#luke; fearing for his life: it's not him im worried about-

[redbean-nom]

din djarin, age 10: clone wars refugee child

boba fett, age 11: in federal prison for destroying an entire venator while trying to kill mace windu

[hayden-christensen-verse-2-0]

A Mothers anguish-A father's punishment

Warnings: DDDNE, main character death, allusions to r@pe, child murder, death, suicide, unborn child killed and other possible triggering things

don't like then please don't read

y/n pov

I've been trapped here on this stupid ship for years and it only feels like yesterday that he took me here after he killed my children……..

“Oh my sweet luke and leia….” I sob out into my hands before looking up and out the window and seeing the part of the galaxy where we've stopped at. I remember it so clearly it was 5 years after order 66, with the help of obi wan i was able to birth my twins, luke and leia and help me settle down on tatooine. Obi wan also told me anakin had fallen into the dark side, something i thought impossible of anakin. We also had to pursue him to confront him and only for him to force choke me to unconsciousness and only woke up when the battle between obi wan and anakin's fight was over. Luke and Leia were adorable and looked like Anakin so much and the years flew by and my children were 5 and so full of life and HE came.

Flashback

I was in the kitchen humming an old lullaby only to hear my children scream out in fear. I rushed outside only to find lukes’ neck in the hands of darth vader struggling and leia with a still slightly smoking wound in her chest. 

“M-mama” Luke choked out, his little hand reaching out and eyes pleading for me, only to go limp and lifeless with a sick crunch and let go to fall next to his motionless sister. I scream out in agony and rush forwards, dropping to my knees scrambling to clutch my lifeless children. The last thing i had of anakin, i weep desperately into my childrens bodys’ as vader watches unmoved before im struck in the back of the head, vision going dark.

Flashback over

It's been 18 years since then and ive had one more child with another on the way. I love my new children but still weep for my long lost ones. Atlas my son with vader, he has my deep (e/c) and my (h/c) and there are other qualities that mirror anakins and that's how i found out that vader was anakin but sick and twisted, a shell of a dutiful and loving man i knew. If I was honest I did not want any more kids but Vader cared very little about my opinion and forced me to have atlas and soon another on the way. I had nearly thrown up when I found out, to know he had killed his own children without mercy. As I stare out the huge window still lost in thought to be snapped back to reality to a knock on my door.

“Come in” my tone authoritatively turned my body to the door, the long dress twisting with my body. Incomes a stormtrooper and he bows before speaking and as the words escape his mouth my eyes widen and my fears have come to fruition yet again

“Empress, i'm here to report to you that prince atlas has been killed in battle” and after he finished he bowed again and walked out of vaders’ and my chambers. I stand there frozen in agony and anguish of losing yet another one of my babies. I clutch my growing bump before falling to my knees and let out scream from the back of my throat, one only a mother grieving her child could let out. I fall forwards onto my hands, tears leaving small puddles on the gray steel floors. My mind races with thoughts and worries for the only remaining child I have, the one in my womb and My mind spiraling into a dark place.

“ I won't let him take my last child, not my little  juniper” I whisper out protectively, eyes wide and full of tears still, searching my room for something and I finally spot it. I get up and stumble over it. I reach my hand forwards and wrap my hands around the cold steel handle of the dagger and lift it up to my eyes before turning around and walking to my bedside table to retrieve one last thing. Opening my drawer to the bedside table I fish out anakins and my old wedding rings, his a silver band with my (e/c) as the jewels around the band and mine with a silver band as well with a good size steely blue gem as the centerpiece. I look at them lovingly and smile sadly, I slowly shift my eyes to the new wedding band Vader gave me. It's black and red, it screams sith, I reach up and rip the vile ring off and throw it at the wall. I return to the window and I kneel onto my knees and raise the dagger up to align to my womb before thrusting it into myself and I bite my lip to muffle my scream, I pull the blade out to then thrust it back in again in a different area of my womb. After a couple more thrust the dagger falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I fall to my side hugging my belly, shedding tears that slide across the bridge of my nose to land on the floor, I bring my clasped hand to look at me and Anakin's wedding rings before placing a final kiss upon his ring and resting my hand against my chest. I slowly feel myself dying from blood loss and whisper out one last thing unknown to me the force carried it to the shell of the man i said it about and go lifeless

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always my dear sun…”

Vader pov

I stand in my throne room facing the wide window that shows the galaxy as i think of atlas when i hear a faint whisper in my mind

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always, my beloved sun…”

My eyes widened behind my mask and realized she sounded weak. A chill runs down my spine and a pit of dread forms in my stomach. Worriedly I turned around and pushed myself as fast as I could down the halls of the ship to my chambers, doors sliding open to reveal my wife laying on the ground in a puddle of her own blood, her once white dress now red and clinging to her form. I rushed towards her dropping to my knees beside her to turn her onto her back, seeing the blood had come from her belly. I moved her into my arms and cradled against my chest and began rocking back and forward. My breathing comes out patchy through the vocoder and tears fogging the lenses of my mask. My mind wanders over the last 18 years and everything happening, I realize I was cruel and vile to her and the death of Atlas must have been the tipping point. I have taken her against her will, killed my own children and isolated her from everything. I let out a muffled scream as it all hits at once, I rest my head against her looking into her dull lifeless eyes and bring a hand up to close them. Here i sit and wallow in my regrets and grief

All I have done was for not, I'm alone again and it's all my fault 

[actualbird]

hiya zak!!! it's 2am and i can't stop thinking about it- but if you had the chance to write how luke gets cured of his illness in canon, how would you do it? (eg. via "surgery, but there's risks"/"oh we found a magical anecdote to your illness, yippee!...etc etc)

hiya "anon" hehe >:3c!!!! first off, thank you for this ask cuz it's super interesting. my answer to this is rather specific and looks bad at first but Trust Me and hear me out on this alright

if i had the chance to write how luke gets cured, i wouldnt make him 100% cured. medically (and this is very vague because im not a doctor), i would make it so that maybe new medication or a new treatment plan is found that makes his illness no longer terminal, but chronic. the new treatment has to be taken regularly as maintenance, along with regular diagnostic tests like EEGs and regular check ups with aaron. the new treatment would also come with a lot of side effects like mood swings, fatigue, nausea, etc.

basically: i dont want him to be cured, but i obviously dont want him to die. however, i want him to have to fight this for the rest of his long life.

it'll be an arduous process, one that never ends, but one he has to get through. and one he dedicates himself to do every day, because it's worth it, because it's worth life,

because he's worth life.

why do i want this? well, first off, it's because i'd love to see more chronic physical illness representation in fiction. it's not always clear cut with illnesses, and sometimes there Isnt a grand cure and it's more like an endless slog of maintenance

second off, i will repeat something i said in a previous ask i answered about luke's illness, but a sudden and 100% cure feels like a too-neat deus ex machina to me, narratively. his illness has been shown to be as Very lethal and Very painful and Very hard to treat, so for all of that to suddenly go away, well....the writing would feel a tad cheap to me if it were that easy.

and third off, because it'd fit well with the themes of luke's stories and luke's character

actually, let me go back to that previous ask i linked because im gonna copy paste a whole lot from it HAHA since my view hasnt changed since i wrote it. in that last ask i say:

in general with stories, i am less drawn to super neat resolutions and im more drawn to resolutions that are more like “and things werent perfect and they never will be, there will always be problems, but our characters will be okay and theyll keep getting better and better, and it’s in this push and pull of struggle and learning and progress and getting through where their happiness lies” ever since luke was a kid, even before he developed his condition, hes had the fear of being a burden to his loved ones. and when he does get his terminal condition, this fear is worsened and he starts to see his existence in other people’s lives as a whole as a burden of pain and grief that isnt worth the trouble. and…i dunno, i just like the idea of him continuing to live but also continuing to have these problems that still spark fear inside of him and still take so much work to manage every day. and out of habit, he braces himself for pain, not just for the kind his condition gives him but from Life because Surely, His Loved Ones Will Get Tired Of All Of This, Of Him and The Problems He Comes With, Right? but surprise surprise, they dont. because they care about him. because this should not and is not a dealbreaker for them continuing to care about him. aaron creates treatment thats more on the preventative maintenance meds angle so luke doesnt have to just wait for a pain episode to pop up and then dry swallow painkillers every time. it’s not infallible , but sometimes luke can have hours, even a whole a day sometimes where the pain hes bracing himself for doesnt come. mc always reminds luke to take his meds whenever luke gets too busy or caught up in a case. he worries at first that it’s an inconvenience to her for her to have to remember his routines for him just in case, but that worry becomes quieter as luke realizes she reminds him in the same tone as she says “good morning” or “have you had lunch yet? wanna join me?”, just this casual and loving thing thats now integrated into both their lives the team are always ready to help too in their own way. when luke gets a pain episode in hq, marius offers distraction in the form of idle chatter on (harmless) internal pax gossip while luke waits for his painkillers to dull down the stinging. when luke feels uncomfortable tingling crawling across his whole body while out with vyn, vyn subtly helps luke move from a crowded area to a quieter one where outside stimuli cant further overwhelm luke’s senses. when it’s a bad grip strength day and all luke wants to do is punch something and fuck his useless hands up even more, artem tells luke about custom silicone grips that exist for things like pens or knives or such and that they could look for some next time they go shopping. it is not perfect. but luke’s life, even with the pain, is still worth living. everybody is trying to help and eventually, luke learns how to start helping him self along with them too.

in summary: i think luke is a fighter. i do wish he had less battles to fight, but one battle that is important for him to fight is the fight to believe that he is worth living and worth joy in spite of it all

so if i had my way, i'd write him having to manage his illness for the rest of his life

and i'd also write him having a full and happy life while doing that anyway

thank you for the ask!! :'D

[tellodona]

Can i req obssesive/bpd mc lover + angels(not luke obv)😍🙏

ooooh ooooooh let's gaur

the angels with an obsessive mc who has borderline personality disorder

heads up: gn!mc, obsessive behaviors from mc additional information: borderline personality disorder impacts the way you think and feel about yourself and others, causing problems functioning in everyday life. it includes self-image issues, difficulty managing emotions and behavior, and a pattern of unstable relationships.

with borderline personality disorder, you have an intense fear of abandonment or instability, and you may have difficulty tolerating being alone. yet inappropriate anger, impulsiveness and frequent mood swings may push others away, even though you want to have loving and lasting relationships.

simeon

he wasn't given a heads up about you, so when you showed some symptoms, he was worried

they especially flared when the both of you got into a relationship

you were always clinging to him, to the point you'd cause a ruckus and might even a temper tantrum if you do

you might spout something that involves him leaving you, and that he probably will because you were so ugly

oh, mc

he would never do that, not in a million years

he'd always assure you with hugs, with kisses, and anything you want him to bake for you

just don't say that mc, alright? it breaks his heart

raphael

is weirded out at first

why would a human cling onto him?

i mean, it's fine i guess, but you pretty much have the brothers around you 24/7

so when he doesn't display any reciprocated energy with you, you started some sort of temper tantrum, whatever thing you do

he could only awkwardly hold you

and then you say something about he's so mean but he has every right about you, because you suck

now, that's crossing a line

mc, he wouldn't ever think that. the clingyness just caught him off guard, is all

every time you rush up to him, he'll always have an arm around you now, for as long as you want

AGAIN, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

[hayden-christensen-verse]

A Mothers anguish-A father's punishment

Warnings: DDDNE, main character death, allusions to r@pe, child murder, death, suicide, unborn child killed and other possible triggering things

don't like then please don't read

y/n pov

I've been trapped here on this stupid ship for years and it only feels like yesterday that he took me here after he killed my children……..

“Oh my sweet luke and leia….” I sob out into my hands before looking up and out the window and seeing the part of the galaxy where we've stopped at. I remember it so clearly it was 5 years after order 66, with the help of obi wan i was able to birth my twins, luke and leia and help me settle down on tatooine. Obi wan also told me anakin had fallen into the dark side, something i thought impossible of anakin. We also had to pursue him to confront him and only for him to force choke me to unconsciousness and only woke up when the battle between obi wan and anakin's fight was over. Luke and Leia were adorable and looked like Anakin so much and the years flew by and my children were 5 and so full of life and HE came.

Flashback

I was in the kitchen humming an old lullaby only to hear my children scream out in fear. I rushed outside only to find lukes’ neck in the hands of darth vader struggling and leia with a still slightly smoking wound in her chest. 

“M-mama” Luke choked out, his little hand reaching out and eyes pleading for me, only to go limp and lifeless with a sick crunch and let go to fall next to his motionless sister. I scream out in agony and rush forwards, dropping to my knees scrambling to clutch my lifeless children. The last thing i had of anakin, i weep desperately into my childrens bodys’ as vader watches unmoved before im struck in the back of the head, vision going dark.

Flashback over

It's been 18 years since then and ive had one more child with another on the way. I love my new children but still weep for my long lost ones. Atlas my son with vader, he has my deep (e/c) and my (h/c) and there are other qualities that mirror anakins and that's how i found out that vader was anakin but sick and twisted, a shell of a dutiful and loving man i knew. If I was honest I did not want any more kids but Vader cared very little about my opinion and forced me to have atlas and soon another on the way. I had nearly thrown up when I found out, to know he had killed his own children without mercy. As I stare out the huge window still lost in thought to be snapped back to reality to a knock on my door.

“Come in” my tone authoritatively turned my body to the door, the long dress twisting with my body. Incomes a stormtrooper and he bows before speaking and as the words escape his mouth my eyes widen and my fears have come to fruition yet again

“Empress, i'm here to report to you that prince atlas has been killed in battle” and after he finished he bowed again and walked out of vaders’ and my chambers. I stand there frozen in agony and anguish of losing yet another one of my babies. I clutch my growing bump before falling to my knees and let out scream from the back of my throat, one only a mother grieving her child could let out. I fall forwards onto my hands, tears leaving small puddles on the gray steel floors. My mind races with thoughts and worries for the only remaining child I have, the one in my womb and My mind spiraling into a dark place.

“ I won't let him take my last child, not my little  juniper” I whisper out protectively, eyes wide and full of tears still, searching my room for something and I finally spot it. I get up and stumble over it. I reach my hand forwards and wrap my hands around the cold steel handle of the dagger and lift it up to my eyes before turning around and walking to my bedside table to retrieve one last thing. Opening my drawer to the bedside table I fish out anakins and my old wedding rings, his a silver band with my (e/c) as the jewels around the band and mine with a silver band as well with a good size steely blue gem as the centerpiece. I look at them lovingly and smile sadly, I slowly shift my eyes to the new wedding band Vader gave me. It's black and red, it screams sith, I reach up and rip the vile ring off and throw it at the wall. I return to the window and I kneel onto my knees and raise the dagger up to align to my womb before thrusting it into myself and I bite my lip to muffle my scream, I pull the blade out to then thrust it back in again in a different area of my womb. After a couple more thrust the dagger falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I fall to my side hugging my belly, shedding tears that slide across the bridge of my nose to land on the floor, I bring my clasped hand to look at me and Anakin's wedding rings before placing a final kiss upon his ring and resting my hand against my chest. I slowly feel myself dying from blood loss and whisper out one last thing unknown to me the force carried it to the shell of the man i said it about and go lifeless

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always my dear sun…”

Vader pov

I stand in my throne room facing the wide window that shows the galaxy as i think of atlas when i hear a faint whisper in my mind

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always, my beloved sun…”

My eyes widened behind my mask and realized she sounded weak. A chill runs down my spine and a pit of dread forms in my stomach. Worriedly I turned around and pushed myself as fast as I could down the halls of the ship to my chambers, doors sliding open to reveal my wife laying on the ground in a puddle of her own blood, her once white dress now red and clinging to her form. I rushed towards her dropping to my knees beside her to turn her onto her back, seeing the blood had come from her belly. I moved her into my arms and cradled against my chest and began rocking back and forward. My breathing comes out patchy through the vocoder and tears fogging the lenses of my mask. My mind wanders over the last 18 years and everything happening, I realize I was cruel and vile to her and the death of Atlas must have been the tipping point. I have taken her against her will, killed my own children and isolated her from everything. I let out a muffled scream as it all hits at once, I rest my head against her looking into her dull lifeless eyes and bring a hand up to close them. Here i sit and wallow in my regrets and grief

All I have done was for not, I'm alone again and it's all my fault 

[im-not-a-simp-i-swear]

A post where all the boys react to female MC being scared of Michael? She meets him for the first time, but instead of greeting him, runs behind the nearest person's back, trembling with fear. I know Luke would be shocked that MC is afriad of his idol?

(Bonus: Michael is also confused and tries to assure her that he means no harm, but fails)

B e n o t a f r a i d

SCARED OF MICHEAL

💙LUCIFER

Oh the grin, oh the evil smile, he is having the time of his life right now

Not that he enjoys seeing you scared, but Micheal's face is pure gold right now! I mean, the so beloved angel being nightmare fuel to his favorite human? HE LOVES THIS!!

"MC come over here dear, i wont let anything scary to you get near you" *evily stares at micheal*

💛MAMMON

Bursted into laughter at Micheal's reaction when the angel saw you cower behind the demon bros

Is loving this moment so much that he doesnt even react all flustered when you grab his arm all unnerved by the angel

"Chill MC im sure the scary looking angel wont hurt you, and if he does then the great Mammon will be here to stop him" he'll say with that mischevious smile of his.

🧡LEVIATHAN

Laughs along with his brothers by micheal's face

He quickly stops laughing when he sees you hide behind him however and actually panics a bit

That doesnt stop him from still finding the moment funny and smiling deviloushly at the angel

"MC?! Why are you hiding behind me??" "Its fine really, i'll still keep you safe, you just caught me offguard for a second there heh..."

💚SATAN

Is a bit confused to be honest. Sure he has some of lucifer's memories and the context as to why his bros are finding this moment so hilarious but since he was never actually there when it all happened he doesnt really know how to react

Feel more than free than to hide behind him though! Im sure that Micheal knows, unlike Satan, the avatar of wrath and doesnt really wanna piss him off

"Its ok MC you'll be safe with me.... good now that we're a bit further than the rest perhaps we can figure out the funny???"

💖ASMODEUS

Giggles perfect style but you can totally see his need to explode in laughter like the older bros

Will loudly announce that you are safe with him and his brothers when you cower behind him, all with the purpose to piss off the angel

"Aww MC dont worry about the mysterious angel! I'll make sure you feel safe, not like micheal.."

❤BEELZEBUB

Smiles at the scenery but doesnt laugh, instead he is more concerned over why you find Micheal spooky, however that doesnt mean he wont hold onto you while you look for comfort

Offers to go grab a snack with you and will walk away while keeping you close

" MC are you ok? Ive never seen you this nervous before, how about we go grab something? Im hungry"

💜BELPHEGOR

Doesnt laugh loudly like the rest but he does smile evily and lets out his fair share of giggles

Is more than glad to have you next to him sp you can recieve his comfort. He'll make sure to stand where Micheal can see you two so the angel can get more annoyed at the fact that a human trusts a demon more than an angel

🤎DIAVOLO

Laughs due to the face that micheal has, not because of the same reason of the rest.

When you hide behind him however he asks if youre alright and assures you its no biggy and that its just Micheal and that no harm should come to you from said angel

"MC? Aww there is no worry to be afraid, its just Micheal! He wont hurt you" "yet" "luci.."

💚BARBATOS

Saw it coming from a mile away but still had to laugh at Micheal's expression

Wont say much but instead comfort you with his hand on yours, assuring you as well that the archangel doesnt bite

"Oh MC there should be no reason to hide behind me dear, Micheal doesnt bite" "yeah i dont bite-" "shush cant you see youre scaring the human at least give them a breather" "HA-"

💙SIMEON

He just stands there. Thats it, his brain has fried up.

One side wants to find this funny thanks to his expression, the other doesnt wanna lose its wings. You hiding behind the only other angels here doesnt really help his thoughts, but that doesnt mean he wont comfort you, he is still and angel

" its fine luke im sure its just a first time thing with MC, after all Micheal is a very strong angel, but MC doesnt need to worry about anything."

🤍LUKE

Shocked, bamboozled, why??? Why his idle??? MC-

Just stares confused while you hide behind him and Simeon, pooŕ kid doesnt even know what to do or say, his brain is processing this very akward situation, none of you three will be in trouble right? Im mean none of them have talked wrongly about Micheal so..??

"MC its just Micheal, he is not scary, why do you hide behind Simeon?? After everything i've said to you about Micheal that's good you dont like him?? I dont understand..."

🖤SOLOMON

Aah yes, he too remembers the first time he met Micheal, he hated every moment of it he was terrified

Will hold you close and assure you that you'll get used to Micheal's intimidating looks, yes he'll say this right next to Micheal and wont make the moment any better but instead will make it worse and funnier for the demon bros

Micheal will literally just stare like that one spongebob meme of the fish guy starring angrily

[owo-shenanigans]

You can make a Yandere picture! Luke Castellan who knows a camper who is the daughter of Gaia?

I suppose so. ALSO MY READERS ARE GENDER AMBIGOUS. Use child for the love of god in hell. Anyway im so fucking good at analysis someone kofi me 5$ for this masterpiece.

Child of Gaia x Yandere Luke

(CWs: yandere... that's kind of it. trauma and parental hatred.)

From the moment you two meet, you can sense seething rage oozing out of every pore in his body.

Kronos’ army, from the beginning, has been made up of demigods who felt abandoned. By fate, by their parents, by the world they chose and yet didn’t choose them. No one joined his side for a jaunt in the park- even the children of the minor gods who joined Kronos hated their parents for using them as pawns.

And then you waltz in, a nervous smile and flowerpot in hand. You explain that your mother sent you to help out your half brother against your nephew.

Once Luke gets over the shock of anyone referring to Kronos or Zeus by those titles, the only thing holding him back from laughing you out the door is the sense he gets from you. Not wholly god, but not like a regular demigod. It’s odd.

The other soldiers… Are not so careful. It’s not like you do much to obviously help, either- your powers are better suited to warground support, crumbling the earth under the enemies feet to make them stumble and fall onto your swords.

Now though, when none of you have faced a real fight and your nerves keep causing minor earthquakes?

There are reasons why you sit alone at meals. Until Luke invites you to join him in his cabin for dinner. You wish you could refuse- he’s so, so angry. It frightens you. Yes, you were crafted by your mother, but she’d made you with the help of a mortal- what better way to help the demigods than by making you one? The human half of you felt fear.

But you went. And you spoke, and you left convinced that in another life you may have been friends. But not here. The air around him is thick and it leaves you with watering eyes.

But he calls you, again and again, and soon you’re taking all his meals with him, and people talk about you as an addition to him. It feels like you’re becoming two halves of a whole.

And you hate it. You don’t even like him! You feel bad, and wish things were different, but you can’t change the fact that the way he looks at you makes your skin crawl and keeps you up at night with an eye on the door.

Hell, you fucking hate Kronos. You’ve heard the stories and you know this won’t end well. You’re leaving. You’re sure that camp Luke was always raging about would take you in, if only for the secrets you’ve heard in the hallways.

Your steps are light and you freeze at every creak you hear, but you finally see the door out. You’d chosen the night before the last the ship would spent docked. Your plan wasn’t foolproof, but you’d get out of town before Luke woke up, you were sure.

Your heart freezes in your chest. Illuminated by the moonlight, down by the base of the plank… Is Luke.

His stride is slow but sure and you can barely hold in the urge to turn and run.

“I don’t know why you were trying to leave. The gods have no place for you, no love for anyone but themselves.” His hand comes down on your shoulder and your knees buckle. His other arm catches your knees and you’re unable to move, your face less than a foot from his own.

“Don’t worry.” He pulls you closer and you can feel his hot breath in the cold night air. “I’ll take care of you.”

[esdaleo]

(both would be amazing cuz they're both 💓💓) but Luke and Nick (separate?) Meeting a survivor whom has PTSD? And they are like.. ooh let me love uuu

hi!! thank you so much for the request. im sorry that it took a little bit to get out - as i mentioned before school is kicking my ass. but i hope you enjoy!

general note before you read: im not a medical professional nor do i have ptsd so i hope that this representation is okay! thats all.

pairings: luke x gn!reader + nick x gn!reader (separate.)

word count: 686

LUKE:

A sickening scream ripped from (Y/N)’s throat and instantly, they sat up in the bed, their hands gripping disorderly at the sheets like they were a lifeline. Sweat formed at their hairline with the dream still having a firm grip on them. With the blood rushing through their ears, Luke bursting open the door and racing to their side was something that was an afterthought. All they did was stare into the wall, hoping that the faces - the god-awful, haunting faces - would just go away.

“Hey, hey!” Luke moved so that he was in front of their view, his hands resting on their shoulders. He stared attentively into their wide eyes, his own brown ones full of sympathy and pity. His voice made (Y/N) descend from their panicked post-nightmare state, finally realising that they’re back in their bedroom, safe on earth. They couldn’t hurt them anymore - they were safe. “What happened? Talk to me,”

“Just - just,” When they tried to talk, their throat felt raw and talking was laborious. Luke now sat down across from them, giving (Y/N) time to notice his hair splayed all over, sticking up in this direction and that. “Just a nightmare, I’m okay.” They weren’t okay, but they wouldn’t say it to his face. Their trauma had been catching up to them as of late, the faces of their attackers burned permanently into the back of their eyes. Luke’s head tilted towards the ground, his eyes pondering.

“How about I stay with you for the rest of the night? I’ll help you fight off the bad dreams or - something,” He laughed at the end of his sentence, hoping to bring some life into the conversation. When (Y/N)’s mouth quirked at the corners, he knew that he succeeded. Their red-rimmed eyes seemed to return to regular whites, showing Luke that maybe they would be okay.

“Please. I couldn’t ask for anyone better to fight off my nightmares.”

NICK:

Watching (Y/N) stand, their weapon held frozen over their head as a walker approached, filled Nick with a horrific feeling. Instantly, he charged over, his shoe coming into heavy contact with the walker’s temple. Still, (Y/N) stood frozen with fear, their eyes showing a million emotions and yet none.

When the walker began growling again, Nick immediately held the barrel of his gun against its forehead. With a deafening BANG! it toppled towards the ground in a dead, bloody heap. Now that it was dead, it gave Nick a moment to focus on (Y/N) and what was wrong. Part of him wanted to yell at them, scolding them for how careless they could be, but that part was overrun by the concern. They hadn’t acted like that before - whilst he knew that they struggled with things, they never froze up in the face of confrontation like that.

“What’s wrong?” Nick stepped in front of them, having to crouch down a little to meet their eye level. When a single tear rolled down their cheek and their arms lowered, Nick felt a stab to the heart. Not in a literal sense, but their broken, scared expression hurt him. They breathed out and looked down at the walker, taking a step back and shaking the blood off their shoe. The two stood in silence for a brief moment, Nick waiting patiently for them to say something, even if it was a swear or two.

“I’m sorry - I’m sorry,” their voice barely registered in his ears, their tone barely reaching a whisper. He reached towards the weapon and took it out of their hands, his other hand moving to rest on their shoulder. Their hands sat at their forehead, fingers quivering.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It - happens to the best of us, okay? Don’t beat yourself up.” Nick hoped that his words were comforting enough for them - he was never the type of person to be sentimental and comforting. Slowly, they nodded their head and dropped their hands, forehead pressing against Nick’s shoulder suddenly. So there the two stood in the forest, completely alone bar each other’s company.

[kanthypantsalltheway]

Can you analyse how Book!bridgerton siblings and show!bridgerton siblings are different?

Thank you so much!:)

Ooooh alright! So I have lots of thoughts about this because we can all agree that book!characters and show!characters are quite different despite the actors putting their best efforts. Afterall they can only do so much when the scripts persist on creating another image altogether. Let's get into it.

Anthony Bridgerton- phewww, the way they butchered him, im- Alright so, first things first, Anthony Bridgerton NEVER neglected his family. He is always portrayed to be obedient despite his life being in tatters and his fear of death hovering over him. I know, I know, it was for character development, but they could have taken a better approach. He was lost, depressed, dripping with sadness and fear, true, but he never talked back to his mother (and violet was never a bitch), never thought about anything else other than his siblings's wishes. He would have NEVER forced Daphne to marry to someone like Nigel. He would have been worried, a bit stern even but never so cruel as to ignoring her wishes. Also, he was never 'attached' to one lady before Kate. Again it might have been for his character arc, but it was a bad attempt at the end because people started romanticizing his and Sienna's toxic relationship. He would never have been jealous of her mingling and seducing other man, because frankly, he is a rake ever since he sneaked out of Oxford for a quick shag. He knew his duties since he was eighteen, and he sure as hell knew who to stay away from. Besides, it doesn't take much time for one to know that even he KNEW how frustrated and hopeless their arrangment was. Book!Anthony was always logical. But thank god for Johnny, he literally made me want to kill show! Anthony and want to comfort him all the same.

Benedict Bridgerton- Book!Benedict wasnt such a bad boy, but hey, I'm not complaining. Luke Thompson didn't have THAT much screentime, but he slayed his fifteen minutes there. I do think his character, although a bit different is quite similar to book! Benedict. A bit shy, in the shadows at time, but sensible when required. A voice of intelligence when Anthony's concern overtakes his sanity. I know the book didn't show much about his feeling towards the working class, but show!Benedict seems to be aware of the society outside of upper-class, which is a relief and a good gradual progress of the show hinting towards at Sophie too.

Colin Bridgerton- Colin has always been humourous and a foodie. How could they butcher my boy and NOT include those qualities???? I mean that's peak Colin right there. Always sneaking food, always talking even when he has one of hands holding food to his mouth, and the other on his belly. He has the most amazing sense of humour and would lighten the situation, NOT MAKE IT WORSE BY MARRYING A WOMAN OUT OF NOWHERE. He was the closest to Daphne. He always was her favourite brother and they had a good chance to focus on that instead of torturing Marina and making Colin look like a fool. Also, he never proposed to any woman other than Penelope. It's crazy how they ruined so many things in one season. Let's hope for the best going forward. Luke Newton could have brilliantly done Colin being the cheeky part, because he just plays it wonderfully. What a missed opportunity.

Daphne Bridgerton- The main reason she wasn't attracting suitors was she was too friendly towards the men of the ton, that they could only portray her as a friend and not as a suitor. She wasn't a Diamond of the first water, she was never even shown having a friendly relation with the men of the ton. She also had a good sense of humour as compared to show!Daphne. She remarked how men were idiots when she saw her brother and Simon fight, she shared how much she loved Colin. Despite Daphne being a bit plain as was her charcter and also being problematic, (which again the writers and showrunners had ample chance of removing the rape scene altogether) she was portrayed beautifully by Phoebe.

Eloise Bridgerton- the show butchered Eloise the same way they did Anthony. Book!Eloise was yes, always bold, sure she was going to be a spinster, but she was never a feminist. I mean, show!Eloise isn't a feminist either, she has a long way to go for it. But the show tried to portray Eloise as this insufferable woman who was always against marriage where other woman were concerned, when she was infact not. Book!Eloise didn't hate Daphne, she didn't mind at all that Daphne was getting married. She and Benedict weren't that close, but again, i am not complaining that they are in the show. She considered herself more so as a spinster than anything else, but she never criticised others for marrying. Although, Book!Eloise was quite ignorant at times. They did portray the difference between the marriage prospects of Eloise and Penelope quite well. How, Eloise WAS a pretty Bridgerton, she had money, prospects and her family support. While Penelope, as shown, her family was suffering from a debt, no prospects for her, and her family couldn't care less about her. Book!Eloise didn't want to unravel Lady Whistledown's identity, she was curious, as was her nature and wanted to have fun. It wasn't her motive. It was Colin's motive. But either way, Claudia saved Eloise's ass, made show!Eloise look like this talkative and curious person, which she is.

Francesca- GIVE MY GIRL FRANCESCA MORE SCREENTIME. But also, isn't it marvellous how Ruby Stokes, with her two minutes of screentime caught Francesca's personality so perfectly? Maybe it is because her screentime was short for the showrunners and script writers to ruin her character in the show, but I'm immensely grateful how much similarities both the book and show Francesca have! Whimsical, introvert, sweet and a keen eye. Perfect. Now bring her back from aunt Winnie's, but don't ruin her character.

Gregory and Hyacinth- ah my babieeeesssss, they are too young to be portrayed as their individual books!character but the small tidbits that we saw in other books of young Gregory and Hyacinth really did match with that of show!Gregory and Hyacinth! Both insufferably cute and cheeky. But what made me sad was how they missed the opportunity to show little Gregory who was so excited that he slipped in the water of Thames and Hyacinth who literally flirted with Simon! Either way, I love Will Tilson and Florence Hunt, they are like real life Gregory and Hyacinth!

Honestly, so much good would have served if they stayed true to the book and it's humour rather than its problematic scenes.

[vomitlyart]

Reading you based on your obey me Kin

i will be ruthless and im not holdin back!! ok now say it with me😈

Lucifer

I kin Lucifer and I have a hard time reaching out to my friends for help even when i know i need it. I don't want people to get worried about me so i mask my issues and help everyone with thier issues, completely disregarding my own needs for a break. in the end i feel alone because regardless of saying im ok, i want someone to truly sit with me and ask me if im ok, but i fear that moment because im not used to dealing with my own issues

Mammon

I kin Mammon and i just want to feel seen and loved. sometimes i do stupid/dumb things to get the seratonin that comes from making people laugh. i feel like no one ever listens to me and it makes me feel insignificant and like the last one to get picked. i truly want to be myself and fear that if im not the odds one out by doing little dumb things people will think im essentially worthless and most likely think im borning. I have a hard time talking about my feelings and want to so desperately, that if i do i won't know what to say or where to start due to the many emotions i've bottled up throughout my life

Levi

I kin Leviathan and i have very bad anxiety. i have a difficult time making friends and part of that reason is bc im scared they already hate me or want nothing to do with me. I know my interests are different from what is considered the norm but i so desperately want to talk and ramble about said interest for hours to someone who will at the very least listen. I get bashed about the things i like by my family and although i dont show it, this hurts me deeply. I lock myself in my room and indulge myself in my favorite things bc each character makes me wish i had certain aspects of them and makes me wish i lived an interesting life but bc of my anxiety it's extremely hard for me to do so. Im also used to being the last one picked and often assume i will always be the last one picked no matter how many times im reassured and deep down i want someone to relish in my own interests with me and truly love and care for me

Satan

I kin Satan and i have a horrible realtionship with my father. I Loathe my father and the tension arises every time we a near one another. A part of me feels terrible that i loathe my father because i know he has his own mind and emotions and i want to forgive him for what he's done but in the end I know it's fruitless to forgive him bc he has put me through alot of pain and hurt. i wish things couldve been different and we couldve had a normal bond. I also hide my emotions very well and am ashamed of ever feeling angry bc it makes me feel like i am horrible person. im also not used to affection and have only ever seeked or felt genuine affection from my pets. I also fear as if i have no personality and that im boring.

Asmodeus

I kin Asmo and i feel like i need to act confident around others in order for them to like me because im too scared to show people my insecurities because i fear they will never view me the same again and leave me in disgust. I want everyone to like me and I also can't handle when someone doesn't want to be my friend or doesn't like me bc i feel if there's something wrong with me. the need to act confident and cute all the time makes me oblivious to the fact that my insecurities shine through at times and make me even more oblivious to the fact people like me for who i am, insecurities and all

Beelzebub

I kin Beel and i have some form of sepreation anxiety towards my favorite person. i often get a sudden fear that something bad will happen to my fav person even though everything is ok. I get made fun of or scolded by my eating habbits and it makes me feel absolutely terrible because i'm trying. i also care very deeply for my family/friends and will do anything for them. i place unnecessarily guilt onto myself and perfer to do so, so that no one else has to bear the burden.

Belphegor

I kin Belphie and i act as if nothing matters but i secretly am very worried and care alot about my friends/family. I also stay up very late because i feel like i have no control over my life during the day and for some reason i feel like staying up late gives me some kind of control. I also hide my emotions with a sarcastic tone and usually think about the the mistakes ive made in my past while i cry in bed. i dont ask others for help emotionally and i want someone to care and listen to me as well as to relish in a calm peaceful life.

/Undatables/

Diavolo

I kin Diavolo and i fear that telling ppl i care about them isn't enough to get the message across so i constantly gift people things in hopes to show them i care. i also fear gifting things too much drives people away from me, i also dont get included much with friends and feel as if i have done something wrong. i also feel very upset when a fun time is over because the feeling of happiness goes with that moment, so i constantly throw little parties and whatnot to relish in the joy but feel upset once it's over. i can also read people well and get put on edge or very cautious when i cannot read someone

Barbatos

I kin barbatos and i constantly take care of others never once letting myself take a break. I hide my emotions behind a smile in order to not worry others and because i dont want dont ppls sense of depency on me to be ruined. i rarely let myself take breaks bc i fear that i wont be there for the person i care about when they need me.

Solomon

I kin solomon and i usually supress my emotions to hide the fact im not very used to being shown affection and that im not as confident as i seem. I also am a very private person but the fact im so secretive makes me disliked by some bc they think i dislike them. i also wish my friends would include me in more events with them and when they dont i bury myself in an activity to hide the fact im upset about it

Simeon

I kin simeon and i want to know and make sure they everyone is ok. i know just how to push and pull people's buttons but i wont abuse this because i care about those people. i'm also very hard to read and perfer to give people advise rather than answers to their problems. The constant taking care of others makes me forget that i also need time to just myself. It takes alot and i mean alot to anger me but once it happens it's not very pretty.

Luke

I kin luke and I want to take care of everyone and often forget to take care of myself. People often dont take me seriously and so i often i find myself baking as a coping mechisim bc it makes me feel in control of little things. I also have a hard time admitting that i care about others and i'll unknowingly show my affection that i do care about them by giving them little gifts and advice. im also very oblivious to certain topics and are i get mad when i get left in the dark about certain topics.

[caramelcal]

her favorite protector

summary: its been weeks since Luke and Bambi last spoke after their argument at the club, and everything seems bleak. things take a turn for the worst for bambi, but it seems only luke can save her from this one. 

word count: 3.25k

requests: Anonymous asked:Hope your doing well and Omg you cannot leave us like that with his favorite club :( my heart is breaking. We need more!! We need cute fluffiness where Luke can change some of those controlling ways. Maybe a kidnapping or something? His worst nightmare coming true that his rivalry is using Bambi to hurt him?

Anonymous asked:For the next part of bambi and Luke, maybe while bambi is at Anna’s, a rival of Luke finds her and she’s really scared and even though they aren’t on the best terms Luke somehow finds her and rescue her

this gif...wow. he’s so pretty <3

ALSO?? LUKE IS ENGAGED TO SIERRA??? I FOUND OUT AND SCREAMED FR AHDFGHBNJHGFD IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM OMG

ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ- ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪᴄs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴏᴡɴ ʟᴜᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇxᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ғɪᴄs, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ғᴏʀ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋʏᴏᴜ <3

Bambi hadn’t had a particularly great few weeks. She needed space, she knew that, and she knew that time away from Luke would do her the world of good. Anna had been nothing but kind to her, hospitable, not asking too many questions about why she was there and why Luke hadn’t shown up. Anna knew of Luke’s more controlling ways, so it baffled her that he hadn’t even acknowledged the girl being away for so long.

From what Anna had observed previously, Luke could barely breathe without the girl by his side; couldn’t rest easy. Neither could his girlfriend...if they could even call each other that anymore.

Anna, in all honestly, just wanted to know what the hell happened. She knew her best friend well, and she hadn’t stopped looking like you had kicked a puppy right in front of her. Hardly even speaking, barely going out, a very small and almost unnoticeable frown on her face.

It was a miracle that Anna had managed to get her out to the club last night. Sure, the smaller girl didn’t have the best time, but it was far better than any plans that she had at the weekend. All she planned on doing was sitting around and moping, the girl was miserable.

Maybe it was selfish, but she really wanted Luke to text her. She wanted some sort of proof that he still cared for her, and compared to his normal overprotective nature, this was so...different. It was almost as if he didn’t care for her anymore, maybe he moved on. Bambi didn’t know. What she did know of, however, was that Luke had a history of sleeping around. What if he didn’t bother coming back for her and just went back to his old ways instead?

It made her feel sick.

Maybe that’s why she barely got through the first round of shots before she was telling Anna she was going to head home, not wanting to be too much of a damper on her best friend’s night.

It seemed that the plan had worked. By the next morning, Anna was nursing an awful migraine due to her hangover and was sporting many new bruises that she didn’t know where they were from. At some point during the night, she had broken a heel off of her shoes, the discarded heel nowhere to be seen.

Anna still demanded they were going out to run errands the day after, dismissing her hangover but demanding that the smaller girl drove her. Surprisingly, she had gotten used to driving after so long of not even having her hands on a steering wheel. It wasn’t her fault that Luke had always preferred that he or Jacob drove her.

Granted, the girl didn’t have a car yet, but Anna was chill about her using hers.

“Anna,” The girl called out from the room, putting her converse on and tying them up, awaiting her friend to reply to her shout.

However, her reply never came, making the girl sigh. Maybe the girl had fallen asleep or just didn’t want to shout back due to her headache. She quickly picked up her purse and walked into the hallway leading into the main front room, “When are we leaving for-”

The smaller girl cut herself off, looking up towards where Anna should have been by herself but instead was pulled against a man’s chest, tears streaming from her eyes, absolutely horrified. A gun was pointed at Anna’s head, making Bambi still in fear.

“One bad move and this bullet goes into her brain, kid,” One of the men’s gruff voices warned, making fear hit the small girl like a wave. She didn’t know what to do, she wasn’t exactly prepared for it.

Bambi stilled, eyes traveling up to meet the older man in front of her, he looked powerful, must have been their leader. He was older than her, but couldn’t have been much older than 30. Small pieces of stubble decorating his jawline and a black shirt covering his muscles, stretching across his wide chest.

“Good move, princess. You’re coming with us,” The next thing the small girl knew was that the gun was no longer pointed towards Anna, instead, it was directly facing her. One pulling of the trigger and a bullet was going to lodge its way between her eyes.

Bambi didn’t have any time to react or notice the person behind her before their cloth-covered hand was covering her mouth. She was pulled against their body, restricted, unable to scream. Her mouth was dry with fear, the strong smell of chemicals hitting her nostrils as she breathed in. Chloroform.

Bambi’s eyes meet Anna’s tear-filled ones, her figure shaking lightly with terror. Anna was pressed down against the counter now, cheek against the marble, hands behind her back, and gun pressing against her temple. She could only watch, helpless, as her best friend was being manhandled out of the house.

Bambi couldn’t do anything either -weaponless- defenseless against these guys but she knew exactly why they were there. They were there to get her, to use her as a bargaining chip against Luke, just about the biggest cliché in the book. The small girl couldn’t help but wonder what they would do to her once they found out that she was useless, and no longer affiliated with the tall Australian. Would they put a bullet in her brain? Send her in a bag to the bottom of a lake?

However, the girl didn’t get much time to question or worry about this as the chloroform from the cloth weakened her as she was about the be thrown in the car, slumping against the man behind her, eyes closed, legs collapsing from beneath her, her consciousness slowly ebbing away into nothingness.

  By the time that the girl had woken up, her vision was blurry, and she was tied to a chair, her arms behind her, legs tied to an individual leg of said chair. She was in a warehouse that looked to be completely abandoned, a hole in the roof allowing cold air to waft about. It was freezing.

“Looks like sleeping beauty had woken up,” A scratchy masculine voice taunted at the small girl, standing tall in front of her, blocking her from seeing anything.

“What do you want from me?” Her voice was also scratchy, maybe from the chloroform, she wasn’t entirely sure. She still felt disorientated, barely keeping herself from staying upright as she looked at the man who stood above her, a sinister grin on his face.

“We don’t want anything from you, kid. We want your boyfriend’s head blown off his body.”

“I don’t,” Bambi cut herself off for a moment, coughing, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

The man above her scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked back down at the girl again, “Don’t act like I’m stupid, princess. All you gotta do is phone him, and Hemmings will come rushing to save his little girlfriend.”

Tears gather in the girl’s eyes as the reality of the situation kicks in. It isn’t a dream, this was her real life. She didn’t want to be trapped like this, in this chair or this life. Luke didn’t care for her anymore, he hadn’t talked to her in weeks, why would he come and save her?

“He won’t come.”

“Don’t play me, princess. I’ve never seen Hemmings ever with a girl twice until you,” He pointed towards the girl, sneering ever so slightly, “You are the key to us getting his gang wiped off of the map. starting with Hemmings, then Clifford, then Hood and Irwin.”

Tears choked up the girl’s throat, her mouth opening as she thought of the fight that she had with him, then the weeks of not talking. The loneliness, the discord. Luke hadn’t bothered to reach out to her, to check that she was ok. Her head shook slightly as the strong emotions continued to arise, “He doesn’t love me anymore, it’s useless.”

The man’s hand gripped the edge of Bambi’s shirt lightly, his jaw clenching as he spoke harshly, spit flying out of his mouth as he threatened the young girl. The gun, which had loosely been held in the man’s hand was now pointed at her once more, “Didn’t ask for your fucking sob story, kid. Open your fucking phone and call him.”

Bambi was frozen in fear, it felt like ice was going through her veins as her phone was thrashed harshly into her shaking hand. At her hesitance to call him, the gun was pressed harshly into the skin of her ribcage as the man ordered again, this time with his words even more clipped, “Now.”

She knew the man wasn’t asking, it wasn’t even an order, it was a threat. This man was dangerous, and she was defenseless against him, if she even wanted a chance of survival she had to comply and hope that he prayed mercy on her and let her go when she realizes she isn’t of use. Shakily, the girl found Luke’s contact, swallowing back her tears, she pressed the call button.

It was silent in the big room in the warehouse other than the few rings the phone made out as the man made her put the phone on speaker. Surprisingly, only a few moments of the phone ringing, it stopped, connecting onto the call with the tall Australian himself.

“Hello?” Luke’s voice sounded out and the girl felt the tears begin to roll down her cheeks at the sound of his voice. It was familiar, it felt like home but at the same time, she felt her stomach clench. His voice was surprisingly soft, the only indication that Luke knew that it was his Bambi calling.

She knew that he had been expecting her to call most likely. She just wished it hadn’t happened like this. She opened her mouth to talk, but the words didn’t form as the tears fell harder, his voice sounding through once more, this time sounding more concerned, “Bambi? What is it?”

“Luke I-” She cut herself off, forcing her sobs to stay silent as she felt the man press the gun against her in annoyance, rolling his eyes before stealing the phone out of the girl’s hand.

“Hemmings, you know when I found out you had a new girlfriend I didn’t think she’d be quite as soft as this,” The man taunted as he stared down at the girl in front of him, “She’s not your usual type, is she? Where’d you find this one?”

“What do you want, Andrews?”

“I want you to meet me at the warehouse, you know the one I’m sure,” The man had rolled his eyes, not that Luke could have seen and a smirk rose to his face, “I’d tell you to come alone without any weapons but I won’t. Bring Hood, Clifford, Irwin, I don’t care. I can just wipe out you all at the same time.”

It was silent for a moment, “What makes you think I will?”

“Because if you don’t I’ll make sure the next time you see your little love she’ll have a bullet in her head. Wouldn’t want me to mess up her pretty little face, would you?” He looked back at the smaller girl again, sending her a malicious smile that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, “You have an hour, Hemmings.”

With that, the man hung up, tossing the girl’s phone to the floor and crushing it swiftly with the heel of his shoe.

The next hour was taunting for the small girl. The man didn’t leave her side, almost as if he was afraid that she would escape. At that time, she tried to distract herself with anything, but the cold warehouse was bare apart from the chair she was stuck to and the clock that stood high on the wall in front of her, taunting her almost.

The time slowly went by, and the girl lost hope. Luke wasn’t coming for her. Soon enough, the clock struck the time that would have been an hour past the phone call. Then another ten minutes passed. Another five.

“He isn’t coming,” The girl had spoken up to the man, which most definitely wasn’t the smartest thing.

The man continued to look straight forward, scoffing, “Shut up girl. He will.”

He seemed so assured of himself, of Luke. For a man that hated Luke so much, he seemed to have a lot of faith in him. The silence, which had yet again filled up the room was broken by the sound of someone talking through the radio, yet it was too broken up to hear.

The man took the radio off of the side of his pants, holding it up to his face, “Jason? Tyson? Can anyone hear me?”

Only more crackling sounds were heard until it faded off into silence. The man’s face twisted into a scowl as he cursed under his breath, getting his gun out and marching towards the door. He wasn’t very smart, clearly, leaving the girl unguarded and alone; she was all of the leverage he had against Luke.

The sound of gunshots made the girl flinch, eyes screwing shut as she began to shake. She didn’t want to be here. She just wanted to be home, in her bed. Not Anna’s guest bedroom, but her own. She couldn’t deal with this anymore.

The fighting got louder and louder until she heard someone battering right against the walls of the room she was in. The door heaved open, but she couldn’t find it in herself to open her eyes, too petrified of who could be there if she did. Hands pressed against her skin as she jumped, trying to fight them away but to no avail as they untied her bound legs.

“Bambi,” The man breathed out, and suddenly the smell of a familiar cologne clung to Bambi’s nostrils, her tears going thicker.

Her eyes opened to find Luke in front of her, crouched down, throwing the rope away that she had been tied to. She threw herself into his arms, hands going around his neck, one hand in his curls. He held onto her like he was scared she was going to evaporate right between his arms, holding her close against his body.

“It’s alright dove, I’ve got you,” He whispered, trying his best to comfort the sobbing girl in his arms. His eyes were closed, thankful to have the girl back in his embrace, and had no plan to let go of her anytime soon, “I got you.”

Calum, Ashton, and Michael had covered his back, successfully eliminating all of the threats as he had raced to get his girl, to have her safe with him once more. They had entered the room to see their best friend crouched down, practically encasing the smaller girl in his arms as she cried, him comforting her. They deserved their privacy, even after everything that had gone on, but they knew they needed to get out of here soon.

The girl’s tears subsided for a moment as she pulled away from the man, eyes darting around and voice panicky, “You need to find Anna, she was-”

“I know, she called me. She’s safe. We’ve been trying to figure out a plan to get you back for three hours now baby,” After his reassurance, he used the hand that was on the back of her head to push her towards him slightly, kissing her forehead as he played with her hair.

Soon enough, he has his leather jacket off, leaving him in only his black button-up, splaying the jacket across her shoulders to keep her warm. The drive back to their condo is silent, but that’s exactly how it should be. Luke doesn’t take his hand away from Bambi for the entire ride, despite how dangerous it could be. He just wants to remind himself that she’s there; back in his arms.

Luke had to admit, the condo felt warmer now that she was back in it. She sat on the counter in the bathroom, hand holding onto Luke’s as if it was her lifeline as he ran them both a bath, helping her strip down and get into the bath before sliding in behind her, pulling her against him.

Bambi basked in the warmth that both the water and the person behind her gave her. They barely talked for the first ten minutes, enjoying the comfort that the silence brings with it.

“I love you,” Luke murmured, pressing a kiss against her shoulder, stubbly beard itching her shoulder.

“I love you too, Lu,” The girl twisted around to face the man, pressing her lips against his, bubble-covered hand getting bubbles on his face. She doesn’t mention the beard, far too tired to make unnecessary conversation. She, however, noticed the guilty and solemn expression on her boyfriend’s face, quietly stating, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“I should’ve protected you,” He whispered, hand reaching up to cradle her cheek, softly tracing patterns on her cheek with his thumb.

“No, you were giving me space, as I wanted. You were being respectful of my boundaries, and I love you for that.”

“It put you in danger, Bambi,” His hand that was around her waist pulled her closer when he said that, “I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll protect you.”

“No, Lu. You can’t protect me forever,” The girl said, kissing him on the cheek before speaking again, eyes never moving from the gaze that she held with the blue-eyed man, “I wanna drive, go out by myself without Jacob. I wanna go to the club-”

“Absolutely not,” Luke scoffed, shaking his head, his protective side of the smaller girl coming out.

“Luke,”

She looked up at him, head tilted slightly to the side with an eyebrow raised. He stared down at her, holding his ground before he looked away, letting out a slightly exasperated and breathy laugh, “Fine. But you only go to the club with me and you never leave my side. And you’re taking boxing classes. MMA, whatever. I’m teaching you how to fight. You need to tell me where you’re going at all times and sometimes let Jacob drive you but you still need to leave when low-level gang members are here-”

“Luke.”

“Fine. But you need to keep your distance from them, ok?”

The girl smiled beamingly, kissing him on the lips. She knew that from a protective boyfriend like Luke, that was the best that she was going to get, “Thanks babe, love you!”

Luke grumbled something lightly that sounded like ‘yeah, love you too’ as he rolled his eyes, the girl starting to clamber out of the bath. Her hands were starting to wrinkle due to the water, showing her that she needed to get out. However, she nearly slipped, thankfully being held back by her boyfriend, who helped her get out safely.

Slipping a towel over her body, she sent her boyfriend a sheepish smile, “How’re you expected to defend yourself at the club if you can’t even get out the bath, Bambi?”

“Oh shut it, Lu,” The girl laughed, making the blond’s face crack out into a small smile, “You coming or what?”

“Yeah yeah, give me a minute,” With that, the girl left, leaving the man to shake his head with a smile on his face. They were both back, with each other, where they belonged.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Christmas at the Hoods

You escape your family by going home with Calum to Australia for the holiday. And the escape is necessary, but at the end of it, you’re reminded that sometimes family is chosen rather than given. 

Reader Insert. Fluff a little bit of angst. You just a perfect amount of tear your heart out but then put it back like nothing ever happened. 

CW: Death of a parent, strained family relationships. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

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You stare down at the text from your mother. Are u coming home for Christmas? The truth is--no, you don’t want to come home. Home is too stiff, reminds you just how much you don’t fit. And maybe it’s just you, you thinking that you won’t ever live up to their expectations of what your life should be like, and maybe it’s not fair to them. But given all that, you still don’t want to subject yourself to that awful feeling, the squirming in your spot wondering how long is appropriate for you to stay before you dip the family pretend bonding.

You don’t want to go home. But you don’t have an excuse not to go. You sigh and place your phone face down on the counter. Ice clinks around in the glass that Calum sets down in front of you. Over the speakers faintly, you hear the twang and kick of guitar as Carla Thomas sings her conversation with an imagined other. At Christmas time, Calum gave you control over the speakers whenever you come over. He liked the Christmas music you had saved and even if he didn’t always get full on decorations the music helped the holiday feel a bit more real for the time you were over at least.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “That had to be the heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard.”

“My mom,” you reply, unlocking your phone and showing him the text. “I can’t exactly say, ‘No, I don’t have any plans. But I don’t feel like pretending to care so I won’t be coming home.’ Wouldn’t go over nicely.”

Calum stares down at the text. The exchange previous to this was a Happy Thanksgiving text that you replied to and prior to that it seems like the conversation was just your mother updating you about the changes she was making to the home office. To which you only replied with ‘Pretty!’ but nothing more. He always suspected you and your family weren’t that close. You talked pretty highly of your dad, but he passed away a couple years ago. And you and your mother just didn’t click. Any sort of sustained interaction always seemed to go south. He just hadn’t had a clue just how sort you kept your conversations with your mother.

He had plans to go home to Australia. His sister was flying in too, the first time he wouldn’t have to split his Christmas vacation time between London and Sydney. Calum knew for sure that Luke was going home to Australia too. He wasn’t sure about Michael, though if previous years proved to be any sort of pattern, Michael would be spending Christmas with his partner’s family. Ashton seemed to be tentatively planning spending New Years in Australia at the very least. Sure you had other friends but given the holiday, he suspected that they might be traveling home or spending time with their families.

“Come with me to Australia,” he offers.

“You leave in a week, tops? The cost of that ticket on it’s own is going to be fucking awful.” You take your phone as it’s handed back over, but you only focus in on him. There was no way he was serious about an offer like that. There was no way he was getting a roundtrip ticket for you under three grand. Tickets for that kind of travel months in advance were easily a grand or more. So there was no way Calum could guarantee a ticket for you round trip in a week for a reasonable price.

“I always told you I was going to take you home with me one of these days,” he counters. “Show you those Sydney streets I grew up on.”

You laugh at the way he bobs with his fists in front of his face like a boxer in the middle of the ring. “Yeah, when we could both plan it out and I could at least pay for my own airfare. I can’t Cal. I appreciate it and you. But that’s too soon and I can’t have you dropping money like that on me such short notice.” You take the glass from the counter and spin around in the barstool before traveling to the couch.

Calum drops his arms and follows behind. He’s not worried about money. That’s nothing. “I can’t leave you alone for the holidays. I know going home would just be rough right now. I’d-I’d come with you if you wanted.”

“Oh my god, Calum, no. Go home. You haven’t seen your mom and dad in ages. I’ll be okay.”

“If I cancel I can still get a voucher for another time,” he offers and settles onto the ottoman in front of you.

“Go home. See your parents. Give them a hug. Fucking hell, I’m not worth canceling a trip over. I’ll suffer through this Christmas like I have every other Christmas.”

With a tap to your knee, Calum shakes his head. “My friend absolutely cannot spend Christmas miserable. I won’t have it.”

You shake your head. It’s not like you haven’t had to spend every other CHristmas miserable--what’s one more to the list? Calum looks to the coffee table and spies his phone. He stretches out for it. This would be embarrassing to admit. He wasn’t going to do it like this. In all actuality, he had meant to ask you last week. But you had to out of town for a conference. He hadn’t realized the conference was this late in the year but it was one that you had been trying to get into for years, so when you landed the opportunity, Calum knew you’d take it in a heartbeat.

You take hold of the phone as it’s handed to you. “What’s this?” You ask but Calum remains silent and you glance down to the phone to see it opened to an app. “Why am I staring at trip information?”

“It’s because I bought two round trip tickets,” he returns.

“What do you mean you bought two tickets?”

“One of those is for you. If you want to go.”

You drop his phone into your lap and push to the edge of the seat. “When the hell did you buy these tickets?”

“A couple months ago. I knew the holidays were always a little rough for you.” He shrugs. “At least you won’t have to lie to your mum now.”

“Calum you are the most insane person I’ve ever met and I’ve lived with myself for a while now. When the fuck were you going to tell me?”

“I had plans to last week. But I remembered you were going out of town for that conference and I wanted you to focus on that since you had to present and be on a panel too.”

“How fucking early do I need to wake up?” you asks.

“I-I figured you come over the day before, sleep over and then I’d drive us to the airport.”

“It’s summer in Australia right now, correct?” He nods at your question. “Beaches?”

“If you wanna go, sure.”

“Do I get to say that I’m being kidnapped for Christmas?”

“If you really want to phrase it like that.”

“I’m in,” you agree and Calum smiles, wrapping his arms around you as you fall into him in a hug. “Thanks, Cal.”

“Of course,” he returns softly. He’d do anything for you, or just about anything if he’s honest. You matter to him and even if he does have to kidnap you for the holidays, he’s happy to do it if it means you won’t be miserable.

A couple hours go by and you head home, now having to start packing for the holiday trip with Calum. As you sit on the floor in front of your suitcase, you pick up your phone. You aim to go the weather app and see what it’s like in Sydney right now. But the text notification from your mom still lingers on the messages app. You tap on it and reply. No, Mom, sorry. Going to visit Australia for Christmas.

Who’s in Australia?

Calum’s family is there.

Who’s Calum? Is that the boy you talk about in the band?

“Fuck,” you mutter, realizing there were two ways this could go. You hadn’t ever really talked about your friends with your mother. Your dad knew and he filled her in a little bit, but even still you didn’t tell him a lot before he died. Mostly because you were afraid. What would happen if you told him everything and you needed help and he died? He’d be the only one to know and then he’d be gone. You’d have no one. So you told him half of everything. You told him about the band and some of your friends and you told him that you were doing okay. But you didn’t tell him that you were finally starting to figure what what you were meant to be doing on this earth. You didn’t tell him that you were dating around. Your dad only knew half the truth and now you realized all he could tell was half your truth to your mother. He could only convey what he knew and your mother didn’t always listen too well. She always got into her head what she wanted to hear and that’s the version she went with.

You can almost imagine your mother now, sitting on her couch tapping at the screen of her phone with one finger and looking up to the kitchen where your dad would usually be--and here, she would call out to your dad to ask Do you know about this Calum fella? They ever talk to you about ‘im? And your dad would reply in some sorts clipped and in half truths, Yeah, they’re friends or something. He’s got a good head on his shoulders from what I could tell. Because that what your dad would always say about any of your friends, that they always had a good head on their shoulders because he trusted you.

Your dad told you once that he said they always had a good head on their shoulders because you had a good head on yours and you’d never be friends with anyone that didn’t match morals like yours. He knew you’d never get mixed up in something that you couldn’t see yourself out of because he had raised you, because he had to trust you now; his fears couldn’t stand in the way of you living your life.

If you could tell your dad the whole truth, you would. You would tell him the first year after his diagnosis you lost yourself. You’d tell him that Calum had found you more than once on the edge of something dark and secured you to his chest for nights on end. He’d take you the studio with you just so you wouldn’t be alone. You’d tell your dad about the times you cooked all his favorites just so your house smelt of him. You’d tell him that even though you and your mother fought and you felt like you were always at arm’s length with some family, you always loved him. You’d tell him everything in full detail so that when he died, he would die knowing fully.

Yeah, you start typing to reply to your mother’s question, he’s the guy in the band.

Enjoy. But you should see family during this season too. Remember the ones that have been with you through thick and thin.

You don’t respond to the text. More than half of your mom’s side didn’t show up to the funeral. They never liked your dad all too much and you were slowly uncovering why. But no matter the reasons, it hurt. It hurt to walk with your mother down the aisle of that church to the funeral procession and seeing a halfway empty church because her side hadn’t supported the marriage. Your father was dead and the least they could do was show up to a fucking funeral. There’s no thick or thin in that, just them.

Another text buzzes through your phone. It’s from your aunt, on your dad’s side. We’re loving the pj’s! Nana’s rocking the new slippers and everything. Take care and rest. Wanna come by for New Years? We may be old but we can still keep up!

You laugh at the photo of your grandmother, sleeping as she sits on the couch, bundling up in the robe you also ordered for her. The new slippers are almost falling off her feet. That’s keeping up if I’ve ever seen it, you return. I might come by a little after New Years but I’ll bring the wine--you just bring the chips and dip. Going out of town for a little bit.

No worries! We’ll see you then. Chips and dip are stocked. Don’t you worry. Enjoy!

There’s a twinge--you almost want to stay just for them. But nothing feels the same anymore if you’re honest. When you hang out with your dad’s side of the family, there’s a hole. His seat is way too empty, even if you sit in. There’s no one to joke around. Your grandmother has no one to pass on her list of chores too besides finding people in town to help her with. And it’s not the same. They don’t laugh when she hands it over. They don’t joke that they only had a son just so he could do all the house repairs, or lawnmower repairs.

It has to be hard for them too. It’s all around just not a great time. But then in your peripherals you see your halfway packed suitcase, the swimsuits you’ve rolled up and tucked into one of the mesh pouches. Was this running? Or was this healing? Was going all the way to Australia just an escape? Maybe it was all three, but it was running into an escape but on the other side, there was some healing in it too. You continue packing, pulling out some loungewear and figuring how many pairs of jeans to include on this trip too.

You feel silly in your sneakers and leggings as more people filter into the terminal area from TSA in bulky coats. But Calum’s dressed roughly the same next to you, only in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Your phone shakes in your hands. Let me know when you land, your mother requests in the text.

Will do.

“Do your parents know I’m coming?” you asks, suddenly remembering that you will be in their place for three weeks.

“They know,” Calum returns, slouching down in the chair. “Trust me. Mum keeps asking me if you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions. And everytime I answer, she asks if I have checked in with you recently about it. And I have a feeling if you suddenly sprouted some new allergy, I would know by now.”

“That’s how moms are,” you laugh.

“Don’t be surprised if you find your favorite snacks just chilling in the kitchen.”

The thought of Joy going out of her way to find out via Calum about your favorite snacks and to only have them just in her cabinets or pantry makes you laugh but deeper than that you feel touched, chest warming just a little at the thought that she’d do something above and beyond. You slouch down to match Calum and rest your head onto his shoulder. “Is your childhood bedroom still embarrassing?”

A soft exhale of laughter pushes through Calum’s chest. “No, not too embarrassing anymore. Some of the posters are still up and mum’s changed the bedding for sure. A few of my things are tucked into the closet. But Mum’s said she’s been going through things in the house slowly so maybe she’s put more things on display just to set me up.”

You nod. “I imagine there are going to be lots of sports posters.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” Calum chimes, resting his cheek on your head. “I was supposed to be the sports kid. I mean, I was the sports kid for a really long time.”

“Then you found out you had those pipes,” you laugh, tapping on his chest.

“Yeah, then I realized music was a thing. Mali used to blast R&B and I mean blast it. But she’s always had great taste in music so it was never like the songs were bad. They were just loud. Sometimes I’d stay with Michael for as long as I could. Not that I didn’t want to be home, I just wanted to save my ears for a little bit before Mali and Dad would take over.”

“Your dad sings?”

“He’ll tell you only a little bit. But yeah, he sings.”

“So it’s a family trait!” you laugh. “A long line of singers.”

“Mum would disagree with you.”

You glance down and look at the initials inked into his skin. You brush your thumb over Joy’s. You had only heard about her. Once you saw her. Calum was calling home when you dropped by unplanned. It was quick, you waved at her from his computer but mostly you hang around in the kitchen, petting Duke as he wrapped up the call. From the way he talks about her, you know he’s close to his family. You know being away from home is hard sometimes for him. You’ve talked to Mali more, caught Calum a few times FaceTiming her too, or meeting her when she visited LA for his birthday. You know about his Dad too. Haven’t met him yet, but you’ve seen him when you watched the ARIA’s one year and he dad popped up in the crowd while the band performed. You screencapped the moment and send it as a reaction photo to Calum whenever he shares good news. You’re sure he must be sick of it, but he never says anything about your habit.

“There’s a little shop not too far from the house. I used spend hours to looking at all the trinkets. I think you’d like it,” he admits quietly.

“Yeah, I’d be down for that.”

“But first, there will be food,” he laughs just as the speakers overhead crackle to life and the voice faintly reminds everyone of the boarding procedure. You can Calum both stand, slinging backpacks onto your shoulders as you want for them to call group one to board. “Lots of food.”

“I’m ready,” you return.

Sleep on the plane isn’t all that restful, but you take it in stride though you manage to make progress in your book. Halfway through the flight, Calum holds out one of his earbuds to you. “You’ll like it,” he urges and you take the bud placing it into your ear.

Somewhere between the songs that Calum plays and the movie you’re not fully paying attention to, sleep claims you once again. And you let it hold you well past the light layer of sleep you had the first time. Sleep lays claim to you, holding you deeply into its grasps. You only find yourself waking up when the lights on the plane lift just a little and it breaks through your lashes and Calum shakes you awake. The two of you climb from your seats, backpacks on shoulders and wind through the airport to baggage. Thanks to the cat and dog luggage tags you bought, spotting your and Calum’s luggage is easy. Calum easy snatched the cartoon dog but you didn’t put up a fight. You let him have it, especially since it looked slightly reminiscent of Duke.

As you gather your luggage, you hear a voice from behind you. Calum turns to the sound of it immediately, his hand leaving the handle of his suitcase. You grab it for him and watch him, hearing his laughter escape him, as he runs up to his mother. “Mum,” he laughs, “hey!”

The hug looks bone crushing, only the hug a mom can give that even if it shouldn’t be tight is tight because there’s nothing like the squeeze. “Oh, my boy,” she grins. It lights up her whole face and you stand, just behind them, a couple feet off, both suitcases in front of you.

Joy spots you and the grin grows brighter. She releases Calum and shuffles up to you, arms still opened wide. “Hi! Look at you,” she greets. You immediately step out from the luggage. She’s warm and taller than you imagined as you hug her. She gives you a squeeze and your eyes water just a little. There’s something to the embrace that makes your chest tight and you find yourself clinging a little tighter to her too as she runs on about how late it is, and how hungry and tired you both must be. She keeps you close, an arm around your shoulders, hand splayed across your back. Joy pinches Calum’s cheek and wraps her other arm around his waist.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she urges. “David’s with the car. But I just couldn’t wait to see you both. Oh, it’s so good.”

Even as you exiting the plane it shocked you just how bright in the day it was still. But when you look down at your phone you realize you’re almost a whole day ahead, now standing in the middle of the afternoon, as if you somehow only flew a few hours instead of half the day. Calum’s dad is not parked too far from the entrance. As the three of you approach, he runs up some of the way with a large smile. “Aye!” he laughs, hands clapping Calum on the back. “Look at you!” “I swear I haven’t gotten any taller, Dad.”

“Coulda fooled me,” David returns. “Now,” he laughs, pointing to you. “I heard you got dragged along. Did ya put up a fight?”

“Less of a drag, more a kidnapping,” you return but step into the embrace with a laugh.

“Next time, next time, you’ll go a couple rounds with him, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, next time.” You don’t know if it’s going to be a next time but the idea sounds nice. Calum and David load up the suitcase into the trunk before all four of you slip into the car--you and Calum in the back.

“Hope they haven’t scared you off,” Calum whispers to you. You shake your head, mouth opening to say more but then David pipes up from the front seat. You almost don’t catch what he says, but Joy and Calum respond, so you stay quiet with a bit of a nod and watch the lights fade behind you as you travel down the streets. You make sure to text your mother that you arrived safely.

Calum’s room isn’t so bad, like he figured. Though you do almost wish there were a few more embarrassing posters on the wall. No sooner than the two of you can slip bags off and get out of shoes, a knock sounds from the door. It’s Joy, peeking her head inside. “Calum knows this, but you’re free to whatever’s in the house to munch on. I think there’s a few beer already cold too. But,” she waves her hand a little as if dismissing the thought. “either way, whatever’s there, you’re welcome to take.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hood.”

“Joy, call me Joy.”

“Thank you, Joy.” She nods and then slips back out of the room.

“They’ll be like that for another couple of days, but don’t mind them.” Calum shows you were the linen’s closet is and where the bathroom is too. “If you wanna shower first, I’ll whip up some snacks.”

“Oh, that’s some hard work putting together some snacks.”

He glares at you, throwing a towel at your head. You manage to duck it though it does land on your shoulder. You laugh as he flips you off and then heads to the kitchen. You head back to the room and grab a different set of clothes. It takes a moment to get the water right but you keep the shower as short as you can and slip into the clean clothes.

You return to the kitchen and find Calum with a plate of various chips, fruit snacks, and a small section of meat and cheeses out. He cracks open a beer just as you pad into the kitchen. “Want one?” he asks, but you decline the offer.

“It’s cozy,” you say softly looking around the living room and kitchen of the house. Even Calum’s room teleports you. You’re not sure where just yet, and even though it’s obviously a whole different continent there’s something about the house, about seeing Calum’s family so visibly happy to have him back home and the genuine smiles that feels like a warm blanket straight from the dryer. It envelopes you.

Calum shrugs a little. To him, it’s just familiar and a tad foreign. Like he can’t remember if the paintings are the same ones from his last visit but the pictures of him and Mali have never changed. The family vacation photos still line the walls too--unwavering it seems even against all of his mum’s decorating attempts. “Once Mali comes into town, it’ll feel complete,” he states. You wonder how any of this could feel incomplete, but don’t voice that curiosity.

Calum runs up to shower next and in the middle of your munching, Joy returns to the kitchen too. “I’m surprised you’re still standing upright.”

“Oh I could fall over at any point. Keep an eye out.”

Leaning into the counter she nods. “Time zones are killer. I’d say try to make it through as much of today as you can and then zoink out later on. Might be easier to adjust to the time that way.”

“I’m hoping,” you say.

“Calum told me you went to a conference last week. How’d that go?”

“It went well. Slight tech issues with my presentation but we managed to pull through unscatched after that.” You talk a little bit more about it, but are aware that you feel like you're rambling. When you ask her a few questions, she’s more than willing to answer them but she keeps them short and instead asks you more questions too.

“As the best friend, I feel like I need embarrassing material. Do you have photos of baby Calum?” you ask after a bit.

“Of course I do. He asked for some for a video once and I scanned over the most neutral ones. But if you want embarrassing photos, I got ‘em,” she laughs, wiping the salt off her fingers from a chip and waving for you to follow her.

Calum returns the sound of laughter and you cooing about something, he thinks you might’ve mentioned chubby cheeks and he knows without a doubt it’s him. “If you are going to embarass me I’d like to be in the room,” he states, seeing the photo album open on your lap. He steps to the arm of the couch you’re near and watches you flip through a few pages. You pause at a couple and pull your phone out to snap a few pictures of the picture. He doesn’t miss the several messages still lingering on your notification screen from your mother.

It’s over dinner that Joy suggest putting the tree up over the weekend, since Mali will be in town at that point too. No one objects to this plan and the latter half the week you and Calum spend mostly trying to adjust to the time change, though Calum seems to be having an easier go of it than you. Mali is licked up from the airport and you linger behind knowing that there’s not quite enough space for all three of you in the seat. It’s a little strange to be lingering around in Calum’s old room at his mum’s house but it’s not to bad. You take in all the sports posters, notice some medals and trophies still hanging around to otherwise bare shelves. Among them are some photos too--mostly of Calum and the guys. A few of some people you’ve never seen before and you assume they’re friends from soccer, or other sports along the way.

The sound of laughter echoes around you. Though you do hold onto one photo of Calum. He’s in a jersey, arms thrown over the shoulders of two other boys. They smile wide and big at the camera. The grassy fields hold blurry people and you like to imagine in that blur there are parents hugging kids, or kids running to their parents. There are coaches, people shouting in those blurs. The sounds of feet on stair should break you out of your trance staring down at the photo and you hear more laughter too. But you continue to stare down at younger Calum.

Calum tries to catch onto Mali’s wrist. “Do not! God,” he huffs when she slips through his hold. She laughs, backpack still on and barrels past her old room to Calum’s. You’re standing halfway turned to the door, but still clearly engrossed in something.

“Hey,” Mali huffs out, slipping just inside the cracked door. “Have you found the good blackmailing photos yet?”

You jump just a little but lift your gaze and find Calum’s sister beaming brightly at you. “Hi,” you return with a laugh. “I found a few. Your mum broke out the photo album.”

“Good,” she returns. “Sorry for kicking you out of the arrival party. It’s not normally five of us.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I couldn’t necessarily swing a vote on voting Calum out, so, I just took that blow.”

She gives a light tuft of laughter and hisses just a little. “Yeah that’d be a little hard to swing. But I’ll teach ya a few pointers for next time.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you return and Mali excuses herself to drop off her bag. Everyone seems hooked on the concept of a next time. It falls easily from their lips and while you’ve enjoyed the time here thus far, next time isn’t on your mind. Honestly, you’re not sure what’s on your mind besides not thinking about the text messages you need to respond too. Most of them seem to be about making sure you’ve adjusted to the time difference, if you’ve seen anything exciting. And you want to tell her--but you know you’d most likely tell her half truths too. Possibly even quarter ones. So you’ve opted to tell her nothing really. It seems trivial to explain to her that you’ve gone out a couple times--to the beach and the shop that Calum mentioned earlier. Most of the time though, you spend with Calum going down his memory lane. You rode past the school’s he attended, saw all the spots he used to hang out. Those don’t feel like the spots your mother is looking for.

When the Christmas tree is unearthed and Joy brings out the decorations you don’t think about those text messages again. You instead help feed the garland around the tree to Calum who’s standing at the back of the tree and he passes it along to his mon and she passes it to Mali and Mali passes it back to you. And that’s the way it goes for the lights too. Once those are put up, you look over the bulbs that Joy has. Behind you Calum and Mali are already working to put the hooks through the box Joy approved. You’re trying to help her find the last box in that set.

“Short end, Calum. Short end is what you hook through the top of the bulb.”

“Which end is short then?” you hear him return.

“That end,” she laughs. “I’ll put the hooks. You put them on the tree. Don’t put the same colors close together. Space them out.”

“I can decorate a tree,” Calum states.

“Sometimes I wonder.”

You find the last box of bulbs in the matching set, under a layer of icicle like ornaments. “Found ‘em,” you tell Joy and she beams, stopping her work on the box she was digging in.

“Ah! I’m not sure how they got separated.”

“Someone packed them wrong,” Mali returns, focused in on hooks still. “Most likely,” she counters. You step over to her and help prep more ornaments. A few look homemade with popsicle stick and felt. You pause looking at them on the table.

“Made ‘em in primary,” Calum answers, picking up the ornaments you’ve already hooked. “I thought Mum would give up on bringing them out.”

“But I never have and never will,” she counters picking them up and proudly displaying them on the front of the tree.

Calum makes a show to wave his hands. “That.”

“You made them and I cannot not display them,” Joy laughs and takes the bulb you’ve prepped.

“I think it should be the star,” you tease.

“Do not give Mum any ideas,” Calum groans. “She needs zero ideas.”

“My dad would put mine near the star. I used to hate it too,” you offer.

“Because he was proud of them! See, it’s a parent thing,” Joy laughs, taking another ornament.

You don’t respond, giving a shrug. Maybe it’s a parent thing. And maybe it’s just a love thing, you think. Maybe putting your atrocious ornaments near the top was a way your dad was saying you were always near the top, he was always thinking of you first. When you blink the silver hooks blur for a moment and it hits you that you might be crying. So you blink again and the tears don’t completely clear.

Arms are around your shoulder and you think it’s Calum but as you turn into the embrace, you notice it’s Joy. “Hey, it’s okay,” she offers. She’s quick to scoot you over to the other end of the living room and hands you a tissue. “Do you want to keep on decorating? You can take a breather.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Her hand runs a soothing line up and down your back. You can only nod. It takes another moment and a deep inhale before you find a resolve. Joy takes your spot hooking the ornaments and you hang one up on the branch. You’re not even sure if Calum and Mali noticed your quick time out, but they don’t seem to be visibly concerned. You finish the tree half an hour later--many ornaments had to rearranged after realizing the back hadn’t gotten nearly enough love. You snap a photo and you don’t think too much about sending it to your aunt and your grandmother, but you hover over your mom’s contact.

Would she think you’re betraying? Would she find some way to say that you could’ve been home decorating the tree too and that she could’ve used the help since Dad wasn’t around anymore? You don’t hit send. Instead you lock your phone, place it face down and ask Joy if she needs or wants any help cooking dinner. She waves you in happily, explaining the dish she’s preparing to you as you wash your hands. This is easy. This feels complete, listening to the sounds of the TV in the background. Knocks at the door don’t make your heart startle and you almost know, without looking, that it’s David. And he no doubts has an armful of things--food, drinks, and god knows what else.

“Do-do you mind me asking about your mom?” Joy brings up as you tend over your hot pan.

“I,” and all words have fallen from your brain. “I don’t know,” you answer. It sounds so stupid but it’s the truth. The whole truth. “I don’t know how I feel. I-I wouldn’t be upset, but there may or may not be a reason I’m hiding on the other side of the world.”

It’s a small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless that Joy gives. “You know, fair. It’s okay if you don’t know. Instead, we’ll knead dough,” she offers, “or whatever else we need to do.”

“I’ll take kneading dough.”

There’s a nod and a smile, an understanding that kneading dough is the best alternative. The sleeves to your hoodie start to slip down again and just before you can clear your hands from the flour to pull it up, two hands come from the side. Calum, you deduce. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Did Mum put you to work or did you volunteer?”

“Volunteered,” you answer and go back to kneading the dough. The fridge door opens and then closes a few seconds later.

“You’re a guest. You don’t have to you know?”

“I know. Just need to do something.”

“Besides not answering your mom’s texts.”

“Besides not answering my mom’s texts,” you agree. Calum reaches across the counter and grabs your phone. You gave him the passcode ages ago and shockingly he remembered it. “Gonna delete the embarrassing photos?” you tease. You already emailed yourself copies just in case you tried too.

“Nah, no need. You’d just find a way to get them again.” You watch him for just a moment open up the app and the picture of the tree is still loaded in. “Why didn’t you send this?”

“Because I didn’t want her bitchin’ to me about how I could’ve been doing that with my real family. I would rather decorate a tree with you and your family anyway. Just as real as anything else,” you huff out, pushing in a little harder into the dough.

Calum pauses for a moment, glancing over to you. He’s not even sure his ears actually heard what you are saying. “What?” he asks in an exhale.

“I’d rather spend legit any holiday with you.”

He stops you, a hand on your wrist. “Did-did you just admit that you’d spend any holiday with me and my family?”

“Do you want bread or not?” you ask and he releases your wrist. “But yes, I did admit it.” You look up from the dough, knowing you’ve worked well enough for you to be done. The Christmas tree twinkles from the corner and it’s nice to see a family together--there’s no arguments, no need to feel like you’re at arm’s length. The TV plays and it’s idealistic. It’s what you want, not the screaming that occurs on most holidays, no one too drunk off their ass, no one being kicked out.

“I like it here,” you admit softly. Christmas is about five days out and you still need to wrap Calum’s present. It’s currently hiding in your suitcase and you want to get something nice for his parents for hosting you, and you’re not entirely sure what to get Mali but you want to do something nice for her too. Calum doesn’t miss the way you stare, the longing in your gaze as you’re still knuckle deep in dough. “I could send the photos to Dad. He’d probably just send a thumbs up. But, still it would’ve been better.”

“Then send it to him.”

“Mom disconnected the line. I have no clue who has the number now.”

“Send it anyway. Whoever it is, probably wouldn’t mind.”

You shake your head and look down at the dough. It’s done and you place it back into the bowl. The idea is asinine to you. No stranger would be okay with getting a random text about a Christmas tree you decorated and whatever sob story you’d type out. Best not to bother a stranger. Even as Calum tries to urge you one last time, you don’t give in. You move about the kitchen as if you’ve always worked in and wash your hands. It doesn’t take you long before you settle onto the couch next to Mali.

I know this might be strange, Calum starts drafting. But my best friend lost their dad about two years ago and this is his old number (this is their number and they still has the number saved). I took them to see my family for Christmas since they and their mom and that side are in a rough spot. I say that like it hasn’t been years of a rough spot but they helped us decorate the tree. I don’t know who’s going to see this, if it’ll go through or not, but I’m hoping for a miracle, I guess, for kindness in the universe and kindness in a stranger. They just needs something good, so we hope you enjoy our Christmas tree. They told my mum about how their dad would put the homemade ornaments near the star. Needless to say my mum agreed with the idea.  If you see this, and get the picture, I hope you have safe and happy holidays.

Calum doesn’t even think twice about hitting send on the message. He finishes pouring himself a glass of water and pour another one for you too. By the time he grabs a snack too your phone buzzes again. There’s a response from the number that once belonged to your dad.

Tree looks awesome, kid, reads the first message. And then another one follows it. Homemade decorations near the top are the only way to go. Hope your friend gets through the holidays safely, but with people like you in their life, we think they will. Happy Holidays and enjoy our tree too. A picture comes attached with it.

Calum leaves the response up. It works out perfectly that the first response sits directly under the picture Calum sent. The first part of the second text is still visible but he doesn’t worry about that. He taps on your shoulder. “The world’s not so bad after all,” he states.

It takes you a moment to realize who the message is under. And you know it’s not actually your dad. You know that line went cold months ago.Your dad didn’t call you kid too much else he was trying to annoy you.  But it’s something about seeing a message from that number that makes your chest ache. For a split moment in time, he’s real again. A sob racks through your chest and you're quick to cover your mouth, aware that other people are around. “I should’ve told him so much more,” you gasp and another sob breaks the sentence up just a little at the end. But all you can do is stare at the response with blurry vision.

Calum wraps you into his arms, pulling you into his chest. “Hey, you can still tell him. Maybe not by texting this number but you can still tell him,” he whispers. And though you tremble against him, he manages to get you to the shelter of the stairs. You settle oddly on top of him, your legs draping over his and your cowered into his chest mostly. But you don’t object to the arrangement.

Joy places a box of tissues down next to you both and settles on the step just below Calum. Her hand is warm on your knee. “I thought you were kneading dough.”

You chuckle just a little but tremors still rock you. “Dough didn’t have a lot of resistance.”

She nods, tsking just a little. “Ah, next time I’ll have you knead two loaves.” Once she’s sure you’ve cried it all out, she leaves you be, though most of her comfort was soft reassurance and knee pats. But it’s just what you need.

Calum guides you upstairs and unearths his journal from his bag. Or at least a journal you think you’ve seen him writing in before. “I was going to give this to you on Christmas. But it sounds like you could use it now. Whatever you wanted to tell your dad, write it down. Pretend like your writing letters to him. I know know it might sound silly, but it helps me.”

The journal is leather, embossed on the front are your initials. It almost looks too expensive to even write in it, but when Calum hands you a pen you think you might explode again if you don’t get it off your chest. So you settle onto the edge of his bed, which is barely just enough space for two of you to sleep on during the night and tell your dad all the full truths. Everything you felt like he couldn’t take the grave, you spill onto the page.

Dad, It’s Christmas. Or it’s nearly Christmas. I’m in Australia with Calum and I’ve already had one emotional breakdown. So we need to reset the count on that one. It’s hard without you. Joy put Calum and Mali’s old homemade decorations near the star of the tree and all I wanted was to be six again and be up on your shoulders and have you force me to put my decorations up high on the tree for everyone to see. I used to hate it. When you did that. But now I miss it.

I miss a lot of things, I guess now. I miss being honest with you. I wasn’t very honest while you were dying. I was afraid that I told everything I’d be weak. That if I told you everything you’d take all the words with you when you died and I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone else since it would’ve been one of the last things I told you. It all sounds silly now to write it down, but that’s what I thought.

Here’s the other half I never told you.

Calum lingers, sitting on the floor and finding one of his old guitars sitting on the floor tucked into a corner. He slides over, and places it into his lap before strumming mindlessly over it. The scratch of the pen is hardly audible as he strums but he can envision what it sounds like, see how fast you’re scribbling words down onto the page.

Later in the week, as you have Mali and Calum helping you find a gift to give their parents, you stop at one of the small shops in the mall. Mali’s wandered off to the far corner but Calum’s close next to you, glancing around the walls for something that looks remotely interesting and appropriate. The housewares all look too dated and Calum’s not even sure what his parents do and don’t have to even suggest something like this. But Mali thought it might be a good place to stop so the three of you stopped to look.

“Thanks,” you say to Calum, running a finger over a serving spoon. “For the journal. It helped a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” he beams at you. His attention is still filtering around the store. “I have no clue what to even suggest in a place like this for my parents. They’re not super into stuff like this.”

“You sure a Kiss The Cook apron wouldn’t do the trick?” you joke holding up the red and white apron.

“Hmm, afraid not,” he laughs. The two of you still wonder about the store and you find a couple cookbooks that seem interesting. One’s for cocktails and Calum says it’s a definite--his dad would enjoy flipping through it. Neither he or Mali had gotten one for him before, so it won’t be a duplicate.

“Your mom has a lot of photos you guys. You think she’d be into something like this?” you ask, pointing out to a few picture frames. They’re all collages, just arranged differently. Calum seems to be vaguely interested though Mali worries about the fact that she tends to keep them in a particular way.

“Could make one with the photos you’ve taken over this trip, she loves stuff like that and I’m sure she wishes she could get more photos of us now since we’re gone. We spend a day taking some photos in front of our old stomping grounds and I know she’d love it,” Calum offers looking over to Mali.

She shrugs. “That could work. Sure we can’t say it was from all of us?” she jokes.

“I wouldn’t mind, especially since you two would be doing some leg work in it,” you state.

“If we’re going to do it,” Mali counters. “Let’s go with this one.” She points to a wooden slab with rows of twine wrapped around and clasps that are wooden too where stock photos are currently pinned but it’s clear that you can add your own photos.

“This really blows my flowers out of the water,” Calum mutters, holding onto the paid for box of the wooden frame.

“You also got her the embroidered pillow,” you counter. The pillow has the coordinates of Sydney, LA, and London on it--for each of the cities they’re in respectively.

“True,” he nods. “But still,”

“If you don’t want--” you start but he cuts you off.

“Hey, no, I want to do this. Shush,” he laughs. “We gotta make another stop though. I’ve seen ads for those portable printers and can print photos and I don’t see either one of you with those old school polaroid cameras.”

“I’ll have you know,” Mali teases. But she interrupts her own joke as a ponderous hum falls from her. She rattles off a couple stores that could have it.

“Let’s give it a shot,” Calum returns. The first store is a bust but the second one has it. They grab one of the last ones off the shelf and scurry to the lines. They’re long and it’s no avoiding it two days from Christmas. The rest of the day, Mali navigates, pulling over into random parking lots and telling stories about their childhood.

You snap as many photos as you can. Some are more planned than others but it’s okay. You play with angles, flipping your phone upside to get some cool shots and you’re honestly impressed with the quality of just a cellphone camera. By the time it starts to get dusk, you’re half convinced your phone will alert you that you’re almost out of space. It’s not too hard to sneak the bags up to the bedrooms. You take up distracting Joy just a little as Calum and Mali book it up the steps.

“Oh, this reminds me,” Joy says standing right as Mali clears the first step. “If you need any sort of wrapping supplies they’re in here,” she directs you down the hall and you watch Calum and Mali clear into one of the bedrooms, you think it’s Mali’s before diverting your attention back to the wrapping paper.

“Thanks,” you nod at her. “I’ll be down in a few if you want help with dinner?”

“An extra pair of hands never hurt,” she counters with a grin and it’s become a tradition, or a thing at the very least that you help her with dinner and she’s given up on trying to shoo you out of the kitchen.

You take the stairs slowly, but you can feel the buzzing in your pocket. No doubt Calum bugging you relentlessly that you’re needed upstairs. You find them in Mali’s room situated on the floor as she removes the pictures from the frame and Calum seems to messing with the printer.  “Thank you for joining us,” he teases. Music starts up and the door closes.

You settle on the floor next to him. “My job was to distract so that’s what I did. What do I need to do?”

“Pairs with BlueTooth, so I just gotta get this thing on.”

“Let me know when it’s up,” you return and then pull up the photos you took on your phone. Mali helps pick out which photos have to go onto the frame. It’s only a minute or two later that Calum tells you to make sure your phone has the BlueTooth turned on.

“You cannot use that,” he laughs, as the first photo prints out. “I look so dumb in that take.”

Mali laughs. “Oh, c’mon it’s a pretty shot.”

“Yeah of you,” he returns.

You swipe to the next photo and there are no photo blunders for either one of them so you print that one down. Some are in front of buildings that you’re not even sure could mean anything. A couple are of Calum’s old practice field for soccer--the same one from the photo you were looking at when Mali first arrived. There are a few of Mali in front of the place she sang to a large audience for the first time. There’s a picture of the Christmas tree as well--Mali and Calum are in the photo adding decorations to it. There’s one of you, in the middle of Calum and Mali, arms wrapped around each other. You’re laughing because even standing you nearly stumble just trying to shift your weight a little, but the picture is perfect as the sun just starts to step a little behind you.

With the last photo printed, you look over the arrangement and give your approval. “Did you remember to grab our wrapping paper?”

“Shit,” Calum sighs. “I’ll run to the car and grab it.” You nod and head back downstairs just in time to help Joy.

It’s late before another opening arrives for you three to place the gift under the tree and during this time you also add Calum’s and Mali’s gift to the bunch. You managed to snag some cool t’s with Calum’s help for her. She eyed them in your shopping adventure and carted them around the store before ultimately deciding to put them back. Calum stayed behind to grab them off the rack while you went with her to the next store.

Over mugs of hot chocolate--though the Australian heat doesn’t warrant it-- you, Mali and Calum sit on the floor in front of the tree. “It’s been nice to outnumber him,” Mali laughs.

“I’m already outnumbered with you and Mum,” he retorts.

“Yeah, but it’s Mum. She counts but like not really. Now you’re outnumbered by someone in our age range.”

Calum shakes his head. “If you say so. I’m glad Mum and Dad weren’t too weird about it.”

You know he hasn’t brought anyone home in a long time. And part of it is probably just time, but another part is deliberate but you don’t know why. “I’m sure they were starting to think I wasn’t real,” you joke.

“Haha,” Calum gently shoves your legs. “You’re a fucking comedian.” You snicker and take another sip from your mug. The night almost doesn’t feel like it’s slipping away as Mali and Calum take turns on the guitar. You climbed up onto the sofa at some point during the night, asbentedmindly playing in Calum’s hair. But somewhere in it the strumming, sleeps pulls you under, you felt your eyes blinking close but weren’t able to recall when the final blink took you full under.

You find yourself startled awake to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Mali’s asleep on the couch, facing the opposite away of you. Calum’s reclined against the sofa between the both of you but still sitting on the floor. There’s a faint light coming from behind you and you squint against it to see the kitchen light’s on. You settle back against the arm of the couch and let yourself fall into sleep a second time.

When you wake the second time, it’s to gentle shakes and you’re not even sure you had fallen asleep again. Until you find yourself stretching again and blinking back the light of the living room. Calum’s slumped to the floor. “No, five more minutes.”

Joy chuckles. “It’s your presents you’ve gotten open.”

“Hmm, maybe I’m awake enough for presents.” Presents are slow to be handed out, mostly to the three of you still trying to wake up. But Mali gets the first tear into the wrapping paper and beams over at you spying the two shirts.

Joy loves the pillow from Calum and the jacket from Mali. Calum gets a few things, most of them necessities but the socks are cool enough to put on immediately. Mali’s content with the clothes she’s received and the necklace. Calum thought about wrapping your journal as a joke but he hands you a tiny stocking stuffed with some candies, a cool pen, and some knicks knacks he found during some of the shopping adventures. David’s tickled as he flips through the cocktail recipes.

“What is this?” Joy laughs pulling on the wooden and twine picture frame ad she’s handed it.

“For you,” you answer. “A collective effort between the three of us.”

“But originally their idea,” Calum tacks on.

Joy looks at the three of you, unsure of what trick might be pulled. She unveils the first corner and pauses. “Seriously, what is this?”

“Just keep going Mum,” Mali counters.

Joy continues tearing at the wrapping paper and she gasps for a moment noticing the photos hanging from the pins. “No way,” she laughs, lifting it up to take a closer look at the photos. “No way,” she whispers.

“The pictures can be switched out, so you can frame some, or just rotate it based on the season,” you explain.

The tears collecting in Joy’s eyes don’t get past you but they do hurt just a little. In a good way. You hadn’t seen a teary eyed smile like Joy’s in such a long time you almost forgot how good it felt, but how much it hurt too.

“You did all this for me?” she asks.

“I had help,” you return. “But I wanted to do something or give you something nice for hosting me the past two weeks and agreeing to take on an extra mouth to feed. It’s a thank you.”

She gives you another one of those hugs that squeeze more than they should, more than thought possibly. You squeeze in return and though you feel a couple tears slip down your cheek, you aren’t so afraid of the emotion. It’s something like loved, maybe it’s understood. Quite possibly it’s just the feeling of being embraced without judgement or restriction. You’re not really sure, but you do know you like it.

“Thank you,” Joy whispers while still hugging you. She makes space for the frame almost immediately though it takes a little rearranging of the living room but she finds the space. You’re sucking on a piece of candy, looking down at your phone. You know your mother is still living in Christmas Eve and the only message she’s gotten from you are about you being safe and okay.

I would send this as an actual letter, but I worry from Australia to home would take too much time. So I guess this works as next best. I can only hope you understand.

The easy things: Australia’s been fun. Haven’t run into a spider as big as my head just yet but there’s still plenty of time. Calum’s family has been amazing. I helped with Christmas decorations. Joy and I are cooking buddies. If I never had to leave, I probably wouldn’t.

And on and on you go about the tails of this particular vacation before getting to the hard stuff, how it’s hard sometimes to be home because home feels empty and too far away and how it’s hard sometimes to feel like you fit in the puzzle of it all. You tell her how hurt you are seeing how her side paid the death of your father dust. How nothing’s felt right once and you don’t know what caused it. You don’t know how it started but all you do know is that when dad was around, when you and him had those quiet moments it was closest to right you had every experience until now--sitting in your friend’s childhood home in a whole different country, more than half the day ahead of your own family and watching someone else’s world that you know you’re not really apart of but somehow you fit even as a stranger.

There’s that nagging voice in the back of your head that tells you this could all go to shit. Your mother could read all this and blow her top. But at least she would blow her top knowing the truth and the whole truth at that--that you love your family for being your family but recognizing the detriment happening.

I need you to know Mom. Because Dad didn’t. Or maybe he did, but I know I wasn’t the one that told him. So I am telling you. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to like any of this and I’m not asking you or telling you you have to. But you have to know the truth and I have to tell you.

Before I go, there’s a present for you. Hidden in the top box of Dad’s stuff in your closet. It’s only tiny pieces of me and him, of us, but I hope you enjoy it. I hope it provides comfort.

While you’re not the most crafty, you know your way around a sewing machine. You didn't keep nearly as many t-shirts from family vacations as you would’ve liked to, hanks to a couple moves. But you kept enough and you snagged a few of your dad’s t-shirts and some of his old flannels too. All together it made a decent sized blanket--it could’ve been larger but there were a few failed starts before you got the true hang of it.

You’re not sure the whole message will send correctly and you think maybe it should’ve been an email, but that feels even less personal. So you watch the message lift up, hover for just a moment before it settles down and just beneath it, Delivered, pops up. Immediately, you place your phone face down. A watched pot never boiled and a watched text is never actually read.

“Calum!” Mali laughs. Just behind you they go barreling past, through the living room and he tries to make an escape up the steps but she manages to lunge fast enough to take hold of the back of his t-shirt. “Drop the cookies and no one has to get hurt.”

“Never!” he cries in return. His attempts are half hearted and you can only giggle watching them. That in turn earns you target as a potential accomplice and he calls out to you to get you to take the cookies and make an escape.

You walk over, take the packet of cookies. They’re decorated for Christmas and you decide take one off the top is fair pay for whatever mess you’re stepping into. After your take the first bite of your cookie, you hand the packet over to Mali who happily release Calum to snag a couple. “Traitor,” Calum returns, but takes another cookie too.

“I got my pay,” you laugh, polishing off the one cookie in your hand.

David enters then, taking another cookie too. “I got mine too,” he laughs before disappearing again back down the hallway. There are a few things around the house he needed to repair and Calum had been helping him though you suspect more than helping, Calum was sneaking cookies and trying to hide them from Mali. You offered to help too, but David insisted that you actually take a rest at least once during this time away.

You manage to catch the buzz over all the laughter. You don’t think your mother could’ve responded that fast. It’s not possible. But you slip away from the group and grab your phone from the couch cushions. Your heart hammers against your ribs, you can feel the vein in your neck throbbing.

Thank you for the blanket. It’s quite lovely. Glad you’re enjoying Australia. I don’t know if I can say sorry and have it mean much. But in turn, thank you for telling me the truth. Somehow you expected this to be much more emotional, much more earth shattering. But tides don’t change in the blink of an eye and cities don’t build themselves in a day.

“We should have a board game night,” Mali suggests from behind you. “Dunno know. Not much will be open up for long.”

“I’ll kick your ass in Scrabble,” Calum returns, “Anytime.”

And just behind is all you’ve ever really wanted. But just in front of you is all you’ve ever had, your mother and the distance. Maybe it’s not a matter of what you deserve or what is actually yours by blood. Maybe it’s just time to admit that family is also chosen. And you did all you could with your mother. You told her the truth.

A tear splashes onto your screen and you wipe at your eyes quickly. When had those formed? They didn’t even sting that time or maybe they did and you just hadn’t felt it. You’re not sure. Her message doesn’t warrant a response. Though you do imagine for a moment, her curled up on the couch, your blanket across her lap as she snacks on pistachios and the fireplace blazes next to her. The TV is playing Polar Express, her favorite Christmas film. And if the scene is sad, your mother is sad. And if the scene is happy, your mother is happy. And you like it better that she is tethered to the film’s emotions rather than anything going on outside of it.

“You down for a board game night? If not, we can find something else.” Calum’s voice is close and you can feel just how close is he off to the side of you.

“I’m down for a board game night,” you nod. Your voice quivers just a little. Crying is exhausting and you’d wish you had nothing left, but there is always the dregs left. Just enough to make your cheeks wet.

“You good? What’s up?”

“Told my mom,” you answer truthfully.

He figures it didn’t go super well given your silence.  “We can watch movies in my room then.”

“She didn’t threaten to blow up the country so I think we’re good,” you continue on. “But she loves her Christmas present. So I’ll take it as a win.”

“It’s the small victories.”

You nod, looking at the photos hanging right next to the Christmas tree. “Like kicking your ass in Scrabble,” you laugh. “I’m on Mali’s team.”

“Fighting words, those are fighting words. I brought you out here and you already turned over my cookie stash. Now you’re going against me in Scrabble! Really?”

“I’ve chosen you over and over,” you admit quietly. You’ve chosen him as a friend, and confidante and you appreciate him for being there. But you don’t say all that, instead you counter with, “But I think sometimes I should kick your ass in a game of Scrabble or too.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he returns with a laugh.

“I am,” you state simply. “I am lucky.”

[peggyrose19]

Picture Frames and Ocean Waves

Heeheehee we’re back with some St. Tweedle angst, part 1. This is not related to the newest chapter, although there will be something coming at some point related to that, don’t you worry :) Anyway, here’s Saint looking back on the day Luke left for university.

song for this fic: Castaway - 5SOS (i did say ages ago it had rk vibes)

characters by @lumosinlove. tagging @im-oknutzy-trash and @wonder-womans-ex my st. tweedle partners in crime.

Saint stared unseeingly out at the ocean. The waves crashed and melted into each other, the same grey-blue as the sky. It was cold out, what passed for winter fast approaching as September came to a close, but Saint didn’t notice the chill in the air. Nor did he particularly care. Luke’s house loomed behind him, empty save for the housekeeper, busy somewhere in the heart of it. His mom was somewhere; Saint didn’t particularly care. He cared far more about where Luke was, hundreds of miles away at university. 

That last summer had crept up on them fast. Saint had always known he’d never be able to leave the island, at least not for long. And he’d always known Luke would never be able to stay. He had just never imagined it hurting quite so much.

“Hey, Tweedle,” Saint sang, pulling himself easily through Luke’s open window. He left it open a lot these days. 

Luke didn’t look up from his laptop sitting before him on his bed. “Hey.”

Saint peered over his shoulder. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing,” he replied tersely. “‘M waiting.”

“For?” Saint prompted. It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes. 

“Decisions come out today. This is my first choice school.” He gestured to the screen, and Saint squinted at it. 

“Oh.” Saint felt something welling up in him, some foreign feeling that choked the air from his lungs and made his heart constrict painfully. He decidedly did not like it. 

“Yeah. Should be out in-” Luke glanced at the clock- “two minutes.” 

“So why are you looking now?”

Luke glanced away from the screen to glare at Saint, who just smirked at him. 

“I hate it when you make sense,” he grumbled. Saint grinned, and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Luke’s lips. 

“Bet I can distract you for the next, hmmm 90 seconds,” he murmured. Luke looked as though he wanted to protest, but Saint cocked an eyebrow, and he seemed to give in, tilting his chin up again to catch Saint’s lips once more. 

Saint had always loved kissing Luke. He was warm, comforting. Familiar. Even that first time, pushed against the wall in this very room, wrists pinned under Luke’s strong grip. Or the second time, being pelted with wind and rain in the middle of the ocean, torn apart by the storm too soon. They’d kissed many times since then, more than kissed, and yet it never got old for Saint, never lost the magic and comfort Luke brought. 

“Mmph, gotta check,” Luke muttered against his lips, pulling Saint from his thoughts. Saint rolled his eyes, Luke already turned away. He raised a hand to his lips, the taste of Luke still on his tongue. 

He watched lazily as Luke refreshed the page, logging in once more with a frustrated groan. But his fingers froze on the keyboard as it loaded and a letter popped up on the screen. 

“I got in,” he breathed. “I got in.” He turned to Saint with wild eyes, a smile alighting his face, and Saint didn’t know what to do with that.

He tried for a smile. “Well, of course you did Tweedle.” 

In the next moment, Saint found himself in Luke’s arms, falling awkwardly back against the mattress. Luke held him close, and as his body shook, Saint realized Luke was laughing.  

“Why are you laughing?” Saint asked, pulling back as best he could to see Luke’s face. His eyes held more joy than Saint had never seen in them. 

“Cause I fucking got in! I’m going to fucking university, Saint!” 

“It means you’re leaving.”

That was the thing, wasn’t it? Luke was always going to leave, the island, his family, Saint. For a while, Saint had had a chance at keeping him. With his father in prison, Saint knew there was no chance of him leaving. But then he was released. And then arrested once more. And Luke had given up. 

And Saint had lost his chance.

He wanted Luke back. He wanted him home and safe and in his arms, not off at some fucking university with strangers and a new city and not him. Of course, Saint would rather be caught dead than admit that. 

He’d said it anyway. And then Luke had left.

The sun had long since set when Luke said goodbye. Saint stood beside him on the beach, watching the calm waves lap at the shore. He held tightly to Luke’s hand. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Saint had whispered, words getting washed away by the breeze. But Luke heard him. He always did. 

“I know.”

Saint hugged wryly. “You’re still going though. Aren’t you?” 

“I have to, Saint. I can’t go back now, it’s too late. I leave in the morning.”

Saint squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the fear and anger and pain that threatened to well up and spill out, refusing to show all the terrible weakness he always kept hidden. 

But Luke always seemed to know, as he reached out to cup Saint’s cheek, warm and comforting. Saint turned into his hand, but said nothing, refusing to look at him. He knew he’d only find pity and sorrow in those eyes, and that would only make him break. 

“Saint. Look at me.” Those nimble fingers lifted his chin until their eyes met. Saint immediately wanted to look away. “Don’t be mad at me. Please.”

“Why not?” 

“Because, Saint! Not all of us can just stay on this fucking island! I get that you have some twisted need to stay here, but I can't. Okay? I am not you. I have to get out. And this is my way.”

Saint stared at Luke with wide eyes. He rarely snapped. Last time had been almost a year ago, at James’ house, right before that cursed storm had hit. 

“Fine.” 

And he turned and walked away.

When Saint looked back on it, he wished he hadn't left. He wished he’d stayed, or turned around as Luke called after him. 

He wished a lot of things. 

With a sigh, he turned his back on the familiar sea and walked across the Deveaux’s perfectly manicured lawn towards the house. He crept around back, to the familiar window always lit with golden light. Luke had left it open. 

Saint eased the window open and climbed inside, flipping on the lamp on Luke’s bedside table. The room filled with light, reminding Saint of late summer nights spent lying on Luke’s bed together, sometimes reading, sometimes kissing. 

With a sigh, he turned to Luke’s desk, and the scant few items left there. A lamp, a few pens and pencils, various knick-knacks, a few books, some photos. Saint’s gaze stopped on them. The top one was a picture Luke had taken back in February. It was of him, flipping off the camera with a smirk. 

He remembered that day. The two of them had fallen asleep on the beach that night, woken at dawn by the sunlight. Saint had sand in his hair, blown to the side by the wind. Luke had smiled at him for a long moment, sun lighting up his eyes, before pulling out his nearly-dead phone and snapping a picture. But not before Saint flipped him off. 

He hadn’t known Luke printed it out, wasn’t actually sure how he’d done it. There were others, of the beach, of the lacrosse fields, even one of the two of them together. He didn’t know why he’d left them there either. Or maybe he did. 

Saint felt… lonely, without Luke. He had no anchor anymore, left adrift at sea, abandoned. He couldn’t help but compare Luke to his mom, leaving him behind with barely a backward glance, never giving him a second thought. It hurt, in a way he hated himself for, hated his mom and Luke and everyone else for. Not that they’d truly done anything wrong. Or maybe they had. Saint didn’t know anymore. 

The morning Luke left, Saint waited for him at the docks. Boat was the only way off the island, with the airstrip long out of commission. Saint had watched Luke and his mom pull up, her car looking shiny and new as it always did. Luke had climbed out with barely a second glance, tugging his backpack and suitcase out of the trunk. Saint guessed one didn’t need much at university. 

Luke didn’t see him, but that was intentional. Saint didn’t want to be seen. The night before seemed so far away, so different from the morning. He didn’t know how they’d gotten here, avoiding each other, hating each other. Well. Pretending to hate each other. Saint could never truly hate him. 

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Saint watched Luke climb onto the boat and disappear below deck. He felt like a cliché movie character, waving their lover off to war or some shit, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even with Luke out of sight, that pull stayed, long after the boat pulled away and became a small dot on the horizon. 

He had turned away angrily, pretending the tears in his eyes were from the wind or the pollen.

His heart had cracked, the day Luke left. A part of it sailing off to some other country, some other continent. These days Saint couldn’t quite decide if he wanted it back or not. He wanted Luke back, more than he truly cared to consider. But he had given Luke a part of himself knowing full well what it might mean, what it might lead to. And he’d done it anyway, choosing to trust him in what may just have been the stupidest move in his life. 

One day, he’d come back. As Saint sank into Luke’s desk chair, the picture in his hands, he could only hope that was true.

[actualbird]

Polyam NXX where they all fuck the depressing thoughts out of Luke? Marius fucking his ass, Artem riding his dick, Rosa riding his face, and Vyn kissing and caressing him all over, all at the same time.

n/s//f///w text in response (and also in the ask itself kjdsbfj) and oh god again why is this response so long, it is 1k words

HHGRHRGRGHR ANON....this caters to so many things i love so much, 1) luke being fucked to the high heavens, 2) LUKE TERRIBLY DEPPRESSING THOUGHTS ON HIMSELF, 3) nxx investigation polycule <3!!!

i can sense that this ask wants me to focus on the smut aspect of this and i will get to that but first i wanna talk about like. man, luke, in his relationship with the other four, would have his self doubt and self loathing magnified fourfold than if he was just with one person, i think.

he'd think terrible things like how hes dragging so many people down, how hes a greedy person, letting his life touch so many people's lives and fill their lives with sadness and worry. the other four know that luke has thoughts like this, and they all do their part in reassuring and comforting him and being there for him when hes put himself in a dark place. and it helps. it really, really helps to have people who love you, even the sad parts. but relationships also dont "fix" a person, they cant just magically get rid of doubts and insecurities. nobody in the group is under the impression that love is going to "fix" the sadness luke has, but thats not going to stop them from loving him anyway. luke is grateful, luke pours his love out to them back times a hundred...

but deep in his heart, theres a cruel voice that sounds like his own telling him it's never going to be enough, what he gives. that nothing he will do will ever make up for the fact that he's him.

still, after a while of dating the others, after a while of being steadily encouraged little by little to reach out when he needs help and comfort, luke hazards a chance to ask one day. for the first time ever.

i can imagine the scene something like this:

the whole team managing to find a space in their busy schedules to meet up together outside of nxx business. theyre at mc's apartment maybe. artem is cooking dinner while marius commentates the cooking from where he's seated at the dining nook, "when onions hit the pan, the panties hit the FLOOR." and artem throws a dishtowel at marius' face fondly. softly, music plays from some speakers hooked up to somebody's tablet, some calm old song. vyn and mc are being horrendously romantic, idly dancing to the music and laughing when marius squawks at artem's dishtowel attack. and luke sits on the couch, looking at all of them, feeling such a burst of light from his heart. these are his partners, silly and loving and wonderful, and he wants to give them all the love he has in his heart.

but the thing about luke is that his happiness has always been annotated with doubt. in the footnotes of all his joys is the dark voice inside of him, the voice that sounds like his own, telling him he doesnt deserve this.

but he can see them though. he can see how brightly they all shine, how they always coax him to stand in the light. so after dinner has been eaten (it's delicious, obviously, artem wing homecook masterchef), after the movie they picked out has been watched (it was marius' turn to pick the movie and he picked something stupidly trashy yet raucously enjoyable to watch with others), after they start retiring to go bed together (GOD, im assuming they all get like, bigger beds sjkdbfkjd, marius is the wallet of this polycule, it's fine, he'll cover it), after all that, luke asks.

he asks for help. he trembles ever so slightly as he does it, looking away, and the rest of them can see that him doing this is something agonizing for him. that admitting that hes hurting and asking for comfort is something that seems to pain him, not because he doesnt like them and the love they give, but because he doesnt like himself, because he doesnt see himself as worthy to receive that love.

"i--i dont know what im asking for, actually," luke lets out a self deprecating laugh as he starts to backpedal back into the shadows, overwhelmed by how in this moment, theyre seeing him. theyre seeing the messy part of him he hates so, so much. "sorry, you know me. my head gets like this. sorry. i'll get over--"

hes stopped before he can continue that sentence. mc is the first one to hold his face gently, to coax him to look at her, and in her gaze isnt the disgust luke was expecting. it's something open and beautiful, and when luke looks at everybody else, the same thing is clear in their eyes.

they see this part of him he hates so much and they dont turn him away like he does with himself. they accept him and their kindness starts to wash over the shores of luke's heart.

i like to think they didnt actually plan to have hot group sex focused on fucking the depressing thoughts of luke pearce. it goes more like... mc kisses luke all gentle and sweet and then marius goes to hug luke from behind and he starts praising luke in a teasing way that makes luke laugh softly against mc's lips. when mc pulls away (and she pulls away with a smile), artem is the one who kisses luke next, passionate and devoted and vyn joins in on the "praise luke pearce" agenda, whispering sweet nothings to luke as luke starts to tremble once more, not in hatred or fear this time though, but in how overwhelmed he is. eventually the reassuring kisses and touches start to get a little bit heated because come on, luke is being held and touched by four beautiful people, it's hard to NOT get hard when that happens, and the rest are also easy to get worked up when theyre all together and close and intimate like this.

SO YEAH, they get to fucking!!!! very focused on luke because the other four reach this unspoken agreement to like, make luke feel so good that his mind can go blank tonight. that he can just let go and let them take care of him.

and take care of him they DOOOOOO. in between moaning against mc's cunt, shaking from sensations of fucking artem and being fucked marius, his body relentlessly touched by vyn, all his lovers taking pleasure from luke and giving pleasure back, luke loses himself. he lets go.

the voice in his mind does not quiet so much as be spoken over by the loving voices of his lovers.

his body submits to their actions. his mind fills with their words. and his heart?

he gives that to them to take care of.

[talkfastromance4]

this is for mama as much as it is for lily but can we please get a blurb where he takes them to aus and they meet his family? and mama is nervous that his parents aren’t actually happy about him dating a single mom but they absolutely love her and lily esp because liz only had sons and adores having a little girl around the house even if it’s just for a short few weeks ❤️❤️- 🌸

love love love this!

• • • •

Luke had been bouncing around the house the entire week before the three of you were to fly off to Australia for 2 1/2 weeks to visit his family. You were an excited type of nervous but with the nerves overpowering by a landslide. Luke is a big help in preparing everything you’d need for Lily.

An 18+ hour flight with a three year old isn’t going to be an easy task. Lily’s fantastic overall but you know how restless she can get. Thankfully the flight was at 4 in the morning so she’d be sleeping for a while. 

For the first half of the flight she was in Luke’s lap, clutching onto his shirt along with her bunny and snuffy. She’s never been on a plane before and the loud noises frightened her but with Luke talking and singing to her quietly, it seemed to ease her fear. 

You, on the other hand was experiencing a different kind of fear. You’re worried about what his family will think of Luke dating a single mom. Would they think you’re with him for his fame? That you need him to take care of you and Lily. 

“Hey,” Luke’s voice snapped you out of your reverie after the flight. He rented a car that came equipped with a car seat for Lily who was happily kicking her legs freely. “Stop worrying that pretty little head over there.”

“I’m not,” you say too quickly and he smiles at your obvious lie. He reaches over to stroke your cheek then take your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles. 

“They’re so excited to meet you, especially mum. She told me all the presents she’s bought Lily already,” he laughs. 

***

When you finally arrive at his parents’ house, there’s other cars there as well that you’re assuming belong to his brothers. 

“She’ll probably want to be by me for a while,” you warn Luke as he pulls Lily from her seat. 

“I know, you’re both each other’s comforts,” he smiles then kisses Lily’s nose who giggles. “Okay, go by mama my sweet.”

Lily settles into your arms naturally and you follow Luke up to the house where his parents are already waiting by the door, Liz has a huge smile on her face when she opens it. 

“Hello my darlings!” she exclaims already reaching for Luke for a hug. 

“Hi mum,” he greets hugging her back and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Uh, there’s two people I’d like you to meet.”

You take that as your cue to step forward with Lily holding tightly to your neck. You smile nervously and take Luke’s hand which helps anchor you back to earth, he makes you feel solid and steady. 

“Mum, dad, this is Y/N and her amazing little girl, Lily,” Luke smiles proudly, dimple showing and all. 

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings,” you smile nervously.

“Oh, call me Liz,” she waves it off and smiles kindly at Lily. “I’ve seen pictures from Luke but she’s definitely more beautiful in person. Both of you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush then rub Lily’s head. “She’s very shy,” you tell his parents who nod.

“Hello miss Lily,” Liz says gently.

“Can you say hi to Lu’s mama, baby?” you ask her rubbing the back of her head.

“Lu?” she asks and her head perks up a little. She looks to Luke who moves closer to his mom. 

“This is my mama,” he says putting his arm around her, “and this is my dad.”

“Hi Lu mama,” Lily says quietly then quickly buries her head in your neck. You all laugh at her cuteness and you kiss her head. 

“She’ll warm up to you eventually,” Luke smiles.

When you all head inside, Ben and Jack are waiting by the couch, small gifts of their own in their hands. You give Luke a knowing glare but he just shrugs it off and kisses your temple. 

***

For the rest of the trip, Lily really opens up to Luke’s family. She absolutely adores Liz and always wants to cuddle her when you’re all together. Everyone has fallen in love with Lily and Liz, a mother herself, paid very close attention to how you and Luke worked as a unit with Lily. 

She noticed how Lily would go to both you and Luke equally if she hurt herself or if she wanted to show you something. She noticed how Luke’s face lit up when Lily would call him ‘dada’ and you explained that Cory is ‘daddy.’ She noticed how much Luke absolutely adored you and Lily.

She remembers how torn up he was when you’d broken up for those three months. His voice was void of life whenever he’d answer her calls. She loves how happy you all seem and can’t wait to see what’s in store for your future.

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @wokeupinjapanisabop @myloverboyash  @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @wildflowerxcth @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @thesubtweeter @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally

[deadwatcrs]

⟨  tom holland  ,  non-binary demiboy  ,  he/they  ,  22  ⟩   there  goes  ARTHUR ‘ARTIE’ HART  after  the  opposing  team’s  flag  ,  the  child   of  APHRODITE  who  was  claimed  to  CABIN TEN  eleven years  ago  .  wielding  their  SPEAR  ,  and  their  inherited  TELEPORTATION  at  the  ready  ,  they’re  sure  to  lead  their  team  to  victory  .  after  all  ,  it  was  their  demigod  prowess  that  proved  to  be  vital  during  the  arduous  and  decisive  JOURNEY TO FIND DAEDALUS AND THE MAP OF THE LABYRINTH  (  demigod  18  )  they  ventured  on  in  the  past  .  don't  let  their  feat  fool  you  though  ,  it  was  during  this  quest  that  they  were  challenged  by  their  FEAR OF ABANDONMENT AND LONELINESS  .  perhaps  that  is  the  reason  they've  chosen  to  side  with  the  titan  army  .

hello hello !!! so excited to be here with everyone :-) !!! i’m mira, i’m 20, i use she/her pronouns nd i live in the gmt+8 zone, so u can expect me awake when no one else is KJEHHSEJK i’ve been a fan of pjo since like,,,, i was 12 nd was literally convinced i was a demigod so u can imagine !!!! that when i saw this rp i was like !!!! [screams] 

anyways !! this is arthur ‘artie’ hart nd they are New so i’m still working out a lot of their story, but im v excited to see where they’ll go :-) i have a few connections regarding his story nd also just ,, slapped som stuff down from the app into here HEKJHESJK 

PART ONE.    THE BASICS.

name: arthur ‘artie’ hart. prefers to go by artie, as arthur is what his aunt calls him. age: twenty-two. zodiac: born on july 21st, 1999, making him a cancer sun, scorpio moon and leo rising. gender & pronouns: nonbinary demiboy. uses he/him and they/them pronouns. romantic orientation: bisexual.

PART TWO.     THE HIDDEN DEPTHS, THE SCRATCHED LAYER.

positive traits: compassionate / perceptive / mild-mannered. negative traits: pessimistic / evasive / easily jealous. mbti: ENFJ - the protagonist. moral alignment: chaotic good. what is their motivation?: artie is motivated, primarily, by the desire to never find themselves abandoned and alone. growing up with an absent goddess of a mother, a mother deep in her memories of a lover she’ll never see again and an aunt who tried to give them a foundation to grow from meant that their life was more or less marred by the concept of loneliness, of abandonment. 

artie wants, more than anything else, for no future demigods to feel the same way they did — and if that means tearing down olympus and getting rid of the gods, then they were willing to turn the other cheek, to contribute bare bones to take on the least amount of blood and ichor. aphrodite had never made a move to acknowledge him other than the obligatory favor of claiming him as her child, and the knowledge that she too had abandoned him pushed him to the side of the titans.

the choice to do the bare minimum is rooted in the fact that they are still very much attached to camp half-blood and everyone within it, as they had been there for half their life. it is a decision rooted in wanting the best for the camp and its campers even if the decision is a difficult one. after all, what have the gods ever done for the hundreds of children they’ve brought into the world?

what was growing up like?: for starters, artie appreciates that his aunt tried. their mother was far too wrapped up in memories of a lover long gone, and aphrodite had never once made an effort beyond dropping them off at their mother’s doorstep and then claiming them as her child eleven years later. growing up was difficult. like any demigod child, there were instances that could never be explained, like the time artie was in his room one minute and the living room the next without ever having touched his closed door and the time his backpack was torn to shreds while he was still wearing it. still, they had to push through childhood, often seeking comfort in the arms of their aunt when the monsters got too close. at eleven, a satyr brought artie to camp half-blood after discovering their teleportation ability (it was a stupid incident, and one artie is reluctant to tell again, but it ends with falling asleep while their foot was in a toilet bowl while walking to class). 

camp half-blood was a haven for artie as their heritage was unraveled. aphrodite claimed him a week after he arrived at camp, and he was immediately drawn to the change in lifestyle. it was a relief for all the pieces to fall into place, for artie to realize that they weren’t different. at thirteen, they became a year rounder camper after their aunt had encouraged them to stay, knowing their mother couldn’t keep them safe. their time at camp was divided into learning how to fight with a spear (a weapon that quickly became their go-to, the one weapon they were actually proficient with) and learning how to manage their ability. however, worry constantly nagged at them, as they realized they were only putting off a life alone. artie may not have been different, but there were very few people who lived like they did.

PART THREE.     THE EXTRAS, THE CONNECTIONS.

ambrosia tastes like the cranberry-walnut cookies their aunt used to make for them.

they have a little mp3 player because they absolutely cannot live without listening to music. it’s not connected to wifi or data, just a little device that hosts illegally downloaded music.

interchangeably uses he and they pronouns. gender identity was something artie struggled with growing up, as they never felt totally connected to their assigned gender at birth but didn’t feel totally disconnected from it either. it took a lot of google searches, long late night talks with the nymphs and his aunt and encouragement from their fellow siblings before they realized they were non-binary, and furthermore, a demi-boy. they do have a preference for people to refer to them with ‘he/him’ pronouns, while they tend to use ‘they/them’. of course, they don’t really mind what people use as long as it’s either he or them, and ultimately, artie is just happy he’s got this part of himself figured out.

handy with a spear. they tend to spin the weapon around their hand as part of their signature move, and yes, it is just to show off how good he is at spinning it.

pinterest here.

i.    this house burned down and we’ll take the memories with it.

this would be the person who artie is closest to and considers family. they would’ve been there for his every milestone, the person who had his back more often than not and vice versa. however, after artie is revealed to be part of luke’s army, betrayal strains their relationship. i can see this connection (in current times) focusing heavily on the fact that they’re both on directly opposing sides but want the other to be by their side, but being unable to switch sides themselves. this connection is also one heavily steeped in years and years of friendship, as artie has been at camp since he was eleven, and then switched to being a year-rounder at thirteen.

ii.    and where have the gods gone? taken by rainier gang.

artie didn’t want to switch to the titan’s side at first. he was convinced over a long period of time, and this connection focuses on the dynamic between artie and whoever took the time to convince him to switch sides. seeing as one of artie’s deepest fears is ending up alone and abandoned, maybe this dynamic focused on that aspect! honestly, i’m open to however this connection develops since it’s a pretty open-ended one.

iii.     for these are shared wounds. taken by emri kyung, salem poe.

in short, they have been artie’s sparring partner since he was a new camper. as a child of aphrodite, there was always that expectation that he’d be useless in a battlefield and this person took a chance on him, showing him everything he now knows about how to fight. they aren’t close by any means but there is comfort in intimately knowing what they’re like on a battlefield. how this dynamic develops depends on which side (or none, if they’re neutral!) the other person is on.

other wanted connections:

literally anything my brain is tiny LOL