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demigod-shenanigans · 27 days ago

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The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing.

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again.

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning.

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual.

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world.

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn.

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling.

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew.

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked.

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant.

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think.

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner.

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea.

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation.

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor.

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried.

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack.

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?”

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this.

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now.

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with.

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again.

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

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waklman · 2 years ago

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Glue Song (Pt. 1)

summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: negative self talk

a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.

word count: 2.5k

next part

“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him.

“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.

If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.

Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin.

He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.

“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again.

Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary.

After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.

Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.

Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you.

There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other.

As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work.

You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented.

That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed.

When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this.

And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you.

After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else.

After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside.

And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car.

Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you.

“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.

Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him.

“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.

“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing.

“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time.

“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him.

“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink.

“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course.

Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you.

“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right.

“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.

“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him.

“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.

He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that.

“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects.

“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.

“I have you and Javy.”

“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile.

“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes.

“Cute. So like a date?”

You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat.

“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face.

“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified.

Well, it’s not like you weren’t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.

Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said.

“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.

“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”

“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.”

Of course I do, he thinks.

Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself.

“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile.

Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.

“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”

“Mine is physical touch.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you.

“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms.

“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement.

The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.

Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him.

And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster.

“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him.

Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say.

Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together.

“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.

You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured.

“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders.

Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves.

Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes.

Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith.

Javy pulls himself together.

“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.

Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you.

“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked.

Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn.

“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”

“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.

“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.

“Of course” he answers, right away.

Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply.

“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins.

Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable.

When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.

“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves.

His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.

“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him.

It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.

“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join my taglist here or follow me on @waklman-library & turn on notifs there to be notified when i post!

not my gif! if anyone knows the creator please let me know!!

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x oc #bradley bradshaw #javy machado #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #tgm imagine #top gun maverick #tgm au #top gun fic #top gun 2 #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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eternalwanderer-stories · 3 months ago

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Perhaps this is an unpopular opinion, but still.

Many are afraid that the second season will not meet their expectations. It's logical that the authors won't follow what the fans want. I know the rules of this game well: you don't build any expectations – you don't end up with any disappointments. But despite this, I myself have two expectations – the interaction of Viktor and Jinx (seriously, Vi and Jayce got a whole scene with a cool soundtrack in the first season, and my beloved babygirl and my beloved boy did not get any scenes together, where is justice?) and scenes where Viktor would work on creating a Blitzcrank (I want it so much, you can't even imagine). But judging by the trailer that came out, I'm unlikely to get any of this.

But actually, more than all this, I'm afraid that the authors will just confirm some of the ideas of the fans. You know, those same ideas, similar to tropes from fanfiction like: Silco suddenly rises from the dead, Ekko begins to travel through time and in parallel universes because everyone eventually died and he tries to turn back time, Vander is actually the real father of Vi and Jinx and by the power of his daughters' love from Warwick turns back into human again, Victor resurrects Skye, and Jinx and Ekko arrange a lavish wedding in the end, everyone lived together and happily as one big family and all that sort of thing.

Is it cool in fan fiction? Yes, why not, that's what they're made for.

Is it cool in the show? I do not think so.

Arcane in the first season maintains a very good tone and a very good narrative atmosphere. It would be a shame if this tone suddenly changed unexpectedly in the second season.

I don't want Arcane to repeat Voltron's fate. Whoever was or is still in Voltron's fandom understands what I'm talking about. For those who do not know, I will tell you briefly: Voltron: Legendary Defender was released in 2016 and immediately fell in love with a huge number of people, receiving an unprecedented number of laudatory reviews. Cool characters, an interesting and well-developed plot, the series instantly became an audience favorite (it was not elevated to the rank of masterpieces, like Arcane, but it was very close to it). Almost everyone heard about him, talked about him, wrote about him, praised him. However, closer to the final season, everything changed. And then there was a leak (a familiar situation, right?) – footage of some plot twists from the final season has been leaked to the Internet. Not as big as Arcane's, but critical for those who didn't want to know in advance how it would end. Most of them, of course, refused to watch them. But there were also those who looked, and they instantly turned into those annoying people who whined all the time about how bad everything was going to be. And then the final season came out and it was very bad. A number of absolutely catastrophic decisions that the screenwriters made were more like it was written either in a drunken delirium, or the creators sat all night and read fan fiction on the Wattpad, drawing ideas from there. The characters' characters were strange, their actions were illogical, the whole narrative was madly in a hurry, on the contrary it was too long where it was not required, attention was not paid to really important storylines – simply put, there was no trace of the good early seasons, and the ending absolutely did not work as it should. Comparing the initial seasons and the final one, it was hard to imagine that this was the same series, it differed so much in quality (although, to be fair, there are many who accepted all this and liked it – no kidding, I'm glad for you, but I remember too vividly how much I was disappointed).

So, I don't want Arcane to go the same way. There is SO MUCH going on in the new trailer that the question comes to mind by itself – how can you adequately fit all this into 9 episodes? Maybe it's really just pointless and stupid worries, but the first season was so good that it's doubly scary now.

I don't want the story to suddenly turn into fanfiction in Wattpad.

(I remind you that this is a leak-free zone. Please, if you have watched the leaks, no need to spoiler in the comments or in reblogs).

#I have nothing against fanfiction #I write and read them myself #but #fanfiction and shows are different things #arcane #arcane season 2 #jinx #jinx arcane #viktor arcane #viktor

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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Soulmate AU Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five

Steve doesn’t see him, bent over the hood of the car, elbow deep and sweat dripping from his forehead despite the cool breeze. He makes a frustrated noise and there’s an ominous clanging sound. Eddie’s never been good at sitting still, at minding his own business, especially when it comes to Steve. He feels pulled towards him, wanting to help, at his breaking point with this tension between them.

Maybe it’s the universe intervening or maybe Eddie has no self preservation skills when he stops behind Steve and asks, “Need a hand?”

Steve startles so bad he hits his head on the hood and curses. When he turns around, he stops and sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie.” He looks back at the hood of the car with eyebrows furrowed. “How hard did I hit my head?”

“I can help.” Eddie moves closer and peers into the car.

“With my head?” Steve is rubbing at it now and Eddie’s beginning to wonder if he’s concussed.

“The car.”

“Oh.” Steve steps aside, giving him a strange look, and lets Eddie work on it, undoing whatever Steve thought he was fixing and addressing the real problem. Steve’s too quiet. And Eddie’s never been good with silence, either.

“I’m sorry I ruined your life.” Eddie says, so quiet he’s surprised Steve even heard it. It’s not what he meant to say. It tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought. Something that’s been on his mind since Steve came back to school looking like the thought of Eddie being his soulmate ripped his bright future right out of his hands.

He doesn’t pull himself up to look at Steve. He can’t. Just stays bent over, working on fixing the car, and screaming inside his own head at his stupidity. He can’t even get this first conversation right, no wonder Steve wants nothing to do with him.

“Ruined my life?” Eddie does finally turn around at Steve’s tone. The way it sounded like a question, like he doesn’t know exactly what Eddie’s referring to.

“I know my name’s on your wrist. I know it’s probably the last name you wanted there. Fate is a cruel bitch attaching you to me like that. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Wheeler and that you’ll have to lie to everyone about whose name is there for the rest of your life. You deserve better than that.”

“You-” Steve rubs the back of his head, blinking slowly, “you think you ruined my life?”

“Not showing up to school for a week was a pretty good indicator that I’m not what you expected,” he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant even though he’s dying inside.

“Is that why you didn’t talk to me for a year after my name appeared on your wrist?” Steve glances down at the cuff on his arm. “Because you think I deserve better?”

Eddie nods and Steve scoffs.

“So you made that decision for both of us? What about what I wanted?”

“You were dating Nancy and we’ve never talked in four years of attending the same school. You’re a jock and I’m just a freak. Why would the golden boy of Hawkins want anything to do with me?”

“I’m so sick of people thinking that they know what’s best for me!” Steve yells and Eddie jerks back. He’s never seen Steve snap like that. “Every single person in my life thinks they should have a say in who I should be with, but what about me? I waited eighteen years to find out what name was going to appear on my wrist. I didn’t care if it was Nancy, Tommy H, or you, or anyone else. I just wanted to find out who that person was, so I could prove to myself that fate isn’t just a bunch of bullshit like it is with my parents.”

“Steve, I-”

“I just wanted someone to love me.”

There’s a charged silence that hangs in the air, only the sound of Steve’s heavy breathing echoing in the empty parking lot.

“Is that all you see me as? King Steve?” Steve spits out the moniker with venom. And he sounds mad, but his face is doing this thing that Eddie’s never seen before, eyes glassy and lower lip trembling. He looks ready to come apart at the seams.

Eddie takes a moment to think about it and he already knows what his answer is. He’s had a whole year to watch Steve, unbeknownst to him. Steve’s never bullied anyone as far as Eddie knows, but it’s more than that, he’s kind and soft in ways that most of the school doesn’t recognize. Eddie’s seen it from the privacy of his trailer as Steve pulls up to take care of the Mayfield girl when her mom’s on a three day bender. Or that time he caught him carting around a whole car full of preteens that dragged him into the arcade like he was their big brother.

His traitorous little heart has been falling for him this whole time. Quietly picking out all the ways they could fit together, even if Steve never wanted any of this. Eddie had resigned himself to yearning, to imagining a life together that was just out of reach. He doesn’t dare to hope that he’ll have more than that.

“No, you’re more than King Steve.” He nervously fiddles with a strand of hair, pulling it in front of his face. “Or, you’ve never actually been King Steve, I don’t know, man. You’re just so- uh, so wholesome and I’m this.” He waves a greasy hand at his ripped jeans and handmade hellfire shirt. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome before,” Steve huffs out a laugh, face softening with Eddie’s honesty. “You’re not a freak, Eddie. And I don’t think we’re all that different.”

“That’s a good one.”

“No really,” Steve takes a step closer and it takes all of Eddie’s willpower not to turn tail and run. “You were right about one thing, the universe is a cruel bitch, but I don’t think that it gets it wrong very often. I was afraid that you’d think I’m boring or annoying, like you always yelled about in the cafeteria. Just another dumb jock. Thought you’d laugh at all my silly, romantic notions. But I do want those things.”

“You want romance…with me?”

They stare at each other for a moment before Steve nods.

This can’t be happening. He must be having an out of body experience.

“I’d like to try, at least. It may not always be perfect, or easy, but I want to try if you’re open to the idea.” Steve looks determined, nodding once like he’s made up his mind. “Eddie Munson, can I take you out on a date?”

Part Four

Thank you so much to everyone for the overwhelming support on the first two parts of this. I am truly blown away by it all. I’ve never had anything take off like this and there’s so many of you (hi, thank you for following). There were so many requests for tagging on the last post that there’s no way I could fulfill them all, so I’m so so sorry to anyone that might’ve been expecting that. I decided just to not tag anyone to be fair.

Hope that this eases your broken little hearts some, and get ready for some extra fun fluffy goodness soon.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #katie writes

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aliciavance4228 · 5 months ago

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Unpopular Opinion: Demeter Did Nothing Wrong

Alright, maybe the title isn't 100% accurate since she almost wiped the entire human race from earth, but you got the idea.

The thing with Demeter is that nowdays she is demonized/villainized all the time. And the most ironic part is that she is demonized by feminists, which leaves me quite confused, considering the fact that she would technically be a great example of female strength, especially when raporting to "Homeric Hymns to Demeter". But before discussing the myth of seasons, let's talk about her background story:

One thing that is certain about Demeter is that she had horrible experiences with almost all men from her life. Her father ate her. Poseidon raped her disguised as a horse. Zeus raped her as well (which led to the birth of Persephone). Iasion was one of the few men from her life who loved and respected her, and whom she lived with for a while before Zeus became jealous and killed him; yes, he is THAT much of a d-

The only one of her brothers who didn’t hurt her in any way at that time was Hades. And if you take into account the versions of the myths in which Hades was born before her that means that he was the one who took care of her as well during the time when they were trapped in their father's stomach. So it is pretty much implied that he was the only one of The Big Three whom she trusted the most, which makes the discovery that he was the one who kidnapped her daughter even more tragic.

Now, about "Homeric Hymns to Demeter": first of all I want to point out the fact that this myth isn't about Hades and Persephone. They are mostly mentioned in this story rather than actually playing an active role in it, because they have more of a symbolic value above it all. Wheter Persephone came to love Hades in time or despised him for the rest of her eternity is irrelevant, because this myth is not about her but Demeter.

Demeter had already faced some disturbing experiences even before Persephone was kidnapped. And considering the fact that her own daughter was a result of SA, it makes perfect sense why she would be protective towards her and raise her outside of Mount Olympus; every woman that was raped would fear that her daughter would face the same cruel fate.

About the abduction part: it is revealed to us at the beginning that Hades asked Zeus if he can marry his daughter, and he agreed. Hades only needed the approval of the father in order to wed her. Back in the Ancient Greece, especially in the Athens, people had a very patriarchal view on marriage. On short: the marriage would be usually planned between the groom and the father of the bride, her mother not knowing anything about what was going on until her daughter was already taken away from her. This myth is a representation of how the Patriarchy was a dominant system even among deities, with Zeus as its supreme figure.

At this point, the myth of seasons can be already considered a comfort story for mothers who had to endure the loss of their daughters either through death or marriage. This myth, however, has a lighter note as well, and that because Demeter, instead of accepting the fate of her daughter, left her anger free and did anything she could so that she would ultimately convince Zeus to give her daughter back, the last solution being leaving hundreds of humans dying of cold and hunger. This part basically shows how even a patriarchal figure like Zeus can be defeated by a mother's rage (or pure female rage, take it as you wish). Even though this myth is supposed to tell us just how seasons appeared, it can also be used as a moral lesson for men: it is better to consult with your wife and daughter before making a decision, or else there will be GREAT CONSEQUENCES.

And finally, one moment that is indeed very touching yet most people are ignoring for some reason is when her mother Rhea appears in front of her and starts to comfort her after she found out that Persephone ate the promeganate seeds, showing how a mother's mouring over her daughter was a common feeling among most female deities from Greek Mythology.

Now, is Demeter perfect? Absolutely not. And that is okay, because instead of that she is supposed to show in this myth a lot of humane and realistic nuances about what being a woman is like. She is a complex character, and completely demonizing her just because you ship Hades and Persephone is quite disturbing in my honest opinion. Wheter or not you like this couple (I won't condemn you because they are still one of the most stable relationships from Greek Mythology, but that basically shows just how f*cked up myths are in general lmao but anyway....), you have to understand the fact that the "Beauty and Beast" and "A mother's love will always conquer" are two tropes that can co-exist, and that things aren’t just black-and-white.

#greek mythology #greek gods #demeter #zeus #hades #persephone

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marthawrites · 9 months ago

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Matinee Delight

Modern Harwin Strong x fem reader

Word count: 3.2k+

About: While on a cinema date, the movie ends up being something you don't like. You try to talk your boyfriend, Harwin, into bailing early for something more fun.

Includes: Porn with plot to set it up. So, SMUT. Featuring an established relationship, dom(ish) Harwin, teasing, public sex, clothed sex, pet names, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, brief spit play, unprotected vaginal sex, fluff - I think that's everything! Sorry if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! Harwin refers to reader as "little", but as always reader is non-descript. And as always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ♥

If the cut and shape of your dress wasn’t distracting enough, the buttons made it obscenely distracting–for no other reason than they were silly, small, and ridiculous, and Harwin wondered how long it’d take to undo each and every one of them. Part of his brain knew you were talking to him, but the other part was focused–really focused–on those damn buttons. And, of course, your smaller, much softer hand interlaced with his own as you walked to the movie theater; grounding him even as his mind wandered.

It was a lovely dress. Truly. A staple piece in your closet. It wasn’t anything flashy, or fancy, or even particularly trendy. You had an eye for accessories, however, and the combination of jewelry, tights, and boots really made it pop. A hint of spring made the late winter breeze a little forgiving, but not forgiving enough to forego a jacket. You were really feeling this outfit. Harwin was too, apparently!

“Babe? Did you hear me?” You asked your boyfriend, squinting up at him suspiciously.

He blinked, full mouth curving into an easy grin. “Hm? Yes. Of course I heard you, sweetling,” he answered, doing his absolute best to sound as nonchalant as he could. Those brown eyes twinkled with barely contained amusement as he refocused on your face and not the buttons keeping your dress held together.

You saw right through it. “Then what did I say?”

“You were saying how excited you are for the movie.”

You scoffed. “Wrong! I said, I can’t believe you’re taking me to see this movie!”

Harwin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before lifting it to his mouth, kissing the top of it. “It can’t be that bad. I think it’ll be fun to catch something we normally wouldn't.”

The theater had three movies starting all around the same time today. You wanted to see the newest rom com and Harwin wanted to see the latest drama. Since neither of you wanted to give in you decided to roll a dice to make the decision. Two numbers were yours, two were his, and the final two were for the latest action movie.

In a cruel twist of fate neither of you got your chosen movie picked. Instead, the oddball won.

You'd been officially together for less than a year. Neither of you had the best record with past relationships. Because of that, the beginning was extra cautious and a little slow. There was something about this relationship, though, that undoubtedly sparked. Love at first sight? Soul mates? Nothing as cliche as that. But the chemistry was undeniable. You had three months left on the lease to your apartment, and afterward you two talked about moving in together. Things were looking up and moving fast; you loved it.

“Maybe…,” you answered, unconvinced. “If it's bad I can't promise I'll stay.” Amusement laced the otherwise seriousness of your features as your gaze slid up to him.

Now it was his turn to see through it. The little glint in your eye told him everything he needed to know. “Even if I like it?”

“Especially if you like it.”

He let go of your hand and smacked your ass playfully. Leaning down, he murmured, “my rude little love. So cruel to even think of leaving me behind. Behave, princess, I’d hate to have to punish you.”

The warmth of his clean breath over your ear and neck had goosebumps immediately prickling your delicate skin. Despite his words, you knew he’d love to make true to his threat. You giggled. Unable to control the heat rushing to your cheeks, you replied, “then let’s hope it’s good, yes?”

Harwin’s low chuckle sent butterflies fluttering in your belly; muscles beneath tightened when he gave your ass another little smack. “Brat,” he teased.

Once at the cinema and waiting in line you savored the smell of fresh buttery popcorn. It was busier than you expected. Then again, there were three showings happening at nearly the same time. So perhaps it wasn’t completely unexpected. Behind you, three younger women, perhaps around college age, talked and giggled amongst themselves. You didn’t think much about it as Harwin went on about something he saw on reddit this morning. He always found interesting–or hilarious–things there.

One of the women–an admittedly stunning blonde–tried to squeeze around Harwin to grab a bag of candy. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in a voice a little too husky, her eyes raking over him a little too obviously. She completely ignored you. “Just trying to grab this right here.” She made a show of getting the candy and you glared at her.

“Oh, uhm, yeah, go for it,” he said to her while stepping out of the way, flashing one of his easy grins.

She returned it–more heatedly–before stepping back in line.

You couldn’t blame her, honestly. Harwin was all big, tall, and dark curls. His brown eyes, perfect teeth, and maintained beard were more than enough to catch the eye of other women. But, really? While you were standing right by him? Turning your attention over your shoulder to look at her, you tilted your head and flashed a tiny smirk. ‘Smooth’, your expression said. ‘Very subtle.’

She made a face and you rolled your eyes.

Looking up to your boyfriend, you leaned against him while you rubbed across his broad back. Your palm glided down until your hand slipped into the back pocket of his perfectly worn blue jeans. He looked at you and smiled softly, lovingly, wrapping one of his brawny arms around you to hold you against him.

There weren't many people inside the screen room when you found your seats. “That girl was totally checking you out,” you said as soon as you both sat down with popcorn and soft drinks. “You should have seen her face!”

He laughed, his hand closest to you sliding under your dress and over your tight-covered thigh. “I was too busy thinking about these to even notice,” he answered lowly, squeezing your soft flesh as if he had a point to prove.

“You sweet talker!” You proclaimed with bright eyes in the low light.

“Shh,” he teased. “It's about to start. Don't want to miss any of it.”

Leaning into him, it was your turn to whisper, “if it's bad I'm leaving, remember?”

His only answer was a firmer squeeze higher on your thigh.

The movie had a promising start. But it didn't take long for it to turn… ridiculous, even for a silly action movie. Harwin seemed into it and you wanted to change his mind. “Hey?” You asked, trying to keep quiet for the sake of the other people watching. “I'm getting bored.”

“A little longer? Maybe you'll like it more soon,” he replied, his touch creeping higher where it’d been glued the whole time.

Unenthused, you agreed. That didn't mean you'd make it easy on him, though. Tracing over his shoulders, you eventually settled your hand at the base of his neck. You gently twirled his curls around your fingers and grazed the tips over his scalp. The nape of his neck. Behind his ear.

“You're a naughty thing, aren't you?” He asked as he leaned into you, tugging at the highest button of your dress until it slipped from his grasp and snapped back against your skin. “Are you truly bored, or are you being a needy girl?”

The low rasp of his voice sent shivers erupting all over your skin. Fuck. You loved it when it got all scratchy like that. There was little–if not anything–you wouldn't do for him if he asked in that tone. “‘M bored,” you answered, coy, your lips brushing against his beard nearest his ear. You squeezed your thighs around his hand as if you had a point to prove.

He groaned softly at that. “We're not even halfway through and you're wanting to give up?”

A smile pursed your lips as you nodded. “Yes.” You pressed your free hand over the thick muscle of his thigh, daring to trace your touch up along the inside of it. Higher. You could feel him hardening, there.

It was a good thing the movie was loud, because the noise that came out of Harwin would have likely turned a head or two. “Get up,” he growled.

You feigned innocence and batted your eyelashes at him. He didn’t buy it. He stood and grabbed your hand to pull you away. Neither of you bothered to grab your snacks. He tugged you along, hand tight around yours, as he led you out of the dark theater.

Giggling, you asked, “where are you going?”

He looked both ways down the hallway before trying the handle of a utility closet. It was unlocked. Thank God.

It was bigger than you expected and only had one light with a pull string to turn it on and off–one of the old style bulbs that didn't cast much light. From the outside, no one would be able to tell it was even on. A perfect spot. The walk home might very well turn into a proper foot race. He'd win, most likely. Not only was his stride much longer and stronger than yours, but his cardio was peak too! You'd only win if he played it easy on you. Which, you knew he wouldn't. Not when he was like this. Not when he knew you needed him.

With a flex of his entire body he seamlessly lifted you up and sat you on the storage table. He pushed your dress up high so he could stand between your legs; his favorite place. “My poor desperate little princess. We shouldn’t have even come here, hm? To think we could have stayed at my place with Netflix and much less clothes...” He mocked before his mouth crashed onto yours. Those full lips were so soft, and warm, and demanding as he led the kiss. Sliding tongues, nipping teeth, and a fiery need grew by the moment.

“I always want you,” you whispered hotly between kisses. You were both breathing heavier, now. You fisted the front of his shirt with one hand and tugged on his belt with the other, pulling him into you.

Harwin made a low noise in his throat as you demanded more of him. “The buttons on this thing are insane,” he growled as he began to open them. “And these fucking tights? Oh, shit baby, you even wore one of my favorite bras on these perfect tits.”

The front of your dress was now all the way open, exposing the fullness of your body to him. Your chest rose and fell with your gnawing desire, and your pupils were wide with lust as you curled your fist in his hair. “Keep touching me,” you arched to press against him. “Please,” you begged.

“You just need these big strong hands all over you, don't you?” He asked, palming all over your exposed skin. You felt impossibly soft beneath his tough calluses as they scratched over you in the most delicious way. Those big hands squeezed your covered breasts, slid down your ribs, across your abdomen, until his fingers hooked beneath the waist of your tights. “Lift your ass.”

Tension coiled in your belly and settled like molten between your thighs. You obeyed and gasped when he slid the material down your legs. “God–yes! I love your hands,” you mewled.

“Grabbing you, squeezing you, fucking you,” he whispered by your ear. The feeling of his smirk against your cheek sent excitement jolting through you. “You need to be a good girl and stay quiet. Think you can be my good little girl and do that?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes,” you answered, the single word loaded with wanton hunger.

“That’s my girl. Fuck–I can't believe you're making me do this to you here. If you're too loud and get anyone else's attention I swear to Christ I will stop so fast.”

Two of his fingers pushed past your lips and you didn't need to be told what to do. He groaned appreciatively as you wrapped your mouth around his fingers, sucking and slobbering your tongue all over them. Your half lidded eyes stayed on him the whole time. His were darkened with lust; the set of his brow and jaw already had your toes curling in your boots.

He pulled them free with a wet pop. Without any other warning he pushed the front of your panties to the side and dragged those slobbered pads up your folds. Testing you. Teasing you. A dark laugh rumbled in his throat. “So fucking wet.” One thick digit pushed up into your body making you choke on a cry. “I bet this pussy could take three without even trying right now,” he said as he worked that single finger; curling, pumping, stroking all along your inner walls.

His name left your mouth in a strangled whimper. “More..! Please, please, more.”

A second joined the first and you thought you might explode on the spot. “Shh, shh… feels good, I know. Feels so fucking good. Gotta stay quiet, baby,” he cooed as his wrist flexed all the way up through his forearm. He pumped in and out of you just the way you liked it. As soon as that sweet hidden patch of nerves brushed against his fingers he was relentless.

“Shi–! Yes, yes, yes, fuck–!” You moaned through whimpers. Your hand lowered to wrap around his thick wrist, holding onto him as he fucked you silly on his fingers.

“Gonna come soon, aren't you? Can feel you squeezing around me. I bet your little clit is soo achey,” he rumbled with quiet humor in his umber eyes. Shifting his position, he angled backwards slightly. While staring right where his fingers disappeared in you, he rolled his mouth around a few times, collecting as much saliva as he could into a single useful glob. He spat the spit right onto your clit. His thumb circled the aching bud. He slid over it, again and again, rubbing it up and down, in tandem with his two fingers fucking in and out of you.

Blood pounded behind your ears. It was too much. The coil in your belly snapped and you peaked harshly. Intensely. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and panted your pleasure, using him to muffle the sounds of your orgasm. Your inner walls clenched around him and he slowed until he was able to comfortably pull them out.

“Look at me, little princess.”

Heavy lidded eyes tipped up at him.

He thought you were so beautiful–so perfect–when you were half dazed after orgasms like this. “There you are…,” he muttered, satisfied. “Sweet as you sounded coming all over my hand like that, I know you're not done yet. You need one more before we leave, huh?”

“Yeah. Want to have a hard time walking home.”

“My filthy girl.” Together you opened the front of his belt, then his button and zipper, until his cock sprang free. He didn't even bother pushing them down all the way before he said, “hop down and turn around.”

You did. Excitement thrilled along your spine. Something about the idea of bending over a utility table in a closet at the movies had your cunt clenching around nothing. You two had never done anything quite like this before. Car sex? Yeah. But nothing so public.

Harwin gripped into the soft meat of your hip and spread one of your ass cheeks open, letting him see all of you. “Hold onto the table,” he warned, voice thick and raspy. With your tights still bunched down under your knees, he didn’t have much room to work with. It didn’t matter, though; it was a glorious fucking sight.

Once again you did as told, knowing you'd need the extra support. The tip of his cock pressed against your soaked opening and you bit down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. He was so big, and so hot, and the first spear of his thick cock never failed to take your breath away. He pushed inch after inch into your slick heat, not stopping until he reached the end of you. The hair on his thighs rasped against the smooth underside of your own and you whined in pure bliss. So fucking good.

“You holding on?” He dragged out of you until only his head was inside the tight wrap of your pussy. Then, with a flex of his ass he slammed into you once again. The wet smack of your skin had you gasping. “Better be because I'm not stopping now, sweetling.” His fingertips sunk into your flesh so firm you thought they might leave bruises behind. You didn't care though. Not when he began fucking you exactly how you needed to be used.

“H-Harwin,” you gasped, biting into your arm to muffle any sound that might grow too loud. “Feels s-so good..!” Each time he left you you barely had time to miss him before he drove back into your body. The stretch from his cock was beautifully maddening. Over and over, rutting into you with the perfect pace, pressure, and angle. Soon, his cockhead began to bully over that same patch of nerves his fingers were.

“There it is,” he mumbled close to your ear, grinning, his body weight an addicting pressure atop your back. “Gonna let me fill you up?” He asked sweetly–teeth scraping over your neck harshly.

If you weren't already close that would have sent you right to the edge. “Yes! Come in my pussy! Please fill me up,” you begged in a warbling voice.

His rhythm stayed true and in the next moment bliss overwhelmed all of your senses. A lovely, radiant, weightless sensation tingled through your blood and left you boneless. Behind, Harwin growled low in his chest as his cock throbbed within the tight squeeze of your body. Spurts of his seed unloaded into you until a mess of it slowly oozed out from around his girth; a lovely mess of you and him.

“Oh my god…,” you giggled as he pulled out, spent length beginning to soften. “Is there anything to wipe up with in here?”

Looking around, neither of you saw anything. “Oh come on there has to be something,” he laughed as he begrudgingly took a few steps away. A roll of paper towels finally caught his eye. “Ah-ha! Right here.” He walked to them and took a couple off.

He offered you one and kept one for himself; more at the ready if needed. You stood up and turned around, thankful for it. A second giggle left you as you watched him clean up, too. Luckily neither of your clothes got too dirty.

“Can't believe you made me do that to you here,” he said accusingly.

“I can't believe you actually did it,” you retorted.

“You know I can't deny my girl.”

Both of your clothes were fixed, now, and he gently kissed you. “You are the most perfect thing."

You hummed a sweet noise, floating on his praise, and wrapped your arms around him.

He squeezed you tight before carefully unfolding his arms from around you. Tipping his head to the door, he asked, “shower at my place?”

Lacing your fingers into his own, you nodded with bright eyes. “That sounds amazing!”

As quietly and inconspicuously as you could, you both slunk out of the closet with–perhaps–only the security cameras in the hallway as witness.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

#house of the dragon #harwin strong #modern harwin #harwin x reader #harwin smut #harwin fic #harwin imagine

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mystic-writings · 11 months ago

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tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY – you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs.

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain.

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place.

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history.

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-”

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.”

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.”

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began.

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so.

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends.

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time.

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing.

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you.

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday.

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself.

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music.

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too.

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work.

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers.

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern.

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.”

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.”

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.”

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.”

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.”

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands.

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.”

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?” You nearly gagged on the words.

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.”

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before.

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you.

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it.

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her.

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day.

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did.

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.”

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it.

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?”

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-”

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.”

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.”

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you.

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later.

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you.

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

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#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot angst #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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hurpdurpburps · 4 months ago

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Astoria: Fate's Kiss Is Getting Re-released On 25 July, Here Are Some Things You Should Keep In Mind

Most people don't know it (until now I guess), but I'm the founder of, and have been running the @ls-salvation-squad project since Christmas 2021. I hardly interact with the LS community outside of the project server in a personal capacity as I've largely left the fandom around 6 months before the announcement of the app's closure.

I was pretty late to the game (pun intended), having only learnt about the app in 2020, but managed to be around for 'milestone events' such as the writers' strike and the DMCA rampage on YouTube/tumblr. Thanks to certain friends and technology, I've also had privileged access to a quasi-'insider look' into Voltage's workings (and failings) as a studio, both in real time and through secondhand horror stories of the past.

This culmination of experiences has spurred me to make my first, and last, personal opinion piece regarding LS on tumblr, a corner of the community that I haven't really interacted much with.

While I understand the sheer joy, relief and excitement that comes with revived, legal access to some of the most impressive, unapologetically queer stories to have ever graced the internet, I want to point out the ugly truths that are intertwined with the revival of this troubled app:

Buying the game =/= supporting the creators. Not a cent of your money goes towards them. Even when Voltage USA used to be a thing, barely any of it went towards the employees in general either. The writers were paid 3 cents/word, and producers were working twice as hard but only paid around half of their counterparts in other companies. AFAIK the artists have kept quiet but it would be more of a surprise if they were treated any better than their peers.

Buying the game =/= supporting queer content/community. This might come as a shocker, but homophobia ran rampant within Voltage's management. The best evidence of this can be found in their history of 'peculiar' business or creative decisions - and they've made a fuckton of bad choices. Fun fact; the first queer routes were only made possible via sheer force of will of a particular producer. I'm not at liberty to share the nitty gritty on this public platform as the stories aren't mine, but maybe if you asked some of the former staff nicely, they might give you cryptic hints.

You're gonna be paying them a THIRD time. Many of us have already shelled out hundreds of dollars on heart choices - not once, but twice. Putting the whole version on Steam/Switch had always been a valid option from the beginning of the end, but they chose not to do it. Why? Because users scrambling to make bulk purchases of tickets and hearts to record routes as a last hurrah meant a last, fat cash-in. Not to mention the fact that they're selling the game at US$30 per series, for almost decade-old content, presumably without any new additions. At this point, throwing your hard earned money at them AGAIN is just rewarding scummy management and unscrupulous business models.

Do you really need to? Our team of around 100 archivists worked tirelessly in Q1 of 2022 to provide you high quality recordings of every single route. We've gone so far as to acquire recordings of pre-LS Voltage content such as Queen's Gambit and all of the soundtracks. We've put assets up for download. There are a dozen passionate creators out there who have been updating their Ren'Py recreations so that you can scratch your itch - and all for free!!! What more could you possible want or need that only the greedy bastards at Voltage can give you - apart from seeing your custom MC name on the screen and the absolutely inconsequential choices B & C that our videos didn't cover?

Is this a call for a boycott? I guess not really, or at least I didn't consciously set out to make it like this. Dissuading others from purchasing legal access to media when it's easily available goes against my general principle about responsibly and pragmatically supporting creators. And as one 'em Gays™, I know the preciousness of possessing Queer Stories Written By Queer People.

But I was concerned at what seemed to be a wave of happiness and eagerness at news of the revival, without any mention of the absolute shit show that has led us to this very point. There's a very big part of me that's absolutely pissed at being taken for a ride. News of the revival has been a bittersweet development for us all, especially those who have poured their time, money and energy over the past 2.5 years into salvaging what was thought to be a lost piece of queer media - only to find out that all that effort might only get them a slap to the face in the form of a DMCA from the grave. So yeah, fuck you Voltage.

TLDR: You should really save your money for more ethical, indie developers who have the decency to not mock your consumer intelligence. I don't think it's a crime against humanity if you end up buying it after all, but just think about it yeah?

#lovestruck voltage

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theofaluvsviolet · 5 months ago

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Miquella’s Character arc

There is a fuss going on after the dlc release about Miquella so I am here to say my own thoughts and opinions on this. YES, Miquella ended up being manipulative and he didn’t do the best things to achieve his goals no matter his good intentions. But that was not always the case…

Miquella’s beginning, as we see in the Haligtree, gave hopes and possibilities for a better world. He did care for his sister and did care for the unwanted. After he abandoned the golden order fundamentalism he still worked hard to cure his sister. Thinking he could achieve his goals by remaining an incomplete god and essentially a child though, didn’t work.

If you think about it, every Demigod that ever ascended to godhood or anything related to gaining power (Rykard, Godrick, Malenia etc) drove them all out of their last parts of sanity, their sense of justice and compassion. A common thing we see is that, the demigods begun as rebellions against the golden order and then to make their goals reality they ascended into gods, in a maddening state. This is what happens to Miquella in the dlc and you, save him from this fate…

By leaving behind his body parts and especially St. Trina, Miquella left behind everything that was keeping him a good person and a person willing to truly change the world. He even abandoned the Haligtree and his sister in order to ascend. He moved to horrific deeds and decisions in order to succeed his ascension to godhood, and if you think about some other demigods, or Marika herself, it’s a non escaping end.

If in the beginning, wished for a better world he wouldn’t even think of his “non free will age” he then realized that to fix this world it’s going to be needed more than mere compassion. And by realizing that he abandons every doubt, every kindness, every unconditional love to his ascension. His ability to gain love from others and to aspire a world of it turned into manipulation.

When you, the tarnished follow his footsteps you essentially follow his broken parts, all parts of his fears to follow this path. And then St. Trina, all that’s left from his kindness, tells you to kill him in order to protect him and save him from this fate of corruption that his mother too had.

St. Trina tells you to kill Miquella and not let the poor thing become a god. This is what she meant. She meant to save him from this fate of becoming a god. He left behind his pieces of all unconditional kindness. By killing him, you save him from this fate. Maybe you, even save his kindness alive in any way you wish.

• Were his actions in the DLC wrong? YES

• Were his intentions good? YES

• Did he manipulate? YES in the end

• Did he truly have care for others? YES, in the beginning

Would I choose his age of compassion? No it still doesn’t add up to me but, in my eyes Miquella is not that evil master villain that others portray. His character development is much more complex than the definition of “good” or “evil”. Essentially he begun as a promising and carrying character and ended up as a naive tragic manipulator.

Now shoutout to the other topic today.

Miquella and Mohg

• Did Mohg kidnap Miquella on his own will? YES

• Was he enchanted by Miquella? YES

• Did Miquella have any plans with him? YES, but NOT before he took him.

So, even if in the dlc we know that Miquella charmed Mohg, we are also clued that, Mohg actually had his own plans and ambitions with him. Miquella would never think to involve Mohg in his plans, not after he realises that he turned useful. It just doesn’t make any sense. But that doesn’t mean that Mohg was not charmed, LATER

The first plan of Miquella, was to wait inside his cocoon inside the Haligtree and be born again as a new god. But we know that Mohg, while Malenia was against Radahn, still abducted Miquella from inside his cocoon.

“ Wishing to raise Miquella to full godhood, Mohg wished to become his consort, taking the role of monarch. But no matter how much of his bloody bedchamber he tried to share, he received no response from the young Empyrean “

“Render up your offerings of blood to your Lord. Drench my consort's chamber. Slake his cocoon's thirst. His awakening shall herald the dawn of our dynasty”

This concludes to the fact that indeed, Mohg tried to share his bedchamber with Miquella and indeed wished to build a new dynasty with him as his consort.

And while we know that Miquella charmed him in order to achieve his entrance to the Land of Shadow, there is no explanation on why would he charm him to take him out of his cocoon which he was trying to succeed something in. He still had faith in the Haligtree and he decided to abandon it later.

But I am pretty sure that Miquella departed his spirit from body, so he probably wanted Mohg to stop his blood rituals on him. This is probably why he charmed him. He wanted him to stop and used his power to make him act on his own plans. I believe that the charm came after the abduction when he realised this ritual will not grant him his wishes.

What Ansbach said about him trying to undo Miquella’s charm, Mohg must’ve been already charmed at this point. Ansbach would not like his lord to be enchanted in any way, no matter what Miquella made him do.

Miquella decided to take Mohg’s body way after he was killed. He lost all of his kindness and compassion at this point.

#elden ring #miquella #miquella the unalloyed #mohg lord of blood #elden ring mohg #malenia the severed #elden ring malenia #elden ring miquella #miquella the kind #malenia blade of miquella

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sapphic-agent · 8 months ago

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"Stop using Yangchen for your shitty argument."

So, I was browsing the anti Aang tag around a week ago I think and I came upon a post that displayed frustration for people who condemn Aang not wanting to kill Ozai. I'm not 100% sure that this was targeted at my post specifically, but as I did use Yangchen, I do want to clarify how I interpret her words as well as the other past lives' advice and Aang's reaction.

(Here's my first post if you haven't read it: https://www.tumblr.com/sapphic-agent/745211292168732672/lets-talk-about-how-book-3-ruined-aang?source=share)

This person's main argument centered around how the previous Avatars never actually told Aang to kill Ozai. That their words were for him to interpret. And I actually agree. One of my central arguments was that this was a choice Aang had to make.

The thing is though, Aang himself absolutely interpreted their messages as him having to kill Ozai. That's why he gets so frustrated ("I knew I shouldn't have asked Kyoshi") and keeps cycling through them until he gets the answer he wants. Let's go through exactly what they all said to him.

Roku: If I had been more decisive and acted sooner, I could have stopped Sozin and stopped the war before it started. I offer you this wisdom, Aang, you must be decisive.

Roku tells Aang to be decisive. Which means he's urging Aang to make a decision. And this is perfectly in-line with what I said previously. He has to be able to make a choice between his morals/beliefs and his responsibility as the Avatar, as Roku failed to choose between his attachment to Sozin and his responsibility as the Avatar. That's what Roku's saying and that's exactly how Aang understands it.

Kyoshi: Personally, I don't really see the difference, but I assure you, I would have done whatever it took to stop Chin. I offer you this wisdom, Aang, only justice will bring peace.

Kyoshi's advice actually makes it less about Aang and more about Ozai. He needs to face justice so that the world can know peace. She, like Roku, does not say kill Ozai, she says bring him to justice. Aang's later actions are actually very much in-line with that. He does bring Ozai to justice through his own means. But again, that's not how Aang interpreted her advice. He takes it to mean do what she did, which is why he's salty about it after she disappears.

Kuruk: If I had been more attentive and more active, I could've saved her. Aang, you must actively shape your own destiny and the destiny of the world.

Again, Kuruk's words imply murder even less than Kyoshi's. He tells Aang to be active, to embrace his responsibility to the world and its fate as the Avatar. This is something Aang has struggled with since the beginning of the show so it makes sense that Kuruk would say this. But again, Aang takes it as something he doesn't want to hear. He either thinks that Kuruk is implying that he has to kill Ozai or that he thinks Kuruk is saying to be more active as the Avatar (if it's the latter, that makes Aang look worse because it's advice he's still unhappy with).

(I'd also like to add that Aang isn't looking for alternatives from his past lives. Or at least, he isn't just looking for alternatives. He's looking for one of them to validate him not wanting to kill Ozai and offer advice based on that. Which is why he says, "Maybe an Air Nomad Avatar will understand where I'm coming from." So them not giving him alternatives is not why he's upset)

Yangchen: Many great and wise Air Nomads have detached themselves and achieved spiritual enlightenment, but the Avatar can never do it. Because your sole duty is to the world. Here is my wisdom for you. Selfless duty calls you to sacrifice your own spiritual needs, and do whatever it takes to protect the world.

Out of everyone, Yangchen is probably the closest one to telling Aang he has to kill Ozai. She directly tells him that he has to sacrifice his spiritual needs, which heavily implies that she means go against what the monks taught him and end Ozai for the sake of the world. And that's absolutely how Aang understands it. He even says out loud, "I guess I don't have a choice, Momo. I have to kill the Fire Lord."

So yes, I 100% agree that their advice was up to Aang's interpretation. But what this person- and Aang stans in general- seemed to miss is that Aang himself interpreted their advice as him having to kill Ozai.

Now, does he have to follow their advice? Absolutely not. In Yangchen's words from the Kyoshi novels, "You could spend a thousand years talking to us and you still wouldn't know how best to guide the world." Their advice is just that, advice. Their words aren't law and shouldn't be regarded as such (especially not Roku's, he's consistently given terrible advice/direction).

Hell, in my original post I said I didn't think he had to kill Ozai. Just that he should have had to make the choice between his beliefs and responsibility and face the consequences of that choice. The only reason I brought up the past Avatars at all is because I was pointing out that he refused to accept answers (not just from them, but also from the Gaang) he didn't want to hear. And when he finally did accept it, he was immediately spared from having to make the choice by the Lion Turtle

#aang critical #anti aang #tagging just in case #it's even less anti aang than the first one #avatar yangchen #avatar kuruk #avatar kyoshi #avatar roku

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

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Run To The Water, Lucifer

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader (more OC, but no specific appearances/names/pronouns are mentioned!)

Fluff, reunion, lore-heavy

Word count: 3826

Tw: mention of injuries, constant lower back pain (because I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this), some a la Prometheus eternal punishment thing. Mutual longing, God is an asshole. I think I swore maybe two times? Again - more OC than reader, but not entirely so idk. Not proofread.

Summary: Before mankind, there were angels and there was you. But unlike the angels, you weren’t created by God’s hands, and he loathed you for it. He used you as an inspiration for humans before trying to get rid of you. Now, years later, your favourite angel is running free again. And he comes to seek you out.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

Oh, desert speak to my heart. Oh, woman of the earth. Maker of children who weep for love. Maker of this birth.”

In the beginning, before mankind and capitalism and whatnot, Earth was a simple run ground for god and his angels. They got to run haywire, create things, destroy things, whatever would ‘inspire’ God, as he had put it. He came to create light, life, death - everything. But through everything he had made and everything he had prided himself on, he had never created you. You came into existence long before the humans, from a source no one truly knew. He could have left you there to rot: something that wasn’t his. It was almost an insult. Yet something about you made him give in, caused him to offer you shelter where his angels would be safe.

And as much as he initially hated you, he saw something in him that his angels didn’t show him: inspiration for his greatest creation yet. He kept you close only leaving you around his four most trusted sons when he was away. It never felt like a prison to you.

It didn’t, until Adam and Eve were created.

As they set their first steps on Earth, you were approached by a group of angels, claiming they were there to ‘escort you out’. You had followed them, had it not been for Lucifer, and his distrust towards his siblings. God had seen your purpose fit - you had become his greatest inspiration, mankind; an improved version of you. Or that is what he had believed. You were not his creation, therefore did not deserve to set foot on his land. And after he had realised his greatest invention, it was time to get rid of ‘that which was left’.

“'Til your deepest secrets are known to me, I will not be moved. I will not be moved.”

Lucifer had helped you hide from his father and siblings, making sure you were safe as they scavenged the Earth. For years, this worked. Humans evolved - though slowly - and Lucifer’s temper had begun to grow significantly worse.

It was after only a handful of decades that you were finally found. In his act of cruelty, God made his favourite son execute his ‘dumbest decision’, still unaware of the fact that it had been Lucifer who had kept you hidden all these years. That is when he snapped. He belittled humans, claiming them to be a cheap copy of you - which had held truth in it - and needy. God forgot his first children just to be able to rule his new playthings.

It was that fateful day that had led to his downfall. He was cast down from Heaven, forced to live upon the place that housed the creatures he hated most. He tried to rule Hell for a while, making sure you had still been safe. Even after centuries of humans coming into existence, angels kept looking for you everywhere. And though the search had significantly faded over time, you knew that if you were to announce your presence, they’d try to get rid of you as quickly as they could.

Many had believed you had died in those years. Though not nearly ageing as quickly as humans, you surely couldn’t be immortal. The opposite was proven when the angels landed their attack on Lucifer. It was when you had finally been captured, that Lucifer’s strength slowly began to face, until he was banished to the cage.

Since then, he hadn’t known what had happened to you, nor where you had been. And in his eyes, that had been a worse punishment than being kept in a cage.

“Don't try to find the answer When there ain't no question here. Brother, let your heart be wounded And give no mercy to your fear.”

God couldn’t kill you - the weakling. Instead, he stripped you off all that made you divine, save for your ageing process. You were forced to stay on Earth and live out the rest of your eternal life without a branch of special on you. You were quick to find out God had kept angels in your street, keeping constant vigilance. If you were to even say the wrong thing, he’d know.

It took a long time for you to adjust to simply living on the streets as everyone did. You had to reinvent yourself a ton of times in order to keep up the facade of being a mortal woman. But after a while, you learned to maintain a normal job, pay bills (as God had so horribly intended), make new friends, watch them grow old and happy, then ‘die’ of a sudden cardiac arrest. And the cruellest of it all, was the fact you couldn’t die, even if you wanted to. God would find a way to bring you back.

An eternal punishment for simply existing.

“Adam and Eve live down the street from me. Babylon is every town. It's as crazy as it's ever been. Love's a stranger all around.”

It was late when you returned home from work. One of the cons of turning more mortal was the constant ache in your lower back, and your incapability to heal it. All you really wanted to do when you came home was fall into your bed and not get out for a long time.

The walk home was silent, but what caught you off-guard was the lack of eyes on you. For the first time in decades, you didn’t have the constant feeling of being watched. And it caused an unsettling shiver to run down your spine. Angels weren’t one to give up on their tasks - not without a significant threat. And if it had taken them out, you weren’t safe to begin with.

With a quicker pace, you walked onto your patio, your keys gripped tightly in your hands in case someone would try to sneak up on you. Unlocking the door, you walked in, immediately locking it behind you. A long sigh escaped you when you heard the satisfactory click.

Kicking your shoes off and hanging your coat over a chair, you waltzed towards the couch, falling down onto it with an obnoxious huff. You turned the tv on, staring at the screen blankly, the words not fully registering.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, something told you you were not alone. And though that usually brought a terrifying chill, this seemed somewhat comfortable.

“In a moment we lost our minds here, And lay our spirit down. Today we lived a thousand years. All we have is now.”

You sat upright, now scanning the room more intently. From the corner of your eye, you could see something move in the kitchen, followed by a light amount of noise. Not turning the tv off, you carefully walked towards the source, turning your head around the corner first.

You didn’t recognise the man in the kitchen. You did, however, recognise the faint glow emanating from him. No human held that glow, not unless their body was being used by someone else.

The scrubbing on the jacket halted, and you now noticed the bloodstains on it. You frowned at the sight, then dropped your shoulders as you noticed the small pile of already red-stained towels. When the man turned around, you came face to face with him, and it suddenly began to click why the room had felt so comfortable.

“Lucifer?”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core but not broken.”

“You’re alive,” he breathed, before dropping the towel and walking up to you, pulling you into his figure. You hesitantly returned the embrace, still half in shock of what had just happened. For years, you believed God had killed his son, leaving you alive in terrible mockery, but the opposite was proven now. And in his eyes, he believed you had died as well. He went out on a gut feeling and found exactly what he had been looking for.

When his hands tightened on your back, you finally yielded, vehemently returning the embrace, burying your head in his chest. “You’re alive,” He repeated, one of his hands trailing to your hair, running his hand through it softly, as if frightened that notion would break you.

As you parted, his eyes remained on you, trailing over your figure as if to properly observe you. “You haven’t changed at all,” He muttered, before he took you into his embrace again. “I thought you died,” You managed to whisper, your eyes glued to his wings that had now become apparent.

“The feeling is mutual,” He sighed, keeping you at arm’s length when you heard a car pass by. His eyes trailed to the window, an instant glare building on his face. “We need to get out of here. Don’t worry about the angels,” He spoke in one breath, before looking at you again. “I took care of them.” “I figured,” You nodded, still at loss for words.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. These streets below the moon.”

Outside, you heard car doors open, followed by heavy footsteps, walking towards your porch. “Lucifer,” A gruff voice cut through the tense silence. On the other side of your kitchen stood another person, one you easily recognised as angel. You furrowed your eyes at him in anger, all too familiar with angels and the way they perceived you. You didn’t miss the slight smile on Lucifer’s face as he looked at the angel.

“Too late, little brother.”

And with that, the two of you had left your home, now suddenly in the middle of a forest. You looked around quickly, your stomach churning as the brief travel ended. Your knees buckled underneath you, your hands extending to break your fall. Nausea settled in you as you tried to regain your breath, remaining hunched over. Lucifer observed you from a distance, his hands in his pockets.

“So,” He began, his voice slightly uncomfortable. “You mortal now?” You looked over your shoulder, sparing him a mocking smile: “Consider it your father’s greatest gift.”

His eyebrows raised the words, silently cursing his father for your punishment. “At least he didn’t kill you.” “Bastard couldn’t do it,” You muttered. “Claimed I reminded him too much of you.” “He’s always so sentimental.” Lucifer agreed.

“And I will never leave you, 'Til we can say, this world was just a dream. We were sleepin', now we are awake 'Til we can say.”

When you remained on the floor, your breathing unsteady, the fallen angel walked towards you. He frowned lightly at the sight of your discomfort. “You okay?” A groan came from you as you tried to sit upright, pain shooting through your lower back. “Just peachy.”

Lucifer’s lips formed in a thin line, observing your figure. “Right,” He spoke sarcastically. Then, he reached down, holding his hands on your shoulder. When he didn’t do anything else, you looked at him confused. The angel seemed conflicted, looking at you as if he was expecting you to say or do anything. When you didn’t say anything, he took a step back: “I can’t heal you.”

You sighed at that. Naturally, God decided to screw you over even more. “Curse that asshole,” You mumbled on your breath, before clumsily rising to your feet again. When you stumbled slightly, Lucifer’s hands found your waist quickly, keeping you in place.

“I’m fine.” You objected, even though your hands were now holding onto his lower arms. “Yeah, no.” He deadpanned, keeping you steady. “How the mighty have fallen.” You looked up through your lashes as he spoke those words.

“Don’t remind me.”

“In a moment we lost our minds here And dreamt the world was round. A million miles fall from grace. Thank God we missed the ground.”

He looked down at you for a short second before the scenery changed again. That same nauseating feeling entered your stomach as you fell down on something soft. You groaned in pain, curling up, almost as if trying to protect yourself. For a second, you forgot you were around Heaven’s most wanted, and simply laid down, taking a moment to regain your posture.

“No, this is amazing.” You objected as you sat up, now seeing you had landed in some kind of fancy five-star hotel room. It was then that you noticed you had fallen onto a huge bed, the blankets shifting underneath you. You looked at Lucifer with questioning eyes, not understanding why you were suddenly somewhere else.

“Humans need rest.” He just spoke, sitting on a chair next to the bed. “I’ll be fine.” You disagreed, preparing to get off the bed. Before you could set a foot on the floor, Lucifer shook his head, grabbing a book from seemingly nowhere.

“No, you won’t,” He sighed. “I’ll just wait here, I guess.”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

You simply stared at him. Only minutes ago you were still convinced of his death, well-adjusted to a simple mortal life. And without preparation, he had appeared in your kitchen and whisked you away to who knows where.

You blinked twice at the realisation. You thought he was dead for years. And there he sat, directly in front of you. As if nothing had happened. Noting your eyes still on him, Lucifer looked at you from his seat: “What?” “They told me you died,” You breathed. “I thought I would be the only one left at the end of time.”

He lowered his book upon your words, an unsure expression on his face. You began to grow concerned you might have said the wrong thing. Who knew what he had been through all those years? It mustn't have been easy for him either. “Thought I’d be locked in a cage forever,” He ultimately spoke, halting your concerns. “Had to go through daily torment of mentioning my fall and your death to me.”

Though he spoke in a sarcastic tone, you knew his words were genuine. And as him, you did your best to lighten the situation. You could feel the conflict and pain radiating off of him, but you weren’t going to mention it to him. Not now. Instead, you spoke: “Guess our deaths were a little exaggerated.”

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well, at least there’s still one good thing in this world.” He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words, a heartfelt expression crossing your features. At your face, Lucifer slowly shook his, holding his hands up: “No. Forget I said anything,” Pointing towards your smiling figure, he gave you an accusing look. “That was a moment of weakness.”

You didn’t tease him about it. Perhaps later you would mention it again. For now, you just enjoyed his presence, his stupid remarks something you had missed for a very long time. When your smile finally faded, Lucifer just looked at you, his expression relatively neutral, even though you could feel the fondness in his gaze. Be that as it may, the words he spoke weren’t fond in any way. If anything, they had caught you off-guard.

“I’m gonna burn this place down. Restart the world in my image.” Ah yes, the infamous Apocalypse. Of course, you couldn’t forget about that. It was foretold. If anything, you had an idea the angels were planning something for a while now. They had begun to grow more secretive and silent over the last few months. You first thought they had started losing interest in you, but that had not been the case. They were simply preparing for a rematch with Lucifer.

You couldn’t help but understand his views, especially considering what the both of you had gone through in your history. Though your views hadn’t always been the same, you wanted to be at his side. It was the safest you had ever been, nor would ever be.

“Yeah, I can see it now, Lord Out beyond all the breakin' of waves And the tribulation.”

“What would that be?” You asked, to which Lucifer nonchalantly shrugged. “Less humans, more lightsabers.” Though he seemed fond of that idea, you didn’t laugh at it. “Maybe I’ll just wipe this world off the map. We could run to a remote planet.”

You couldn’t help but remain silent at his words, just staring at him, not sure what to do or say. And he had noticed, an oblivious ‘what’ coming out of his mouth. You blinked twice, forcing yourself back to reality. “I’ve spent lifetimes here now,” You answered, your voice much more gentle than you had intended. “I don’t know, there’s good things here too.”

He raised his eyebrows at your statement, testing your words. “Like what?” You shrugged. “I really like dogs.” “We can keep the dogs.” He quickly added, but so did you: “Music is pleasant.” “I’ll find a way.” He continued, to which you groaned in objection.

“Lucifer, humans aren’t evil.” “They’re a faulty copy of you!” He returned angrily. Not at you, but at his father. For daring to mock you in such a brutal way. For the way he wanted to get rid of you once he copied you to make his own creation. “A cheap replication.” He continued to rant. “I don’t want cheap replications when I can have the real thing.”

“It's a place and the home of ascended souls Who swam out there in love.”

“Thank you,” You whispered, unsure of what to answer, but you knew compliments were hard to come by from him. Even though that was true, you couldn’t help but already feel remorseful for losing the life you had known so well for the last few years. Sure, it had been torture for you, but all good moments came from humanity.

“I know the apocalypse is inevitable,” You tried to persuade, laying back down onto the bed. “But think it over.” With that, you turned around, facing your back to him.

“Think it over?” Lucifer repeated incredulously. “Humans are terrible! Have you not caught up with history of the last few years?” “I’ve lived it.” You called over your shoulder, not mad at him. In fact, you had grown kind of disappointed and sad upon the thought of humanity fading from existence. You knew Lucifer could actually do it if he really put the effort into it. “Humans aren’t inherently evil,” You went on. “If I remember correctly, it were the angels who wanted to kill everything.”

He was silent for a moment. Longer than you were used from him. You started to wonder if he might have left. Surely, he wouldn’t have done that.

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

“And that’s why they’ll go too.” He suddenly spoke, now laying next to you on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You let out of quiet sigh of relief upon his figure, scooting closer to him, but not enough to touch him just yet.

“And live in a world with just the two of us?” You tested. “Wouldn’t that grow…tedious?” You trailed off slightly, knowing you could speak your mind in front of the devil without risking him smiting you. Yet, it felt as if you were cursing him whilst he was directly in front of you.

“Tedious?” He echoed, chuckling as his head turned to face yours, silently assuring you he wasn’t insulted at all. In fact, it had entertained him slightly. You returned his smile, a light feeling entering your stomach upon finally seeing his joy again.

You remained laying there for a second, bathing in the glee of simply having you with him. The feeling seemed mutual, as you watched one of his wings wrap around your figure, pulling you against his body whilst his wing remained draped over you. His arm pulled you into his side, his hand coming to a rest on your side.

His touch was cold, though welcomed. You figured hell must have done a number on him - he had never been cold to touch before.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well,” He started, thinking out loud. “I could take over Heaven. Rule the string puppets from up there.” You placed your hand on his chest in agreement, a smile crossing your features as you pictured the demise of the angels who have taunted you and haunted you for centuries: “I am all for taking Heaven over.”

The angel chuckled at your comment, rubbing your skin in repeating patterns. “I know you are.”

Then, a second silence struck the pair of you, this one more comfortable, void of any tension of disagreement. The breathing of his chest was a soothing notion for you, all nausea from earlier now finally fading away. The ache in your lower back seemed to calm down slightly on the soft mattress. You silently wondered if Lucifer had felt it when he tried to heal you and got you something that would help with it.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He sighed, slight melancholy in the tone of his voice. “No one else will pay attention to me.” “You egocentric bastard,” You joked, getting comfortable in his arms.

“I missed you too, Lucifer.”

“Rest easy baby, rest easy. And recognize it all as light and rainbows, Smashed to smithereens and be happy.”

Perhaps it had been due to the adrenaline wearing off, you finally being in his arms again, or the fact that you simply had a very tiring day, but your eyelids grew heavier with every breath you took. Falling asleep in your earlier surroundings had always been difficult for you: angels were watching your every move. It was hard to feel safe under the gaze of those who swore to kill you not too long ago.

However, for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt safe. The familiar feeling of his heavy wing draped around you and his looming presence seemed to bring some special sense of comfort that you had longed for for so long.

And thus, Lucifer would spend the rest of the night in his new vessel, staring up at the ceiling for hours on end, not moving, just for you to get a healthy amount of sleep. Talking could happen later, and he had all the time in the world. His siblings wouldn’t find him. Not if he didn’t want to be found. And now, he wanted nothing more than to simply be forgotten by them and remain there.

Right there at that exact moment, he felt peace - something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and wouldn’t feel again not much later.

“Run to the water. Run to the water.”

#November writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #lucifer #spn lucifer #lucifer spn #lucifer x reader #spn lucifer x reader

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midnight1199 · 4 months ago

Text

Fated To Meet You

PAIRING: Jake Sully x Reader

WARNINGS: slight!angst, avatar!reader, fem!reader, can't think of any more rn, AU, happy!ending hopefully, not beta read

NOTES: Hello dear readers, this is my first time posting a multichapter fic on any platform so crossing my fingers that I do justice to your expectations. I'm not a native English speaker and English is my second language so please let me know where I can improve my writing skills. Moving on, please enjoy the story!

SUMMARY: The first time you saw him, you felt pity for him—Jake. Maybe that was the spark that would lead to the inferno of feelings you would hold until your last breath on Pandora.

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Uprooting your current life and moving to an entirely different planet for a new beginning came as a surprisingly easy decision for you to make. Your fascination at your grandma’s storytelling of the lush green forests surrounded by trees as tall as the grim concrete skyscrapers, the sounds of life of the various creatures of the forest almost as prominent as the grinding of the metal machinery on Earth was what drew you to sign an application on a piece of paper which basically would sign your life away for the next 18 years to an organization called RDA.

Getting selected for the Avatar program as a xenobotanist was not something you expected. So you spent the next year and a half learning about the native flora and fauna life of the alien moon, Pandora. The week before your team was supposed to board the ISV Venture Star, you came to know of the death of your friend and colleague, Tom Sully. Killed for the few papers in his wallet. That is when you also learn of the RDA’s plans to send Jake, Tommy’s twin brother, in his stead to Pandora to prevent the monetary loss of losing an Avatar driver and subsequently wasting an asset.

You had only met Jake once when Tommy had brought him to the Training camp for a tour, and aside from greeting each other, there had not been any further interaction between you two. So, to say that seeing Tommy’s identical copy roll into the port almost gave you whiplash would be an understatement. Meeting eyes from a distance, you could only nod and wave at him before being hurriedly ushered by the staff toward the med bay for a final checkup before being put into cryosleep.

A dry mouth and blurry eyes were the first things that you noticed before your ears picked up on the med tech staff announcement. “You’ve been in cryo for five years nine months and twenty-two days. You will be hungry; you will be weak. If you feel nausea, please use the…” His voice fades to the background as you float to your assigned locker, you vaguely notice another hand reaching to the locker next to yours. You follow the hand to a familiar face – Jake. Jake barely looks at you before he grabs a bottle of water from his locker and floats away to his assigned seat to prepare to land. “They did not even have the courtesy to rename his locker,” you mumble. You brush a hand over the embossed ‘Sully. T.’. “See you on the other side, friend” you whisper before grabbing your items and floating off to your seat. The entry into the Pandoran atmosphere goes by in a blur. The dystopian dull grey of Hell’s Gate sticks out like a sore thumb between the beauty of the lush greens and emeralds around you.

You are rushed out of the Valkyrie shuttlecraft, breathing mask secured on your head, and the RDA militia screaming at you to hurry along. Carrying your knapsack, you make your way to the mess to watch Colonel Quaritch’s speech in silence. You can’t deny that the man has a flair for dramatics. “You're not in Kansas anymore. You're on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen. Respect that fact every second of every day.” You watch from the corner of your eye as Jake rolls in on his wheelchair, meeting your eyes for a split moment before redirecting his attention to the man’s speech. “If there is a Hell, you might want to go there for some R & R, after a tour on Pandora. Out there beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes. We have an indigenous population of humanoids called the Na'vi. They're fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin that'll stop your heart in one minute. And they have bones reinforced with naturally occurring carbon fiber. They are very hard to kill. As head of security, it is my job to keep you alive.” He glances around. “I will not succeed. Not with all of you. If you wish to survive, you need to cultivate a strong, mental attitude. You got to obey the rules: Pandora rules!”

You zone out as the man starts listing the rules you needed to obey. You wonder if the others standing in the room with you realize the hypocrisy of the Colonel’s speech. Reading between the man’s words was easy and the message was clear – Kill or be killed. The RDA was expecting you to follow their orders without question and you would be damned before you let a few military goons browbeat you into submission.

Post briefing, you head out towards the labs as instructed. “Jake!” A loud shout rang through the hallway. Norm Spellman, a fellow Avatar Driver, rushed past you towards a clearly taken aback Jake. Internally sighing, you quickened your pace to catch up with both of them, wincing slightly at hearing the end of Norm’s introduction, “…Wow! You look just like him. I’m-” “Norm Spellman”, you cut in, “and I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Jake. We went through Avatar Training with Tom.”

“Yeah, he mentioned your names—both, uh, both your names. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Why don’t we explore a bit? Check out our Avatars?”, smiling you nudge Norm to walk ahead. He petulantly calls you a bully but ambles on ahead. Snickering, you head behind Jake and push his wheelchair ahead. “Hey, I’m sorry about Norm. He’s a bit awkward with introductions, subtlety isn’t his strong suit”, grimacing slightly you continue, “the guy is all brains and no grace but he’s good at heart…”. Jake shrugs and glances back at you. “It’s alright, no harm done.”

Following Norm, you find yourselves in the bio-lab. “That’s your avatar right there.” You point Jake towards an incubated blue form in a large blue tube-like structure. A similar female figure in another tube grabs your attention and you head towards it. Your Avatar looks exactly like you except leaner, taller, and very very blue. She’s curled up in a fetal position, twitching occasionally, as if dreaming. You press a hand on the glass. This was what your training had led you to. A step away from your dreams. A step away from Grandma’s stories.

The meeting with Grace had gone as one would expect an open can of milk sitting in the most humid part of the house for a week to smell, that is to say, bad—Grace Augustine; xenobotanist, xenoanthropologist, and Head of the Avatar Program on Pandora. You had known of Grace through her books on the Pandoran flora, so when Dr. Patel—a scientist for the Avatar Program—introduces you to Grace, you’re sure you’re about to faint.

“Grace, I’d like you to meet Norm Spellman, Y/N, and Jake Sully.”

The woman turns around, puffing the cigarette smoke out, and walks towards you. “Norm, I hear good things about you. How’s your Na’vi?” “Awvea ultxari ohengeyä, Nawma Sa'nok lrrtok siveiyi”, the man responds. You and Jake watch as they continue conversing, with you catching bits and pieces of the conversation. Admittedly, your year and a half of training did not center around the necessity of learning the language. You’re still better off than Jake, who you see is lost and zoning out.

“Uh, Grace? This is Y/N”, Dr. Patel adds pointing at you, “and Jake”. You step forward to shake hands with the older woman, “Ma’am. It is an honor to work with you! Your books on Pandoran botany were the materials we used at the Academy.” You lean in closer and continue, “I can’t wait to explore in person!” Grace nods once and drops your hand. Your smile drops along with that clear dismissal. She turns to Jake and you see him move to offer his hand. “Ma’am-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother”, she turns to Dr. Patel, “You know, the PhD who trained for three years for this mission-”

“He’s dead.” Jake lowers his arm, “I know it’s a big inconvenience for everyone.”

Grace stays silent as she stares back at Jake. You want to step in before the conversation escalates but are too nervous to slice through the mounting tension. The silence lingers between the five of you before it is broken by a furious Grace storming off. Your shoulders slump, all tension leaking out before exhaustion hits you. The emotional rollercoaster of the day completely drained the energy out of you.

Dr. Patel sighs and turns towards Jake, “Here tomorrow, 0800. Try and use bigwords.”

He leaves you staring after him as he follows after Grace. “That went well…”, you hear Norm mutter. “Let’s just head to the dorm, guys”, you say as you move towards the said dorms, “and don’t forget to video log your experience. Don’t need the Wicked Witch of the West on our asses for that.” Jake and you share a laugh while Norm huffs and stomps his way toward the dorms. You turn to follow after him but a hand grabbing your arm stops you. “I saw you trying to step in y’know, earlier”, Jake murmurs, “Thanks for caring about Tommy, he had a good friend in you.” It’s the complete exhaustion and defeat in his voice that makes your heart pang with grief. A week—that was all RDA had given to the man before you to grieve his dead brother. His dead twin brother, someone whom he had once shared a womb with. You smile softly at Jake and take his hand in yours. “I didn’t do it for Tommy”, squeezing his hand you continue, “I did it for you, Marine. Figured somebody needed to give you a break.” A hurried staff rushing past you snaps you out of the moment and you clear your throat while pulling your hand away from Jake’s.

“Let’s head to the dorms, shall we?”, without waiting for a reply you hurry ahead. Jake following after you after a short moment of silence.

#jake sully x reader #avatar x reader #jake sully #female reader #fem!reader #avatar!reader #human!reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fanfic #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar fanfiction #alternate universe

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