#she actually did i was there i was the cloud

[junezsq]

nice to meet ya

harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: your first day after transferring to hogwarts is up to a good start when a certain black haired boy can't stop staring at you

warnings: none really? maybe first day nerves, does this count? lol

word count: 1.3k

a/n: maturing means realising harry is underrated in his own series. i was genuinely shocked by how few harry fics there are so decided to take matters into my own hands. here's the beginning to a whirlwind of a love story, enjoy! x

── ᵎᵎ ✦

before daring to enter the great hall of hogwarts for the first time you took a moment to observe the scene playing out in front of you. the grandeur of it all was slightly overwhelming — the enchanted ceiling stretching above like a sky full of clouds, the long tables brimming with students, and the shimmering candles floating in mid-air. a weird mix of excitement and nervousness started swirling around in your stomach.

starting as a third-year transfer, you were aware that the curious glances from some students, the quiet whispers of “new girl,” and the subtle judgment that often accompanies a fresh face were bound to follow you for the upcoming days — maybe even weeks. despite this, the warmth of the hall was undeniable. the voices of fellow students, the laughter, and clinking of cutlery, almost made it feel like home — even if it was a place you'd only just arrived at.

there was something magical about the space, something comforting, like a promise that this would soon be your place, too. the smells of the breakfast feast filled your senses, making your stomach growl.

you glanced down at the crimson and gold fabric of your tie, signifying the house you were sorted in only a moment earlier. your fingers brushed over the edges of the tie as you took a deep breath, feeling uncertainty rise, but you knew that if you'd linger too long, you would only feel more out of place.

with a quiet sigh, you tucked your hair behind your ears. you glanced at the gryffindor table, and after a brief hesitation you took the first step towards your future.

seated somewhere in the middle of the gryffindor table, harry, hermione, and ron were in the midst of their breakfast; the table was littered with plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon.

ron, toast in hand, glanced up from his plate, it was then that he noticed you walking through the massive doors leading to the great hall. "isn't that the new girl?" he asked through a mouthful of food, "i heard she just arrived this morning."

hermione, who was sat across the red haired, looked up in curiosity. “she’s a transfer, i think." she murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "i believe she used to go to beauxbatons."

ron tilted his head, watching you intently as you adjusted your tie. “do you think she’s... i dunno, nervous?” he asked. “this place is massive. i’d be proper lost if i was new here.” he glanced at harry, "i mean, we actually did get lost, remember, first year?"

harry, who was sat next to hermione and had been quietly eating, glanced at you as well. his eyes followed your movement as you slowly walked along the gryffindor table — obviously trying to find an empty spot — and his empathy kicked in with a brief tug of understanding. “it’s probably hard, starting a new school in the middle of the year,” he said quietly. “i wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

ron sighed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “i know i wouldn’t. wonder if she’s looking for somewhere to sit... we could—”

“ron, don’t be daft,” hermione cut in gently, though there was a kind smile on her face. “she’ll find her way. besides, she might not want to sit with us just yet.”

the red haired grumbled but nodded in agreement, and while he returned to their breakfast, harry couldn’t help but keep a sidelong glance on you, curious about what your story was.

as you made your way along the great hall, you felt the weight of a pair of eyes on you. when you looked around, trying to find who they belonged to, your own eventually fell on the boy with messy jet-black hair. you could sense the quiet curiosity in his look, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long before flicking away.

your heart beat a little faster, and with a deep breath, you made a decision. instead of shying away, you slightly fastened your pace towards where they were sat.

meanwhile, across the hall, ron’s voice rang out loud enough for hermione and harry to hear, not having noticed you were now heading in their direction. “so, what d’you reckon happened with her sorting? she's in gryffindor judging by her tie.” he asked, taking a dramatic bite of a sausage.

hermione shot him a slightly exasperated look. “ron, you’re not still on about that, are you?”

ron, however, was already getting into his own theories, grinning widely. “what, i’m just saying! i bet the hat had a real hard time deciding where to put her. probably because she's already got a few years of school experience. it’s got to be tough.”

harry, still a little distracted by you, especially since you were now making your way toward them, gave his friend an absent minded nod.

ron continued, oblivious to harry’s distracted expression. “maybe it was, like, really close between gryffindor and slytherin. could you imagine? the sorting hat probably tried to put her in slytherin first, but she was like, ‘no way! no way am i going there.’ which i completely understand, by the way.”

hermione raised an eyebrow. “really, ron?”

ron leaned in slightly closer, “or maybe,” he said dramatically, “the sorting hat was just so impressed with her bravery that it just had to put her in gryffindor. It could’ve been like, ‘you’ve got the guts to stand up for yourself — gryffindor it is!’” he looked up at hermione, beaming as though he’d cracked the case.

at that moment, you had reached their table. ron looked up, finding hermione with her lips pressed together — as if she was trying to hold in her laughter — and harry whose focus had shifted to somewhere behind him. with his mouth still half full of food, ron's eyes widened in realization. “oh — she’s behind me isn't she?” he muttered to the others, a little stunned by how quickly the conversation had shifted from theory to reality.

"surprise." you gave a small, somewhat shy smile. “this is the gryffindor table, right?” you asked, your voice quiet but clear.

ron, still a little flustered, blinked at you, momentarily forgetting his elaborate sorting tale. “oh, yeah! yeah, it is. you’re the new girl, right?”

hermione gave ron a harsh glance before looking up at you, her expression suddenly kind, “you can sit with us,” she said warmly. “we’re all in gryffindor. i’m hermione, by the way.”

you were slightly taken aback at her kindness, but sat down next to ron either way. hermione motioned to her two friends, "this is harry, and ron."

"nice to meet you." you spoke softly, glancing at ron before letting your eyes fall on harry. the pair of eyes that had followed you earlier still had a sense of curiosity to them, and you couldn't help but stare at him as a small smile formed on his lips, "nice to meet you, too."

ron spoke with a grin, causing you to snap your attention away from the boy in front of you, “don’t mind my stories about the sorting hat. i tend to make them up as i go along.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, "you weren't too wrong, it told me it could sense my bravery the moment i stepped into dumbledore's office." you shrugged, grabbing a strawberry, "whatever that's supposed to mean?"

a mischievous grin crept upon your lips as ron looked at you with wide eyes. the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease just a little. maybe hogwarts wasn’t going to be so intimidating after all.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SOUNDTRACK // nice to meet ya, niall horan

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fool's Game 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Loki and Bugsy.

Summary: strangers on a train aren't as strange as they seem.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The train is crowded. That's not unexpected. There are few occasions in life that truly surprise Loki. That day is just a milquetoast as any other. All but one thing. One person.

He sits across from her. She never notices him. Her eyes do not leave the screen of her console. He's not one for the habit. The glare hurts his eyes and often triggers a migraine. No games, no phone but if absolutely necessary, and no distractions.

She's so oblivious he doesn't even need to hide behind the book. Well, it helps elude the curiosity of others who might notice his fleeting gaze.

The first time she sat across from him, he was not impressed. Irked would be more apt. She flew in like a storm and fell into the seat so hard she nearly bounced right out of it. He watched her charge fall from her bag, there, right by the polished toe of his shoe. At first he did not reach for it, yet when she took no heed, he gave in. His mother's voice would not quiet until he retrieved it.

The headset with the bunny ears kept her from hearing him. At least, he would accept only that as an excuse. He's a proper gentleman and she would not ignore him deliberately. He left it on the small lap table extended from her armrest as she did not see his efforts to get her attention. He wasn't going to try any harder.

That day, her brows draw together and her forehead lines. He can't see all of her but she lets out little breaths in her frustration. She squirms and plants her feet, as if that will help her in her game. She tilts the console this way and that then drops it to her lap. She huffs in defeat. He sees the image on her screen; two lethal red words: You Died.

His eyes slowly crawl up and meet hers. She blanches and quickly hides again. He does the same. The words are not legible as his mind races.

He does not lower the book again until he hears her puffing once more in her quest. He peeks at her. She has the wire of the headset between her lips as he rests her elbows on the armrests and hunches over. He can see her figure thrashing around but not much else as the colours on the screen are skewed. She jams her thumbs on the sticks and buttons then a flash and once more, the end screen. She pouts and throws herself back against the seat. She closes her eyes and doesn't move as a dark cloud swallows the image on the console.

The tension slowly eases and her mouth slants from one side to the other. She chews her cheeks and dips her chin down. She opens her eyes and holds down the button to shut off the system. She carefully zips it away in the fuzzy case and stuffs it into her larger bag. Another piece decorated with bunnies. They must be a favourite.

She brings the knapsack into her lap and hugs it. She looks out the window and her expression strains again. She doesn't dare look anywhere but outside, away from the people, away from him.

He supposes that's why he didn't take their first meeting personally. When she was asked coffee or tea by the lady with the cart, she couldn't speak. She merely shook her head with panic in her precious eyes. He knew then why she did not see him. Well, she needn't fear, he was not out to hurt her and he would make sure no other did as well.

🐇

He stands on the platform. Not far from her but not close enough to draw detection. It's an art being unseen but fortunately he's had a lifetime of practice. His brother, his sister, both always drew all the praise, all the purpose. He was just him. Just there.

She stands with shoulders slumped. She has her hood up. Her jacket also has floppy ears and the fleece looks more fit for a stuffed toy. She sways anxiously as she stands near the thick yellow caution line at the front.

The train whines down the tracks but she doesn't seem to notice. She's distracted but he can't tell by what. She's usually the first on but several pass her by before she reacts to the locomotive's arrival.

As she goes to step up, her toe hits the edge and she falls forward. He's moving before he can stop himself. He grabs her elbow and draws her to her feet as she sniffles.

She trembles and he squeezes before he thinks to let her go. She looks down at his long fingers but doesn't have the courage to look him in the face. She wipes her nose.

"Thank you," she murmurs and turns to climb up again, this time keeping her footing.

She's crying. He usually is annoyed by others showing such dire emotion. It's often misplaced. But not with her. His chest pangs. Something's happened. Someone's hurt her when he vowed that no one would.

He follows her up. She sits in 13a and he sits in 13c. Where they always do. She does not unzip her bag or take out her console. She picks at the edges of her nail beds and keeps her head down.

She gulps and her shoulders shake. His balls his fists. He wants to know the cad who's done this!

His heart races. He can't reveal himself. Not yet. Even if she is upset. She's not ready. No, he isn't. He hasn't thought of how.

Well, it's all a fool's dream. He's not serious, is he? She's just a stranger. Even if he knows her name. And where she lives. And where she works. That's all happenstance. It's not anything much deeper than that.

She leans into the window, embracing the bag like a dear friend. He can't see under her slouching hood. The food cart rolls around. He's about to wave the woman on then thinks better of it. The evening train is usually much sparser. He pays for a shortbread cookie. He takes it and turns it in his hands so the wrapper crinkles. She doesn't move.

He leans forward slowly, gauging her reaction. She still doesn't shift an inch. Closer and closer. He tucks the cookie into the front pocket of her bag. Still not a single flinch. She won't know until later but he hope it can bring her the comfort he's too shy to offer. He'll sort it out eventually. Just not today.

[missmargomuse616]

" mm hmm I remember you telling me about that earlier and it's really a believable story. I'm not so sure what I saw but I know most magicians aren't that good.. well I have seen my share when I used go to magic shows." Margo replied honestly. Maybe it was the drinks that was starting to have an effect or also her having less filter because of it. Tho she tried not to be so pushy. " I think there is more to you and your brother than meets the eye. Or I'm just an overly nosey person by nature, guess it's one of the reasons I become a journalist."

Margo smiles at Luka when she suggested she take one of their beds to sleep in. " aww thank you Luka really appreciate you." She said while wondering if this was a good idea. The woman so far trusted Luka after spending some time with her and her brother Luke seems decent as well. It could've been worse, if she were here alone going home drunk with a random man.. just thinking about that made her shudder.

Margo let out a few chuckles when Luka came near her again to touch her skin, why was her hand so cool to the touch? As her thought came to her mind. " Yeah um.. actually I don't act this way. If I had more than two drinks than possibly." She answered truthfully as she still felt pretty warm and her head was like it was on cloud nine " I think I did have four maybe five drinks so I totally take the blame.. I'm a bad girl." She said while she gave the other woman a wink.

" Oh okay I see." Margo replied clearly fasnatied by the other woman's story. Her life and past experiences was largely different while margo and her stepbrother grew up only being used to the nest public schools and education. Slowly shaking her head at those dew awkward moments of her young life. " Yeah traditional schools where I went had it's flaws. Tho I was used it and kept out of trouble.. well for the most part. I kind of had a rebellious side back then too" she smiles kindly at the mention of her mother. " your mother sounds amazing and incredibly smart."

Margo gave her a playful tap to her arm, " Well I think you are something special, out of this world even. I seen the way you picked up that guy,using your green magic." She leans close to the woman's ear" don't worry your secret safe with me" Margo said teasingly.her playfulness in full swing.

" I could totally sleep on your couch once we get to your place, really I don't want to intrud I really. " She said as she starts fanning her face again with her hand. Moving her hair off her neck. " damn it's so hot in here, is it hot in here or is it just me?"

She gave luka a smirk when she shook her head yes. " yes I'm very sure and don't worry I may be drunk.. now but I'm still able to have a bit more fun tonight."

[kasagia]

Tell me it's you...

Pairing: young!Aleksander "Eric" Morozova/Darkling x fem!heartrender! reader Summary: The legendary Darkling saves your life from the Drüskells. You tell your friend Eric about this, but he advises you against seeking the Shadow Summoner. You don't listen to him. And you find him closer than you dared to think he was. Now you beg him to stay with you. Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist Oneshot inspired by: "Tell me it's you" from Mufasa... yeah, I just couldn't leave that song. I never thought The Lion King would inspire me to write a oneshot for Darkling... Hope you enjoy it! Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat

"It was... like something out of an adventure novel. I'm telling you, Eric, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Suddenly, shadows appeared; I couldn't see practically anything, and then they cut Drüskells in half. I... I've never seen such power. In anyone. Ever." You tell your friend in shock, half-sitting, half-lying on his bed as he bustles around you, tending to your wounds.

"You may have imagined it. No one has seen the Darkling or any of his ancestors in centuries. Shadow Summoners are freaks of nature. The fact that they are virtually nonexistent shows that they shouldn't exist." The dark-haired man replies dismissively.

You grab his hand as he's about to apply gauze soaked in the medicinal plant dimension to your cut brow and give him an offended look.

"No, Eric, I know what I saw. Maybe not exactly; maybe I didn't really see him, but it was definitely a Shadow Summoner. As when the king's men were pursuing us and we were hidden from their view by a cloud of shadow. The fact that there are few of them proves how powerful they are. Not everyone is meant to wield such responsibility on their arms. To be a saviour." You say and let go of his hand.

"You speak too highly of him. He's probably a power-hungry maniac, a heretic, not some Grisha saviour."

"I know it's him. I'm sure of it. Just as I know it's him and only the Shadow Summoner who can stop this hunt for us. We have to find him. Maybe you don't feel it, but I do. Without him... without him we have no reason to even try to fight the Tsar, Fjerda, Shu Han, and Ravka for our freedom."

Eric sighs and shakes his head in disbelief at your stubbornness. But he doesn't have time to respond to you, because suddenly his mother enters their one-room, small cottage.

He pulls away from you and gives his mother a warning look. You only stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him because the older woman walks straight to you, ignoring her son.

"The whole village is gossiping that they saw my son bring you unconscious and bloody to our hut. What happened to you, little heartreder? Did you use your powers on yourself?"

She nods at the young healer in the doorway while examining you. And if you didn't know her better, you'd almost believe the older woman was actually worried about you. Luda steps to your side and uses her powers to heal you. You clench your teeth and look at your teacher, slightly offended.

"I was taking Marika home. We took a shorter path through the forest, and the Drüskells attacked us. She ran away and alarmed Eric, and I... somehow managed to scare them away." You lie to her about the last part, feeling your friend's burning gaze on you.

Earlier, you promised him that your... unusual encounter with the Shadow Summoner would stay between you. It wasn't safe to talk about them. Besides, you doubt the old woman would believe your story, however true it is.

You nod in thanks to Luda and try to ignore the burning feeling of jealousy as she sends one of her longing glances towards Eric. You quickly regain control, reminded of the watchful gaze of the older woman who was still present.

"I don't understand why that girl called my son, since he controls his powers like a baby controls urine." You're very proud of how you manage to keep from snorting in amusement at her ridiculous remark. Eric, on the other hand, seems to not appreciate at all his mother's teasing.

"I'm here, mother."

"And you should be in the village and working. I don't know what you want to feed yourself with, but now that winter is coming, it will be harder and harder. Stop hovering over that poor girl like a dog over a hedgehog and go find yourself some useful occupation. I'll look after her."

"But, mother..."

"Go, Eric. I'll see you later." You assure him with a warm, gentle smile.

He sighs and gives his mother one last, warning look and approaches the bed. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and after making sure your wounds have healed nicely, he leaves.

"What?" You ask her, blushing slightly with embarrassment as she stares at you.

"One day, he'll put me in my grave, and he'll regret it." She sighs and stands, her black hair interwoven with more frequent streaks of grey, and you see her hands shaking slightly as she hands you a cup of herbal tea.

Lately, you've started to notice that she... stopped looking so young. Before, you couldn't believe that Eric was her son, but now, it seems, time has started to catch up with her. And she's become impossibly more grumpy and stubborn.

"Will he?" You ask, raising an eyebrow teasingly and taking a sip.

"Don't let yourself get carried away, little brat. Just because you make him more bearable doesn't give you the right to mock me. You know perfectly well that this halfwit is head over heels in love with you. So for the sake of all of us, kill it before you break your hearts."

"I... we are just friends." You persist in refusing to admit your feelings to her. She looks at you for a long moment and sighs, nodding at you reproachfully.

"Believe the words of an old woman, Y/N. You... you deserve something more. Don't destroy your peace and life because of one pair of pretty eyes."

"We are not together." You repeat yourself, not even trying to explain to her how beautiful Eric's dark irises were. Worth any pain he could bring you—something you doubt would ever happen anyway.

He was too good to hurt you. Ever. However. He was... Eric. You could always count on his help and support; he always somehow managed to be there for you when you needed him the most. So how could you fight your growing feelings for him?

"I know. But I also know him and you. So trust me when I say, he is not good enough for you."

"Aren't you confusing your roles? Shouldn't you be saying this to Eric?" The woman frowns the moment you say her son's name.

She sighs and gets out of bed, arms folded, when she was staring at you—as if her cold, disapproving gaze would change the way your stupid heart sped up whenever he was around.

"Usually the voice of reason does not break through the deafening scream of foolish love. And this boy... he is a lost cause."

"Maybe I like lost causes?"

"Y/N... you are a smart girl. So for your own good, leave before it's too late." She gathers your things and offers you a hand to help you up.

You accept her unusual, gentle help and take your bundle from her. You absentmindedly stroke the charm on your bracelet—a small stone of your favourite gemstone that Eric gave you for your birthday—as you think about how to respond to her.

"I... I am not going anywhere. I promised him I won't leave him. He is my friend."

"Ehhh... stupid child." The woman shakes her head, irritated by our stubbornness, and leads you to the exit.

You are already on your way to the village when Baghra notices a familiar figure lurking in the recesses of the hut. Her mood darkens even further when she realises an extra, unwanted pair of ears has heard your conversation.

"Happy, Aleksander? Or should I call you Eric?" The woman huffs in exasperation and grabs her old journal from the table.

"You yourself said I should hold my real name away from anyone." Aleksander answers her with the same cold, emotionless tone she gives him and steps out of his shadows.

Only now does Baghra take a moment to look at him. He snorts when he sees the streak of blood carefully hidden beneath his cloak from your view. But not from hers.

"I should also mention your stupid heart then. She will die before you, you know that, right? No matter how much you love her or how hard you will try to protect her, she will grow old, and you will remain in the same shape as today."

"Unless I stop summoning."

"As if you could. I bet you've already done it today, right?" Aleksander turns his gaze away from her. He watches your retreating figure from the window, his heart clenching at the thought that one day he will no longer be able to be by your side or watch you from his shadows. "Let her live her life. She may be a powerful heartrender, but she is still not us, Aleksander. She won't live forever; she is not equal to us. Can you watch her slipping away from your fingers each day? Watch her die in your arms?"

He clenches his fists. Unconsciously, he lets his shadows break free and spread throughout the hut. Baghra sighs and approaches him. She places her hand hesitantly on his shoulder, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"We overstayed here, Aleksander. I leave in a week. And if you really care about her, you will leave with me." Baghra looks at him for a long moment, then lets go of him. She heads for the exit and puts her hand on the doorknob but stops when she hears his voice.

"And what if I don't?"

Cold silence cuts through the air between them. Baghra looks at her son over her shoulder, and for a moment in his eyes, she sees the glow of her old self. A naive version that didn't yet know the true realities of this world, the curse hidden behind her powers. And since Aleksander wouldn't listen to her, to draw from her experience, all she could do was leave him to realise alone, in pain, that there were no others like them, that they were condemned to a life of solitude.

"Then prepare yourself for losing her anyway."

Aleksander clenches his fists as he is left alone in the hut. He lets his wonders flow out of him as he sinks into total darkness. And even the memory of your smile, something that always managed to fight his darkness, only makes the shadows grow thicker around him. Because as much as he hated his mother, he knew there was some truth in her words. You would eventually leave. And he would be all alone. Again. And even if he told you who he really was... it wasn't at all sure that you wouldn't turn away from him like everyone else before you did.

The truth was that you would cast him out. So he has to leave first... before you break his heart, that you didn't even know that belonged to you the moment he met you and got to know you.

He screams, letting his shadows in him exit through his mouth, swallowing the tears that roll down his cheeks.

"I've asked everywhere, and no one has noticed anyone new coming to the village. So it must be one of the locals or someone who arrived recently. But no one comes to mind, with... well, him. My investigation is at a standstill."

You grumble as you walk beside Eric through the forest path. Snow falls around you, causing a few small flakes to cling to his dark coat and hair. He looked adorable. Even with his red nose and the grimace that appeared on his face whenever you mentioned the Shadow Summoner in his presence.

"Maybe that's a good thing? Maybe he doesn't want to be found? Maybe he prefers to stay in his shadows, where he belongs."

"No, Eric, you... you didn't see what I saw, the power that flowed from him. He killed them all with a wave of his hand; it... it was incredible. If only he hadn't hidden, if only he had gathered us all and led us... maybe we would never have had to hide again, never have to make new homes, never have to worry about being discovered, about having to run away and start our lives over for fear of being tracked down and killed for who we are. You must feel the same way I do. Haven't you had enough? That every time you find a home, someone comes and takes it away just because we can do more than them? That we have power that they fear? Eric... I can't live like this. I'll find him. Even if it's the last thing I do, I have to convince him... there's no other way for us."

"That's a pipe dream, Y/N. Even if he gathers us all... forms an army... even among our own kind, there will be those who would seek to destroy him." He replies sceptically and stops to look at the frozen river. You sigh and shove your hands in your pockets, trying to warm yourself up a little.

"There will always be some. Is that why we have to keep hiding in our holes like rats? The Tsar will never change his mind about us if we don't act. We can't bury our heads in the sand, Eric. I'm not going to... I'm not going to let my children, if I have them, live in a world like that... to go through what we went through."

"Y/N..." He sighs and looks at you for the first time since you brought up the topic of the mysterious Shadow Summoner.

You frown as you see a glimpse of pain and concern in his eyes, wondering what could have caused him such a negative agitation. Before you can say anything back, suddenly an arrow flies near you and embeds itself in the ground not far away from you.

"Come with me." Eric takes your hand, not waiting for your reaction as he starts to drag you away.

He runs, pulling you in the opposite direction of where he heard the barking of dogs and the shouting of men. As you pass the arrow, you see the distinctive Fjerdan finish on it. You curse under your breath and speed up, running with Eric to one of the safe havens you and the other Grisha had set up in case the Drüskells 'witch hunt' resumes.

Unfortunately, you're running too slowly, or there are too many Fjerdans (you can't tell because Eric is pulling you along and setting your pace so fast that you can barely move your legs, let alone look back) to lose them. Your lungs are burning, and your heart is beating fast as you wade through the folds of snow.

You doubt that you'll be able to defend both yourself and Eric because you certainly won't leave him alone to these bloodthirsty men. Or that was the plan, before he pushed you into some Saint-knows-where hole big enough for one of you to hide.

"Stay here."

"No, Eric..." You hiss in desperation and grab his sleeve, realising he'll die if he goes alone.

"Stay here, Y/N. I will be fine. I promise. Just stay right here and wait for me." He cups your cheek in his hand and presses his lips to your forehead as you sob quietly into your hand, holding him tight by his sleeve, not wanting to let go. "Hush. I'll be back. I promise. Just stay here and be quiet."

Despite your efforts, he somehow manages to wiggle out of your grip. As he asked, you press your hand to your mouth and stop all the cries and sounds from escaping your throat. You close your eyes and focus on your surroundings, trying to feel the beating of hearts around you.

You shiver as the ground above you shakes with the force of the Drüskells that are chasing Eric. You try to help him in any way you can, slowing some of their heartbeats, tiring them out more, even managing to stop a few of them altogether—something you could never do in your lessons with Baghra. But it's still not enough; you still feel like there are so many more of them than Eric can handle alone.

So you do probably the stupidest thing, but the only right thing you can do in this situation. You come out of your hiding place and run in the direction Eric ran.

When you reach the clearing, the first thing you notice is him, standing surrounded by Fjerdarns. You see his eyes widen when he sees you, too surprised and frightened to notice one of the Drüskells sneaking up on him.

"Eric!" You scream and lunge at him, your hands moving in a practiced motion, manipulating the blood flow of the Fjerdan who wanted to attack him.

But you walk into the trap yourself, and before you can blink, one of them shoots you with an arrow. You scream in bewilderment and grab your arm, trying to staunch the blood while controlling as many of the Fjerdan soldiers as you can, trying to keep yourself and Eric alive for as long as you can.

And then, shadows spread across the clearing. You close your eyes and sigh with relief as their familiar coldness takes hold of you. Men scream in terror, hunting dogs growl around, but after a moment, everything falls silent. All you hear are two heartbeats: yours, calm and sluggish after losing blood from the wound you inflicted with the shot, and Eric's, quick and sudden.

Before you know it, you begin to sink to your knees, both physically exhausted from running and using your power and emotionally exhausted from almost seeing your deaths.

"It's okay. It's okay. You are safe. I got you." Eric whispers, stroking your hair tenderly as he catches you at the last second. And then something inside you suddenly snaps.

Suddenly, you remember the exact moment your mysterious Shadow Summoner saved you all those weeks ago, and as it turns out, he did it again. Eric could summon shadows. He used them to save you for a second time. He... he was the Shadow Summoner. And with that revelation, you faint in his arms.

When you wake up, it's not by Eric's side like in all those romantic novels you like to read before going to bed—your passion that Eric laughs at you for. No. You wake all alone in some makeshift bed. Or rather, you wish you would wake up alone, because the first person you see is…

"Baghra? Am I in hell?"

"You were close enough." The woman grumbles, pressing a cloth to your shoulder. You hiss as you feel the herbs burn your healer-sealed skin. "My stupid son got it into his empty head because of your little accident that the Drüskelle came here for him. So he left. To give himself to them."

"What?! And you let him?!" I ask angrily and throw the blanket off me. I reach for my coat and quickly button it, searching the small room for my shoes.

"You know him. What was I supposed to do? Only two things can stop this stubborn moose: you and his death."

You sigh angrily at her and quickly tie your shoes. You hiss when your haste and carelessness slightly strain your injured arm. But the pain you feel is only an annoying distraction in the face of fear for Eric's life.

"He left a few hours ago. To the north. If you concentrate hard, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat." Baghra advises you as you take a pair of daggers from her. "Y/N." The woman grabs your elbow and forces you to look at her before you leave in a hurry. "Bring him back in one piece. And yourself too. Saints knows what that imbecile will do if anything happens to you again."

All you can do is nod at her as you leave one of the rooms in your hideout. You push your way through other Grisha, trying to get out of the abandoned tomb you all have turned into a base and back to the surface as quickly as possible.

Your blood boils; everything boils as you think about what will happen if you don't get to him in time. You wonder where he even got that stupid idea of ​​turning himself in to the Fjerdans. It won't solve your problem. They'll still be after you, even more when they realise that they killed... that they killed HIM.

You run through the snow, following Eric's footsteps and praying to every known saint that you'll make it in time. You had so many things to tell him... so many important confessions that you were afraid of. You still are. You realise that... Eric didn't tell the whole truth about himself, but on the other hand, you know that in his situation you would proceed just as carefully and maybe even more.

He was the Shadow Summoner. He created something, creatures that could kill people with a wave of his hand. He was something completely different from you and the rest of the Grisha, something much more powerful. And you know perfectly well that they will only listen to him and follow him. If ever there is anything good for you, it will only be with his rule over you.

Luckily, Eric doesn't run far from you. A few hours later, you're able to feel his heartbeat in the distance, or at least you assume it's his. It's strange to admit to yourself that you know that delicate rhythm perfectly, that you've been listening to that song of his heart unconsciously all those nights you spent together by the fire, snuggled up together, supposedly seeking extra warmth, but in reality subconsciously craving the closeness of the other.

You loved him. Even before the Shadow Summoner thing came to light. And you know he cared about you, too. And you would do anything to keep him with you…to make him what you and the other Grisha needed.

You almost fall to your knees with relief when you finally find him. He stands by the frozen river, staring at it with a blank expression, his fists clenched, completely oblivious to his surroundings. In any other situation, you would have snuck up to him, thrown your arms around his shoulders, and berated him for his lack of attention, but now, all you can do is stare at him silently.

Seeing him makes you realise who he is, what he's capable of, and honestly, all those scary stories about the powerful Shadow Summoner don't fit the Eric you know at all.

But you knew that no matter who he really was… you would be there for him. With him.

"Tell me it's you." You say, pulling him out of his own thoughts. He turns to you slowly, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost, as if he can't believe his eyes that he's seeing you.

"Y/N, you should be resting in the hideout..."

"Tell me it's you. I... I know it's you." You interrupt him and take a few steps closer to him.

He frowns at you, pretending not to know what you're on about, but from the way his eyes widen for a second and his heart skips a beat, you know he knows exactly what you are up to.

"I am afraid that I have no idea what you are talking about. Did you hurt yourself in the head? Let me see."

"Don't make me look crazy, Eric. I know, it's you. I may be stupid enough to not realise it earlier, but I am not that stupid to not see it now. You were always there at every major disaster, saving the day, like you knew exactly where to be; you saw more than any of us... For God's sake, you never even summoned a single damn wind. Baghra lied that you had no control over your powers, that you practically had none, but you hid from all of us that you are... please don't hide from me anymore. Tell me it's you. The one we've been waiting for so damn long."

"I... you have no idea what you are talking about."

"Eric, please..." You reach out to take his hand in yours, but he moves away from you before your skin can touch for even the slightest moment. He breathes heavily, quickly, shocked to find that his best attempts to keep who he is a secret from everyone have been in vain.

"You don't know anything, Y/N! I am not even Eric; I... I don't know what I am. What you think I am... I am not. I am surely not anyone's saviour. Whatever you saw... you don't know what you have seen. I... forget about it." He mumbles, his eyes wandering on your figure as he decides what to do, what to say to make you change your mind, to make you doubt what you have seen.

You can see the internal struggle in him, as he wants to reach out for you, but at the same time, he is also keeping his distance from you. So seeing his conflict, the panic state he found himself in, all you want to do is soothe him.

"I see you." You interrupt him and cup his cheek in your hand, grounding him for a moment, making him forget everything else as he looks at you. The lump in his throat eases; he feels the tension in his body leave as you stroke his bearded cheek tenderly with your thumb. "I may not know your real name, or the amount of power and responsibility or pain you carry within you... but I know your soul. I know the man you are trying to hide behind your shadows... but I won't allow you. Not anymore."

He instinctively nuzzles his face into your hand. He closes his eyes, unable to bear your sympathetic gaze any longer. He knows he should do to you what he did to all those who came before you: push you away, make you believe he'll disappear forever, go along with his mother's plan, and let you think he died at the hands of the Fjerdans, but... he couldn't. Not with you. Not when you've become involuntarily an important part of his sour heart that's sought your light like grass hidden for months under snow.

He's been alone in the darkness of his shadows for too long. And if letting you in meant breaking him completely... then he thought a few years with you were worth every pain that resulted from the subsequent loneliness.

"Ever since you appeared, I've been running from something deep inside. And it's worse than I feared, because I look in your eyes, and I can't hide. I tried to push you away..."

"Don't push me away." You interrupt him and take a step closer to him.

"But the feelings come back, just twice as strong." He finishes his thought and wraps his hand around the wrist of your hand that’s still caressing his cheek, tangling his other hand in your hair and pulling you closer to him so he can press a kiss to the top of your head. "And I... I don't know what to say." He whispers shakily, closing his eyes and burying his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent like calming salts.

"You know just what to say." You respond in an equally uncertain, tearful tone, holding him tightly against you, not letting him move an inch away from you, not when you finally have him where you need him—pressed against you.

"I do not belong here. I do not belong anywhere. I never did. Every time I find a home, something happens to take that home away. You do not want such a stray like me."

"You are exactly where you should be. The way you feel when you're with me... Beside me... This is the most right… this feels the most right. Please, don't hide from me anymore." You say, slightly pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes.

He tightens his grip on your hair, his gaze on you burning, almost electric as he stares into your eyes as if they were the answer to all his questions and doubts.

You don't know what he finds in them, but they're convincing enough for him to lean slightly toward you, tightening his grip on your wrist and holding your hand against his cheek as if you'd even dared to think for a moment about letting go of him.

He brushes his nose against yours, a hot shiver running through you as you feel his breath on your lips, the beating of his heart speeding up madly, slowly becoming the only thing you can hear. You close your eyes, allowing yourself one quick breath before you lean down and connect your lips in a shy kiss.

He doesn't allow that insult. In an instant he's all over you, wrapping his hand around your waist and pressing you against him. He deepens the kiss, his full lips caressing yours with incredible gentleness and passion as you both moan softly, finally doing what your hearts have longed for for so long.

You start to lose your breath, but that's nothing when you finally feel his hands on you, the warmth of his body so close to you, the taste of his lips that turns out to be so much better than the best candy you sometimes bought at the market. It was addictive, magnetic, the most intoxicating first kiss you've ever experienced. And not because he was the Shadow Summoner, but simply because he was himself—your Eric.

Eventually, you have to pull away. Your lungs are burning, demanding your stolen heart, but they can't find their voice. Your heart is screaming with joy, pure excitement that quickly dies when you open your eyes and meet his worried gaze, the familiar frown of contemplation you've grown to hate over the past few weeks.

Whatever he wants to say dies on his lips as you silence him with another quick, needed kiss. You desperately think about what to say to him, how to convince him to stay with you, and you realise that you have only one good bargaining chip he could be truly interested in—yourself.

"Don't run away anymore. Don't run away from us... from me." You ask him, placing your hand on the side of his neck, moving away just a few millimetres—just so you can look at him properly, begging him not to leave.

"If you knew what I've been doing all these years… what crimes I've committed, what I've been a passive witness to… what I'm capable of… you'd curse me like they all before you did."

"You don't know that. You can't know. We've been waiting for you for so long, Eric…"

"Aleksander." He interrupts you, looking at you thoughtfully. His hand moves to gently cup your cheek as he traces the line of your lower lip with his thumb. "My name is Aleksander." He repeats in a whisper, causing a faint blush to form on your cheeks.

"Aleksander." You test his name on your tongue, and you know from the way his eyes soften and tears well up in them how deeply he is touched by the tenderness with which you say the name he has protected so much. His real name. "That suits you more. Please, Aleksander... Sasha... don't run away this time."

"I..." He’s speechless at the endearing nickname you gave him. All he can do is bury his nose in your hair and pull you closer to him, engulfing you in a desperate embrace as if you’re the one who’s about to run away.

And from the way he strokes your back, the way he breathes in your scent, you know he won't leave you. You've found the Shadow Summoner. Now all you had to do was stay by his side and help him unite Grisha. And while you were at it… you could take advantage of the special care he'd bestowed upon you. For as long as fate would allow.

Thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it. I really appreciate any comments and kudos/hearts if you want to take your time to share your thoughts about this one. Have a nice day/night!! 😊🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤

[cielito--lindo]

the weight of you

wc: 2.3 k

parings: bakugou katsuki x reader, some iida tenya x reader

a/n and warnings: aged!up au, prohero!reader, afab!reader, swearing, angst and a small amount of fluff, maybe eventual smut??

Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.

“I think she’s waking up!”

“Shh! You’re gonna freak her out!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! But one of our best friends materialized last night and the proceeded to pass the fuck out  in our fucking living room, so excuuuse me if I’m the one who’s a little freaked out!” You could hear a voice hiss from across the room. 

Your head was pounding, fuck how much did I drink? You tried sitting up, but felt woozy. A pair of hands reached out to steady you.

“Whoa there, old girl” A low voice murmured next to you “Easy does it.”

You let out a small groan “What’s going on?” Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to piece together the events of last night. 

You slowly blinked, your fuzzy vision coming into focus. Shinso and Denki’s concerned faces settled into view, they let out a sigh of relief to see you awake. “Oh thank fuck you weren’t dead, Jesus Christ. I was not ready to have to break the news to everyone.”

You looked around the room, realizing that the couple did not break into your home, but you were actually situated on their couch. You looked down and realized you were still wearing your outfit from the night before. The deep blue velvet crushed and crumpled in places that will definitely upset you once you figured out what was going on. “Did I...get dropped off here last night?” You asked slowly. 

“Well, if you mean getting dropped off by a giant cloud of black goop” Denki sipped on his coffee “then yes. Yes you did, baby girl.”

That earned him a light slap on the back of the head from Shinso “You remember anything from last night?”

You tried to wrack your brain “Yeah, I was at work and then I had dinner with Tenya, and...” 

“No! Wait, baby! Please!”

“Katsuki...” You breathed out, the memory hitting you like a brick “I-I saw Katsuki. I-I just wanted to leave.”

Denki’s expression was contorted in a wince, but Shinso looked concerned “Did he say something? Did he hurt you?”

You quickly shook your head “He’s never hurt me, Shinso. I’ve told you that before, we...talked.” If you could call it that “It turns out he was also on a date and-” The pulsing in your head wouldn’t let up and you could feel it in your whole body. “Ju-just watch.” You outstretched your hands, palms facing the ceiling. Closing your eyes and focusing, your quirk began to seep out of your palms, forming a dark cloud in front of you.

“No matter how many times she does that, I’ll never get used to the floating goo.” Denki muttered, earning another smack. 

A faint picture came into view, your dinner with Tenya. Walking outside and being confronted by Bakugou, pulling him into the alleyway. As you replayed your memory for your friends, you tried to not stare directly at Katsuki, but you failed immediately. 

“Because you’re the one who left me! You were there one day and then gone the next..”

You flinched at the words. The first time you heard them, it felt muffled. Like he was screaming through a glass wall, you were so focused on trying to breathe and leaving, that you couldn’t see the devastating look on Katsuki’s face. The pleading behind his eyes as if it was the first time he had verbalized his feelings, and knowing Bakugou it was. 

As the vision ended you felt a slight wetness on your cheeks. You hadn't even noticed the tears until Denki knelt down on the floor with you and gently wiped them away. “I’m okay, I’m good.” You reassured him, a tight smile on your face. “I just...I didn’t see it.” You rested your head against Denki’s shoulder as he rubbed your shoulder. 

You looked up at Shinso, his face muted. You knew that him and Bakugou shared an agency, but Shinso never spoke about him to you. When you moved out and got drunk for the first time alone in your new apartment, you called him and asked about Katsuki, but Shinso didn’t give you a reply. “You’re gonna forget about it in the morning anyway.” You remember muttering a drunken whine, but that was the only time you asked. 

“Hitoshi..did. Did he ever-”

“Every day.” The purple haired man murmured quietly “He asked about you every single day and I gave him the same answer every time, if he was so concerned, he should’ve asked you himself. One day he just...stopped.” You kept your eyes trained on the decorative rug in front of you “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would just make you more upset.”

You reached out and laced your fingers with his “It’s okay, Shin. Really, you both have no idea how grateful I am that you took me in.”

Denki knocked your shoulders with his “Well, duh. We’re besties. We weren’t gonna leave you in the dust.” He stood and helped you to your feet. “Come on, Shinso promised to make us breakfast.”

“I did not!”

***

The uber that the couple had ordered for you dropped you off at your house that afternoon, you tried to order it yourself, but you realized that your phone had died during the night. Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you waved at your neighbor Mrs. Ishimoto. Her salt and pepper hair piled high in a bun as she watered her plants on her ledge. “Late night, dear?”

You huffed out a soft chuckle “Oh, like you wouldn’t believe.” 

“Oh! Someone came by looking for you earlier! He didn’t give me his name, but he was tall.”

Your fingers paused on your keypad as you slowly turned to face your neighbor. “Uh, any other description?” 

She winced apologetically “I’m sorry, dear. I should’ve asked, my memory isn’t as good as it used to be. All I could tell you is that he seemed concerned.”

You shouted a quick “Thanks!” over your shoulder as you rushed into your apartment, your hero senses on full alert. 

Living room? Clear. Kitchen? Clear. Bedrooms and bath? Clear.

You lived close enough to the agency that your close co-workers knew where you lived, but like every other hero, you didn’t plaster your address to the public. The tight ball of anxiety in your chest loosened at finding your apartment untouched, but you couldn’t shake the feeling completely. 

“I need to get out of this shit” You muttered under your breath, trudging back to your bedroom. You quickly unzipped yourself out of crushed fabric, making a mental note to text Mina about fixing the velvet, and removed the, probably, crusted makeup. Fishing out your phone from your purse, you plugged it in to charge while you showered.

The hot water beat down on your tight shoulders, slowly releasing the tension from them. So much for a stress-free first date, a part of you hated the fact that Bakugou had ruined a great time, it had been so nice getting reacquainted with Iida. There were no expectations, no outbursts, just pleasant conversation. No biting quips or retorts. No heated conversations or passionate banter. No snarky grins or flushed skin. No bright red eyes and a wicked smile.

Your eyes snapped open. Bitch you better shut the fuck up right now.

“You had a good time with Tenya.” You chastised yourself “You had a great time and it was nice. It was pleasant and he’s a good man. He’s kind and respectful.” Your carefully crafted shower routine went out the window as you tried to finish as quickly as possible. Another nice thing Bakugou had to ruin. 

The monologue continued as you got dressed. “He’s tall and hot and jacked as fuck. So points there.” There was a handful of lotion being applied when you heard a small knock, knock, knock.You pulled on and tied off your bathrobe. “And yeah, maybe he’s a little boring, but there’s nothing wrong with that! But most importantly, he’s not a fucking-”

You ripped the door open and those bright red eyes you tried to get out of your head, stared back at you. “-dickhead.”

He was dressed in a black sweats with the Red Riot logo down the sides and a soft black hoodie. A Deku gym bag slung around his shoulders. The hood was pulled up, so his normal gravity-defying hair was concealed. “You know, most people answer the door with a hello.” 

“Y/N, dear! This is the person I was telling you about!”  

“Thank you, Mrs. Ishimoto!” You pulled him into your apartment by his collar. “What in the fuck are you doing here?” You bit out as you slammed the door behind you.

“I-”

“Actually, no. Better fucking question. How the fuck do you know where I live, Bakugou?!”

His nostrils flared with annoyance “First, it’s Katsuki and you fucking know that.” The sass in his voice was ever present as he dropped his bag. “Secondly, you’re in the hero database. A fucking idiot could find you that easy.” He shrugged nonchalantly, admiring your apartment like he didn’t just admit to looking up your files. 

You stood there in shock, trying to process the information that was thrown at you. “I’m sorry, I think I just had a fucking stroke. Did you stalk me?” 

“I didn’t stalk you! Jesus Christ, look I asked around first and no one wanted to give me your fucking address, so I had to do a little digging.” He replied, shoving his hands in his pockets, shame creeping up his neck.

You looked at him incredulously “Holy shit there’s something actually wrong with you. That didn’t ring any fuckin’ warning bells in that thick head of yours?! There’s a reason people didn’t want to give you my address, you fuck!” You shoved him backwards, hands on his chest...his very broad chest. 

Katsuki was about to give his own retort when he realized that your robe had slightly come undone as you shoved him. His eyes followed a droplet of water that trickled down your neck from your still-damp hair. There was no voice in his head telling him not to, there was no second guessing as he reached out and softly wiped the droplet off your collarbone. Your body stilled, breath caught in your chest.

“I’m sorry” He breathed out, taking a tentative step closer. He kept his voice low as if talking to a spooked animal, his touch had quieted you down and he wasn’t about to let that advantage slip away “I didn’t come to fight or anything, I swear. I don’t have your number, so I made Kiri call you last night after you disappeared. He called you so many times and you didn’t answer, so then he texted that group chat you have and then everyone started calling you.. I know your quirk can be unstable under duress and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I-” He paused to clear his throat, voice still gruff. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

Your eyes fluttered closed on their own accord, your body reacting instinctively to his touch.

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Your voice sounded far away to your own ears. You made yourself pull away, no matter how badly you wanted to stay rooted to that spot. Pulling your robe tighter around you, you reached for your phone, turning it on.

As it came to life, it buzzed continuously with notifications after notifications. 

Sharky: 5 missed calls

Kyoka: 4 missed calls

Ochako: 5 missed calls

“Shit.” 

Footsteps shuffled behind you “Cheeks remembered to check your location afterwards, I guess your phone died when you got to Mind Freak’s house.” 

Bakugou murmured your name, his touch soft on your hips. God was cruel and this was your punishment. You followed as he guided you to turn and face him, crowding you against your kitchen island. There was enough space between you both that you could’ve easily slipped out of his grasp, but his mere presence felt overwhelming. 

“Katsuki..” You breathed out. The sound of his name spilling from your lips felt like heaven to him. He had replayed old voicemails from you over and over since you had left just so he could hear it. “Katsuki, you need to go.” He could sense the hitch in your voice “Please, go.”

“I know, I know.” He groaned and moved closer to you, nosing the soft skin at the crook of your neck. You felt your own resolve crumbling, hating the way all the anger you felt for him dissipated. “I just-fuck. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” He breathed in the sweet smell of your various scrubs and lotions, remembering how they would crowd your shared bathroom counters. He’d never admit to it, but he would use them whenever you were called away on a long patrol, just to keep a part of you with him. You’d taken them when you left too.

He pulled away and watched as rogue tears fell from your eyes. You needed him gone before he watched you break down completely.

“I’m gonna make this right, Angel.” He couldn’t resist placing a soft kiss on your forehead,  you squeezed your eyes shut to keep from crying further. “I promise, I’m gonna be good to you.”

The heat of his body was gone and the door slammed shut. Your breakdown was immediate. The weight of your anger, your resentment, your regret, your love pulled you down to the cold wooden floor of your kitchen.

His apology played like a broken record in your head.

holy fuckin' shit y'all this is the longest part i've written!!

did i cry when i wrote? oh 100% percent.

thank you so much for all the notes and kind words ilysm 🫶

taglist: @raeroowrites @onlyisaa @kimsrie

dividers: @saradika

[ashes-writing-corner]

Damn this is my longest chapter to date yall! Things are gonna start looking up a little for these two after this. I really hope you all enjoy it!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, and @emimuart

Without further ado:

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 7

Second, third, and hundredth chances, balancing on breaking branches. Those eyes add insult to injury…

She woke briefly, her head against something solid, strong. There was a faint, faint sound in her ear. It was like a watch wrapped in a thick covering. Her arms and shoulders were covered, as the wind pushed against her. Ellen looked up to see Orlok, keeping a hold of her as they rode back together. He looked…different in a way.

More alive, more…wholesome even. Did she do that? Did her blood do that? He had more color to his skin, and Ellen swore she saw a little more hair on his head. He looked down at her, and his eyes had gone from their moonlit shade to an almost storm cloud gray. Ellen looked into those eyes for all of a moment, and she saw a flash of concern in them before again, she slipped back into the darkness of her mind…

He rode faster back to the castle, the cold hitting him harder than he remembered. He was actually feeling it. For the first time in centuries, he felt it in his fingers. What in the world had his little Sylph done to him? One drink of her blood had affected him in a way Orlok couldn’t explain.

His hands had lost their pale, deathly pallor. He now had a soft slight color to them…like he was alive once again. It wasn’t a feeling he was sure he liked, given the circumstances of their being here. He felt stronger, but at the same time he felt human and he couldn’t stand that. Orlok didn’t want to be anything resembling human.

Resembling weakness.

He rode with Ellen back to the castle and carried her inside, the wolfhounds following close behind. They were all worried about her, and about how this revelation of her blood would affect their master. He was of course both concerned and curious, wondering if this strange Other World was giving them qualities of one another. A little of herself in him and a little of himself in her.

“How quaint…” the count thought, laying her down in bed.

Furie joined her on the bed, curling up next to her, while his siblings laid on either side on the floor. Sure they’d keep watch over her, but Orlok had no desire to leave Ellen’s side just yet. He wanted to make sure she was completely okay, as using power like that had the potential to leave the user with effects similar to an overdose. Yes, it was possible to overdose or overuse magic. It was a tricky thing, even in this world. But from what Orlok was beginning to understand was that, at least here in the Other World, there was no such thing as light or dark magic.

It was about intention. It was what one wanted to do with their magic that ultimately determined its power and price. Again, a quaint little thing. In the living world, there was magic of varying types, though generally falling into the light or the dark. Looking at his hand once more, he was beginning to lose feeling in it again. The price was paid, he didn’t need her blood anymore, so the effect was wearing off.

Orlok looked at Ellen as she rested, noting her color had returned to her when once she was pale. This more or less confirmed his theory. They seemed to draw power from each other now more acutely than they did in life. No light, no dark, only intention and an equal price to pay.

“Of all the oddities…we have become a part of each other” he thought aloud, still looking at her.

It was how he felt she was in danger, why he felt compelled to come to her aid despite his anger. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a will of his own, he did. He was still upset about her finding out about Mirela. He knew she would have questions, and Orlok wasn’t sure he was willing to answer those questions just yet.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to face it just yet.

There was so much to do…so much to figure out. He didn’t want to focus on the past right now. He didn’t want to think of who he was, what he had lost. Durere raised his head, as if sensing his master’s inner emotions. The wolfhound got up and went towards the door, most likely going to grab something that would only deepen it. He had a nasty habit of that.

Not this time.

“Durere! Sedere!” Orlok commanded and the wolfhound stopped, turning to face him.

The two locked eyes as if challenging the other. Durere would try, but Orlok always came out on top whenever he was aware of his tricks. During moments of awareness. He was master right now…

The wolfhound’s ears flattened and he practically crawled back towards his master. Durere put his head under his extended hand. For now, the wolfhound conceded defeat.

“Why…why do you call them those things?” Ellen’s voice cut through his thoughts and Orlok turned to her.

“You’re awake” he noted.

She nodded weakly. “Barely…I think”.

“You’re weak from how much I took from you. You need to-”.

“Why did you name them that way?” she asked, ignoring his concerns.

“Ellen…Micul Suflet…They’re just names” he told her.

“No, no…something tells me it’s more than-”.

“You need to rest. I took too much from you. You’re thinking of things that aren’t important”.

“Stop…Orlok…please stop. Stop hiding. Talk to me. Trust me”.

“It isn’t a matter of trust, little one. You are not thinking with a clear mind”.

“No, I am. If they are truly just names, why are you so defensive about them? Would you prefer to talk about what I saw? What I found down there? Who was she? Who was Mirela?” Ellen sat up.

She wasn’t trying to be forceful, but she knew something was going on here. Something she had an idea of but it was just that: An idea. Only he knew the truth. Ellen needed to know what was going on. What was this place? Why were they here? What were those things that attacked her back there?

Orlok growled but Ellen put her hand in his. “Please…I have questions and I think only you know the answers. If I’m never going to know anyone or anything else, I want to know you at least”.

He looked at their hands, now loosely entwined, and Orlok felt his heart lurch. It didn’t feel right, keeping things from her. For all they were to each other, for all they went through. But the Count had no desire to burden her, even if she was volunteering to take on said burden. Ellen looked at him with those soft eyes, those eyes that were among the last things he ever saw in the world of the living. Eyes he both loved and hated. Adored and despised…

“Please…you didn’t hide from me before. Don’t hide now” Ellen pleaded.

How tempting she was…How he wanted so badly to tell her everything. But again, not wanting to let himself be vulnerable, Orlok kept his guard up, pulling his hand away from her sharper than he intended.

“When you’re better rested we’ll talk” he told her, “Starting with why you were down there”.

“Are you then to reprimand me?! Like I’m some child?!” Ellen demanded.

The count snarled and turned to her again. “I just saved your soul! Do NOT make me regret it, little Sylph. I came when you needed me…Like those hounds you have at your feet! And this is how you repay me?! By questioning me?! By claiming to not know me?!”.

“I don’t know you! Not how…how I’d like to…”.

For a moment, Orlok was stunned into silence. She wanted to know him, despite everything he did. She wanted to know him fully, truly. For all of a moment, he was touched in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time. But once again, pride won out.

“You know only what you need to know. Nothing more”.

Ellen frowned. “You don’t trust me”.

“It is not a matter of trust, as I said-”.

“It is. We won’t last, not like this. If we’re to make it through this somehow, if we’re to co-exist, we need to trust each other. You know everything there is to know about me! But you can’t grant me the same courtesy?! Why? What are you afraid of?!”

“I fear nothing!”

“Then prove it!”

Orlok snarled. “I’ve proven myself more than enough, have I not?”.

“Please…” she got up and came right to him, taking his face in her hands, “Please, trust me. We need to trust each other. It’s the only way. We won’t make it otherwise…” Ellen looked up at him, “You trusted me once. You loved me once. What has changed? Tell me”.

He hesitated. “This world is…different. A place made up of memories, or at least, fragments of memories”.

“Memories?” Ellen cocked her head curiously.

“Haven’t you noticed? There are things around here that once were yours, and others that once were mine. Fragments and pieces of who we once were, all now merged into one place”.

“So this isn’t the afterlife?”.

“It isn’t THE afterlife in the way humans think. We were not human when we died. Their afterlife isn’t ours”.

“So then it’s an afterlife then? One designed specifically for us?”

“Our own creation. An amalgamation of all we have ever been, whether together or not”.

“Pieces of our lives all together in one place. But why?”.

“Some things we hold on to far too tightly we carry them in death. They follow us into this world. It’s how it is created. For example, your wedding bouquet is downstairs on my dining room table. I’ve tried to burn it countless times. And it keeps…coming…back” Orlok growled, saying it through gritted teeth.

“Wait it’s downstairs? My actual-”

“Yes”.

“And you’ve tried to destroy it?!”

“Also yes”.

Ellen glared. “Seriously?! Why?!”

“Because I don’t want any trace of your marriage to that useless mouse anywhere near me!”

“He wasn’t a mouse, he loved me! Thomas LOVED me!”

Orlok growled and shook his head. “You may think he did, and perhaps to an extent it’s true. But he didn’t love you the way you wanted. The way you needed, Micul Suflet…”

He leaned in closer, their heads almost touching. Ellen felt his long fingered hand caress her cheek. The texture was rough, but not in a painful way. Rather in a way that just simply made her senses writhe beneath the surface, like a ball of unsettled serpents. Despite that, Ellen couldn’t help but lean into his touch, cool and oddly comforting. It felt like he was touching not her face but her very soul, as though he could sink his claws in and rake them down the very fabric of her being.

But he didn’t.

No. That wasn’t who he was with her. Not with her. Ellen knew that. His claws didn’t even break skin. In fact, they never did. Sure she had a few scratch marks after their otherworldly encounters, but he never made her bleed until the last. For a moment, she remembered that. He never, ever made her bleed.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t hurt her. He was always a bit of a rough lover. He always was. Even more so just before…

“You abandoned me” Ellen said feeling his lips come closer to hers, “Why did you abandon me? I needed you and you-”.

Orlok cut her off with a passionate kiss, not wanting to focus on that right now. So many questions his little sylph had…none of which he wanted to answer at the moment. All he wanted was for her to rest and leave his own troubles to him. No matter what, he would not burden her. His pain was not hers to bear…

He released her, leaving Ellen soft, like she was floating back into Chaos. Her mind clouded a little and all she could think of was him. His eyes on hers, his hands on her. Ellen gently ran her hands down on his chest, feeling the ever so faint beat of his heart where once there wasn’t even a single one. How maddening was it that he was more alive in death than he was in life, at least when she knew him?

“I’m sorry…I did this to you. I turned you into this…this thing” she told him, her eyes sad.

“No, No it wasn’t all you-”.

“You said so yourself. I was your affliction…and it appears I still am. I always will be…” she slid her hands away from him and turned away, “Perhaps that’s why you left me…”.

“No…No little sylph. That wasn’t-”.

“Then why?” She asked, “You could’ve stolen me away any time. Anytime after my papa died and you…you didn’t. You let me marry Thomas”.

A flash of hurt reflected in his eyes at that. It was true, he could’ve had her years ago, and avoided all of this mess. He could’ve had her repledge her vow at any point after her father’s passing. But he didn’t. He knew why…And he was surprised she didn’t realize why.

He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to admit it out loud…but for her sake, he had to….

“I am what I am. And you could not love me for all I was, nor was I willing to curse you like I was. My anger was my greatest fault, and you were falling victim to it as well. You don’t hurt someone you love…”.

Ellen turned to face him again at that only to find he was gone, vanished as if he was never there. Left alone with the dogs and her thoughts, all Ellen could do was shake her head.

“Orlok…”

If you guys enjoyed this please like, comment, and reblog! Your support is very much appreciated!!!! Thank you all so very much! ^-^ if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

[necromancer-at-abattoir]

Thank you for this criticism of my post. It's helped me a lot.

I'm embarrassed at the way I thought that Hellenistic Pagans only worshipped Greek Gods and I apologise for that. I've changed my post to correct that.

I've also deleted the part about Jews. I had intended to just state facts, but I see how you think I used them as canon fodder to appeal to my audience. I'm very sorry about that and I will not do it in the future.

I also get your point about how the gods were not only and never Greek and their creation and being passed down.

I never stated that Rick was only allowed to use one version of a myth in my original post, I only criticised the way he rewrote the myths and expressed my annoyance. I never intended to say that there was a correct or canon version of mythology, but I see how I might have fallen into that trope.

However, they are literally saying that Americans own Greek Gods out in the open on Twitter. The way Rick Riordan justified the Greek Gods was literally saying that without Westernisation, there is no culture, only chaos and darkness, and as someone who's part of a non-Western country, it's pretty annoying to read that and it's racist to countries like mine.

I should have made this clearer in my original post, which I will edit to reflect this, and I'm also stating it here.

I'm not saying that non-Greeks can't write about Greek Gods, but there's a line between respectfully writing about them and disrespectful, and Rick Riordan has definitely crossed that line.

In the original myth, Hephaestus tried to rape Athena and she only defended herself from him. Rick is allowed to rewrite that, but the way he writes it is that Hephaestus is a sad, pathetic man who only wants a girlfriend and Athena is terrible for not comforting him when she just doesn't want to deal with Hephaestus' nonsense.

That reeks of using 'nice guys' and putting girls down for just not wanting to be a guy's participation prize rebound. Hephaestus literally got up on her and ejaculated on her thigh. That's a severe violation of boundaries. Athena had every right to be disgusted and defend herself. And even in PJO, Hephaestus keeps bothering her when she doesn't want to deal with his BS and he actually buries his face in her thigh. Athena had every right to kick him away.

As someone who didn't want to deal with a nice guy like that and got put down for it when I was just tired of dealing with his bullshit, I'm angry about that, and I rightfully can be.

I took comfort in this story knowing that I could try to fight off someone if they try to rape me, just like Athena. I looked up to her for this, and reading Rick's rewrite was extremely aggravating. People like me-and trust me, there are hundreds just like me-have every right to criticise it.

I did say that he was allowed to portray the Greek Gods however he liked in the name of creative license and I stand by that, but I'm also allowed to criticise his portrayal of them and how he rewrites the myths.

Athena is an unmarried virgin goddess for a reason. Her domains are strategic warfare, wisdom, intelligence etc. If she falls in love with men and has children with them, she can no longer be a goddess of those domains, because love would cloud her judgement.

Athena wouldn't randomly dump a child onto a man without preparing him to raise it and form it without asking him for consent. It's cruel, and she has no reason to be cruel. Other gods might do this, but not Athena-she's the goddess of wisdom.

She knows better than to do what she did in Percy Jackson, so it doesn't make sense for her to do such a thing. She would only do it if she wanted to be cruel, and she doesn't want to be cruel to Frederick and her other lovers. Why would she?

The way Percy subtly dropped comments about Athena that were malicious and also unnecessary shows us Rick's dislike for her. When Athena says that she has a plan for a fair competition between her and Poseidon for the honour of being the patron of Attica, Percy says that it was typical and she always had some sneaky idea. There's literally nothing sneaky about this-it's just another malicious comment designed to subtly turn us against her.

I'm not saying that there's a canon basis in Greek Mythology that Rick Riordan has to use. He can use whichever version of a myth that he likes. But like I said before, there's a line between being respectful and disrespectful when portraying the Greek Gods, and Rick ran over it long ago.

People who worship Greek Gods sacrifice a portion of their food in honour of the gods. Rick Riordan turns this into something that they're required to do and they don't like. In his show, he says that the gods like the smell of begging-that is, the children sacrifice the food to the gods so that they can get attention.

This isn't true. People sacrificed food to the gods to honour them. By turning this sacred practice into a derogatory begging ritual, Rick dishonours it. It's not ok.

He divorces the Greek gods from their homeland using the racist excuse of flame of the Western Civilisation and also says

Rick Riordan also used WW2 as a rhetorical prop and a plot device just to justify why the Big 3 couldn't have kids anymore. He literally made Greek Gods of an ancient culture the fathers of people who caused one of the most horrible wars on Earth. His books said that Hades was the father of Hitler and he only changed it later to avoid backlash.

Using ancient gods from an ancient culture to blame for GODDAMN WORLD WAR TWO? I'd say that's pretty fucking disrespectful.

There are multiple people other than me who are angry about this, especially Greek people, because it's the ultimate insult to them to make their gods be the fathers of their enemies, that too ones who caused WW2? Nope.

Listen, I'm really sorry if I offended you and I understand that some of my takes in this post were incorrect and I've changed them. However, I'm also criticizing Rick on his portrayals which I am allowed to do.

My last message is to emphasise that Percy Jackson is not part of Greek mythology and Rick Riordan is not a source of information on mythology like Homer or Hesiod or Apollodorus are and I'd like people to recognise this. They wrote their writings with respect to the gods and culture in mind, and he didn't do this.

HOW RICK PORTRAYED THE GREEK GODS AND WHY IT WAS SO IMPORTANT

So people are going to notice that a lot of my complaints aren't just in PJO but extend to media portraying Greek Myths in general. But I want to focus on Percy Jackson and not other media, so I'm going to focus on Percy Jackson and not other media.

Starting off.................

The way Rick portrayed the Greek Gods was important because PJO was the most read book series that heavily centered around Greek Mythology he pretty much destroyed their images at the time.

There's an entire anti Percy Jackson tag as well as an anti PJO tag for you to scroll through to see how Rick Riordan portrayal of the Greek Gods was terrible. Be my guest and treat yourself to it. Search it up.

There are also people like @alatismeni-theitsa, @margaretkart and @katerinaaqu to ask for correct information on Greek Mythology. So be their guest too.

Today, we have PJO fans running around having incorrect perceptions of the gods and flinging hate and abuse at the real Greek Gods while Greeks and Hellenistic Pagans have to suffer through all this bullshit.

The torture is REAL. Just ask them.

I mean, you have people claiming that they are the CHILDREN of VIRGIN GODDESSES.

Artemis, Athena, Hera and Hestia don't have any demigod children.

If you really want to, call yourself their chosen champion. Not their child. It's disrespectful to Greek culture and religion to do otherwise.

Rick Riordan read about and taught Greek Myths in school, so he must have read the actual versions of the myths.

And knowing these, he decided to twist them into his terrible, inferior, crappy versions.

That man literally wrote Hephaestus, a rapist, as a poor guy trying to get a girl, oh, he's so sad and pathetic, and Athena's such a mean bitch for not accepting his advances even if she doesn't want it!

I'm not joking.................and I don't have words for this. I just don't.

Riordan doesn't really have any tact, does he? None at all.

And no, Greek people and Hellenistic Pagans cannot get away from these horrible portrayals, because there are too many Percy Jackson fans clogging up the Greek God tags with their Rick Riordan written PJO versions of the gods, which is kind of terrible for the Hellenistics who just want to be able to read devotional things about their gods and other people who just want to read about real Greek Mythology, not Percy Jackson. And this happens in real life, too. I mean, people using PJO as a substitute for real Greek Mythology.

Pro tip for PJO tumblr users: if you're typing about a god, use the Greek God PJO tag, like PJO Apollo or PJO Aphrodite, not just Apollo or Aphrodite, ok? Thanks for reading this.

There are many common misconceptions about Greek Mythology due to Percy Jackson. So, if you're not sure about something, please search it up on verified academic websites or ask real people-you can do this online too.

Now I am aware that Rick has the creative license to portray Greek Gods however he wants-

but let us as educated people all be aware of the fact that we should not always take portrayals of the Greek Gods in modern media depicting them seriously and if you want to read up on the actual gods, then read the myths and the Odyssey, Iliad etc.

Now, to name another shockingly appalling writing choice-

In the very first book, WW2 is atrociously used as a plot point

Yes, that's right-Rick Riordan, beloved author of a bestselling franchise for children and adults alike, reduces WW2, one of the most bloody and complex conflicts in history with a multitude of a reasons for its existence, to a fight between fictional demigods of the Big Three simply to have a reason for the Big 3 not to have children.

Do you know how serious this is? Do you actually know how bad this is, though?

Millions of people even today are affected by the WW2 due to generational trauma and abusive parents. WW2 killed millions of soldiers and civilians alike, and the Holocaust was so horrible that some people would faint just reading about what happened.

I will not go into the bloody, gory details here, but if you still don't believe this, go search up WW2 and Holocaust torture and treatment of Jews and other minorities as well.

Jews today still have gaping holes in their family trees because of it. And to have Rick Riordan portray it in such a callous way, to make a literal Greek God sire war criminals in modern history, when there were other methods he could have used to intertwine the mythological world and demigods and history.........it makes you wonder what was running through his mind at the time.

There were so many other ways he could have portrayed the prophecy-make it so that Big 3 children were constantly causing natural disasters and fictional wars in the mythological world, not the real world, and constantly dividing the cabins at CHB. Maybe they had their own war parallel to WW2. There were so many ways to do this- and none of them had to do what was ultimately done.

PJO WWII IS THE ULTIMATE INSULT TO THE GREEKS

What makes this even WORSE is that during World War II, the Greeks were in fact part of the ALLIES.

The Allies were fighting against the Axis powers, the latter of which contained Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy and Japan.

When the Nazis invaded Greece-well, it's never a good thing for a country to be invaded by enemies during a time of war.

At least 250,000 people died during the Axis occupation and its Jewish community was pretty much killed off. And the country's economy and infrastructure were ruined quite horribly.

And generations of Greeks are traumatised because of this, even today. Not just Greeks-thousands of people. Millions of people all over the globe are still traumatized from this war, be it direct experience or generational trauma.

And to make ANCIENT GREEK GODS responsible for WWII is simply, totally and absolutely unforgivable on Rick Riordan's part.

To make the Greeks' enemies the sons of their ancient gods........no. Just no.

And yes, Hitler is a son of Hades in canon. Rick later changed it because of the backlash. He's absolutely disgusting.

WHY THE HELL ARE THE GREEK GODS IN AMERICA?

Now.........the Greek Gods are in the USA!

But..........they're Greek, right, which means that they should be in Greece! So why now are they in the USA?

Well.........here's Rick's explanation for it.

Apparently, the Greek Gods started with the fire of the Western Civilisation and then moved onto other places.

'Flame of the West' crap my ass. Search it up-there's this great article called the Whitening Thief. Read that.

What's meant by Chiron's explanation is that apparently Greece is too bad for Greek Gods now, which is terrible, because that's literally where they originated. And their explanation for leaving it and coming to America is extremely half-baked and just reeks of white American superiority.

@margaretkart

@alatismeni-theitsa

@katerinaaqu

These are all good blogs to disillusion yourself with Percy Jackson and learn about what really happened in Greek Mythology.

And I just want to say-Percy Jackson is an ok start for venturing into Greek Mythology as long as you've read up some basic background beforehand, but-

But-

Do NOT, under ANY circumstances whatsoever, take RICK RIORDAN'S portrayal of the Greek Gods as the REAL Greek Gods.

Never do that. That is the one thing that must not be done.

Hera doesn't just love perfect families. She literally lives in the most dysfunctional family to ever exist. And she loves you if you try. She really does.

Hades would not threaten to eternally torture literal children just because of what their parents did to him. His literal job is to uphold justice in the underworld, and sending a child to Tartarus just because her father angered him and he couldn't punish the father isn't justice now, is it?

Ares loves his children and as for why Rick made him hate them-

Rick has a hate boner against the war god, that I will swear on. Read this post and the explanation for why Rick shouldn't have done it.

And the gods are actively depicted as cruel, neglectful, abusive parents, when in the myths they are quite the opposite.

Real Aphrodite loves her son Aeneas and frequently comes to his aid on the battlefield. She also tells him to not marry a woman (TO GIVE UP LOVE, HER LITERAL DOMAIN) so that he can fulfil his destiny of becoming a king.

Real Ares loves all his children. He tries to avenge his son Cycnus when Heracles kills him with good reason for being a cruel tyrant-and they were even riding chariots together when Heracles came across them. He avenged his daughter even at the cost of being punished by Poseidon and Zeus, neither of whom liked him.

Now, what I want to tell you is that the PJO Greek Gods are Rick's interpretation of them.

An interpretation of a Greek God by a modern author (who isn't Greek, by the way, please take note) is not the same as the real Greek God. Please understand this and accordingly adjust your views.

This also goes for Madeline Miller, Rachel Smythe, etc.

And lastly, one of the most ironic things is that though Richard uses the Greek Gods in his books, he has never ever added a single Greek character in it.

I'm talking about a modern Greek demigod who comes from Greece. Imagine them teaching the other demigods Modern Greek and Greek culture, language and traditions!

It's very ironic that he includes Chinese, African and Native American culture in his works and then turns around and pretend that Greek culture doesn't exist.

The demigods are in Athens, but for how much time before they go back to America? Barely any at all. And nothing learnt about culture while they're there.

(No hate to his already shitty representation. I'm merely making a point that there should have been a Greek character in a book that heavily centers on Greek Gods and their children, even if it's in America.)

RICK DOESN'T USE GREEK CULTURE OR RELIGION AND IN FACT INSULTS GREECE IN HIS WORKS

So, if you've read the title, let me tell you something-

Do you know that Greek Gods are still worshipped?

Some of you do, some of you don't, but let me tell you, they are still worshipped.

And accordingly, you must respect them and their worshippers, just like you would do for Christians. You cannot maliciously ridicule and condemn Hellenistic Pagans and Greek Gods just because they are a minority.

And if you've read the myths and think that the Greek Gods being cruel......

They're not, actually. I mean, yes, you think they're cruel, but most of the myths aren't taken literally by Hellenistic Pagans.

What the Greek Gods do is supposed to be symbolic.

Hades kidnapping Persephone symbolises death ripping children from their grieving parents' arms. It's an explanation for the seasons and it finally represents the fact that daughters could be given away by their fathers with the mother having no say in it whatsoever.

Demeter's grief and her actually being able to do something about her daughter's marriage and Persephone being returned to her is supposed to be a comforting tale for grieving mothers who have lost their daughter.

Artemis' cruelty towards certain people? It represents the cruelty of nature towards humans and what it will do to humans if they provoke it.

Zeus' infidelity and abuse of his power? Well, it represents what kings do. Zeus represented the kings of Ancient Greece, and kings abused their power and had many mistresses besides having a wife.

Many Greek kings also claimed to sons of Zeus or descendants of the gods, so it the idea that Zeus had many affairs with ladies and princesses of royal lineages was conceived.

The link above provides many good reasons for why the Greeks wrote Zeus having many affairs with mortal women, so check it out.

Also, Zeus is symbolic of storms. Storms are volatile and raging, and so was Zeus at times. He was a god of storms and as such symbolised them.

Hera punishing the mistresses and children in a jealous rage to bother Zeus? That's what queens did back in the day since they couldn't directly punish their husbands.

Dionysus being charming and fun but also being mad and wild? Well, he represents breaking away from social norms and going fully wild. Also, wine can make people fun and charming, but at the same time, it can turn people into mad, raging creatures.

The point is, most of what the Greek Gods did was symbolic to their domains. And no, contrary to popular thought, Greeks did not live in fear of their Gods striking them down every moment. In fact, many of them genuinely devotionally loved their gods.

And Greek Gods themselves are very kind and benevolent to their devotees, even today, as long as you don't provoke or seriously insult them. Just ask Hellenistic Pagans and you'll be surprised at the results. I'm serious.

The problem here is that we're trying to moralize divinity.

According to the Greeks, gods weren't humans. They were modelled after humans, but they were above humans and human flaws.

And the Abrahamic gods do terrible things too, but do we mock them? No, we don't, because their worshippers say that they are above humans and human flaws, so similarly, the Greek Gods are above humans and our flaws.

CONCLUSION

And no one cares about the fact that a guy is objectifying and making money off a culture all the while removing its significance and turning it into a joke.

Even though Greeks have a millennia old and rich culture, people are always bastardizing it. Non-Greeks really must stop doing this. It's very culturally disrespectful.

I've also seen grown adults saying that the Greek Gods are American so they're allowed to do what they want with them now, and that's absolutely disgusting. It's cultural appropriation, that's what it is. Do not condone it.

Ah, sorry, not conclusion-let me add one last thing here.

Rick Riordan has a series called Trials of Apollo in which Apollo is cast down to Earth as a human for the third time to defeat Python.

What I want to talk about here is Apollo's human name-Lester Papadopoulos.

Papadopoulos is a common Greek Christian surname that means 'son of a priest'. One of Apollo's domains in prophecy and he has many priests, so maybe this is a reference to that.

But what is most upsetting is that this name is used for comedy.

It's belittled, laughed at and ridiculed for its longevity and hard pronunciation when it is in fact a very normal Greek surname. Even if it's not an American surname, even if it doesn't sound normal and sounds ridiculous to you, it's not ridiculous to others and you should respect it.

Can you imagine how Greek people with that last name read the books and felt bad about their last name? Or felt furious. I know that I would be FURIOUS if my last name was used like that.

And the fact is that Papadopoulos isn't even that hard to pronounce! It's literally just 5 syllables that you can repeat a few times until it doesn't twist your tongue.

And if you can't repeat this simple name, then you need to go back to kindergarten. Hell, go back to preschool even.

And there are people who have the audacity to say that the Greek Gods belong to America and are American. Grown adults, actually, on Twitter, no less. Tweeting it for the whole world to see their absolute foolishness and audacity.

They're pretty tactless, huh?

The Greek Gods were and always will be GREEK. Foreigners are not their rightful descendants-the Greeks are (Greek immigrants included). I mean...........this is bizzarre.

To conclude, (really conclude this time) though it's a series heavily entwined with Greek Gods, the only Greek thing about the series is the Gods. There's no Greek culture, religion or language, and even the Greek Gods are heavily Americanised, which is pretty disappointing. I hope that other authors will do better handling the Greek Gods than Rick Riordan.

(Side note: If you think anything I've said is wrong, tell me. I'll correct it immediately.)

@fandomloverangel

[coquettejunnie]

Say ── Y.N

" Say the word. I know what you're thinking, but just say it first. Been waiting all this time for you to take your turn. In my arms for a second. Baby, say the word, and I'll be yours. "

୨୧ Pairing: Bestfriend!Yuta Nakamoto x Fem!Reader・Wc: 1.5k / fluff, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, jealously, skinship, a kiss scene ! ♡ type: oneshot

In which. . . Yuta tries to confess to you but jealously overcomes him into feeling more hesitant to talk about his feelings to you.

Now playing ; Say by Keshi.

Rose's Note: I have played Say so many times in the past few days, it's actually funny to think about how many plays I have on spotify. And I don't know what this was, I was just typing randomly to post something since I had free time at school. This would have a suggestive moment but I just left it at that.

You and Yuta were walking down the street coming from spending the day at the mall with your group of friends as Yuta was trying to take you home. It had a slight uncomfortable silence between you two during the walk.

While you were at the mall, you had noticed Yuta had been acting off when you were there. He has been acting a little ruder, more spaced out, and keeps on getting in between conversations you had with Mark. You can probably sense that it's jealousy coming from Yuta.

On the other hand, Yuta felt like he was third wheeling between you and Mark during the whole day. He doesn't hate Mark because obviously that's his best friend, but you have been giving Mark more attention than him. But now Yuta feels hesitant to speak to you about what's going on in his mind because he feels guilty from being rude towards you and a little bit of everyone else - including Mark.

Yuta thought about all the times he tried to signal you into comprehending his feelings but he can't help but think, Was all of this a mistake? Did she not understand where I am coming from?

All the times he would cancel his plans with the group to hang out with you even if you insisted to be with his friends. All the times he rests his hand either on your shoulder, your lap or brushing his hand against yours intentionally without trying to make it too obvious or uncomfortable. All the time he bought you random collectibles for your shelf, which he always earns a bright smile from you. All the times he would playfully pucker his lips trying to kiss you, which you always start laughing whenever he does. And all the times you catch him admiring your beauty from afar.

And even thinking back at it, he randomly calls you a lot of names like baby in a playful, flirtatious way just trying to tease you - which each time he does, it makes you form butterflies inside your stomach and makes you freeze in place. You just don't understand what has been going on lately with him.

"Uhm, Yuta?" you spoke up, trying to break the awkward silence. Yuta turned his attention towards you as he was waiting for a response. "Are you mad at me?" you asked curiously.

"No? What makes you think that?" his voice was a little far from being casual, like as if he felt uneasy as he questioned you.

"Because today you have been acting strange towards me." he gave you a confused expression in return for your response.

"In what kind of ways?"

"Like - you have been more distant from me and you seemed more mad or bothered by something while we were there. Do want to tell anything that has been bothering you?"

He places his hand on the back of his neck, "No, I haven't been really distant from you. I just have been in the clouds, you know?" he pointed his finger slight upwards towards the sky, demonstrating his analogy.

"Oh, alright..." you left it at that because you didn't want to push - force him into answering you and get mad about it.

When you made it to your house, you went up a few steps to your porch and faced him.

"Thank you for taking me home." you flashed him a smile - which made him smile as well.

"Of course." he nodded his head slightly. "And one more thing before you go inside." you stopped before you could fully go into your house. He felt nervous about telling you how he already felt earlier because he doesn't know if you would be pissed. "I wanted to say that yes. Something had been bothering me. During this whole day, you could just say it is jealousy but I just felt left out - third wheel between you and Mark this whole day. And basically you had been giving him more attention today than me. So i'm sorry if I have hurted you in a way when I was speaking to you."

You blinked at him. But you were right all along, you already knew it was jealousy that he felt today. You didn't mean to give Mark more attention today but you were trying to invite Yuta into the conversation each time but he always just decline it and continue walking along.

"Yuta..." was all you could say because you didn't know what to add on. But then you cleared your throat, "Yuta, i'm sorry. I didn't mean to give Mark more attention than you. I-"

"No, I understand somewhat of what you were probably feeling. But I just wanted to tell you how I felt so I wouldn't hold this feeling, you know." you stared at him - still feeling guilty of your actions today.

"But what I did was wrong and I didn't let you really hang around. It is all on me who did this and-" before you could finish, Yuta had leaned in closer and rested his hand rested on your cheek.

"You don't need to continue."

"But Yuta, I didn't finish apologizing." you exhaled before you continued, "I didn't mean to just leave you alone as I was hanging with Mark. I know I haven't been hanging out with him that much but I tried to invite you in so I wouldn't make you feel left out but you just said it was alright and I left it at that. I sound like a horrible friend to you-"

"No you don't sound like a horrible friend. Like how I keep on saying. It was me who done more things bu-"

"But i'm the one who shouldn't have left you alone." you looked down at the ground but he lifted your chin up with his index finger. He rested his forehead against yours as you could feel each's others breath.

"It's okay, Y/n." he murmured.

You guys had held eye contact for what seems like forever, without Yuta taking his starry eyes away from you before he had broken the tension,

"Can I kiss you?" he blurted out - which made you baffled by his sudden question.

You didn't know how to feel or answer to him. So, you stayed silent for a few seconds before you nodded to his response. He looked into your eyes to see if there were any lie before he brushed his lip against yours - taking it slowly without rushing as he pressed his lips against yours fully.

He was hesitant about the kiss at first since it was so sudden that he had asked about it, but he titled his head to deepen the kiss that had left you speechless. But a few seconds later, he backed away because he felt like he had made you uncomfortable from the way you were frozen.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" he looked at you concerned.

"No, no! You didn't. It's just that I didn't know how to feel."

"I won't do it again since you didn't feel the sa-" before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his without hesitation - making his eyes widen from being flabbergasted.

You kissed him as if you had always been waiting for this moment to come true. The feeling of the adrenaline had rushed over you guys, causing both of your guy's heart rate to go up as the both of you closed your eyes. His hand ghosted your cheek before it had found your jaw and he cupped it - making his thumb ghost your cheek while he ran his fingers through your hair, manufacturing the moment that you guys had shared being romantic and passionate. His lips formed into a smile in between your soft lips.

After a little bit, he broke away from the kiss that made you feel more desperate, letting go of the hand that was tested on your cheek to travel to your waist - caressing your curves. You glanced down at his hand before looking back at him where you could see that his lips was curved into a smile.

He leaned in to kiss you on the cheek as you felt your cheeks warming up from being in between embarrassed and flattered.

"Are you going to go back inside?" he gave a cute smirk at you.

"Ohm, yeah..." you said as you were stammering on your words. "Yeah, I'ma get inside."

You were trying to get inside your house, but you saw that the cute man was following along with you teasingly, making you stop your tracks.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." he had his hands in his pockets as he backed away, making it look like he wasn't following you. But you felt amused by it. "But I will let you go."

"You want to talk about it tomorrow?" you questioned him.

"Yeah." he nodded. "Goodnight." he kissed the corner of your lips before he walked behind.

"Goodnight, Yuta." you beamed a smile. In return, he sent you kisses from afar while his hand was making it look like he was throwing it at you, making you start giggling at his playful act.

[vaggieslefteye]

CHARLIE MAGNE from HAZBIN HOTEL (2019): Pilot - "That's Entertainment" ↳ "So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?"

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[starman-john-tracy]

Pink Hair, Does Care [RP]

scramjettracy:

“Ha no, that one wasn’t the fish. Grandma bought it me because some retired pilot endorsed it.” Scott choked a little on the overwhelming cloud “the Gs must have taken out his olfactory nerves.” Scott pauses in his attempt to pick up glass shards using a pair of intact bottles as tongs and finds himself lost a moment, remembering his Mom’s arms around him as he breathed his panic and humiliation into her shoulder, much as John just had just now. “Gordon didn’t understand why I was so gutted… poor kid. I should have laughed it off but…” Mom had understood. “I had a date… prettiest girl on the cheer squad, only asked her out for a dare.” The sound from the shower could have been amusement or sympathy. Scott decided either worked for his current running-distraction purposes. “Slightly panicked when she agreed to be honest.. Anyway I spotted she had an autographed picture of this rock star stuck in her locker, he had spiky blue hair so… I figured… well. Yah. Mistakes were made.” If he thought back, his teenage self had probably been more worried what his friends would think if it went badly than whether the girl actually enjoyed it. Whatever it was, he’d got himself in a spiral and it had been the first time he’d cried on his Mom in years. And, as it turned out, the last too. He cleared his throat, John didn’t need to know any of that. “She told me she had an ill-advised purple dye incident the night before the wedding she met Dad at and the rest was history… I’m sure there’s a photo somewhere.”

"Lacey Hackett?" John remembers, because of course he does. "Blond, ninth grade?" The bathroom is filled with hot steam and the sharp smell of shampoo and desperation as John scrubs his fingers frantically through his hair. The shower water rushing down the drain is a promising neon pink, but his skin, with the heat turned up to practically boiling, is rapidly looking the same. "Did you ever actually get that date?"

He sticks his head out of the shower to look at his brother, foamy bubbles in his hair and pinks streaks staining his fingers. John catches sight of his blurred, alien reflection in the steamy mirror and finds it's like a stranger is staring back at him. Though no longer so neon, the limp wet strands, dark with water, are more of a dusky rose.

That's still... quite pink.

"I bet Mom pulled it off a hell of a lot better than us." John sighs, then ducks back in, scowling like the dye is mocking him personally with its stubborn refusal to fade. He squeezes another dollop of clarifying shampoo into his palm, weakly hoping for the best as, frustration etched across his face, he goes in for round two. Building up a lather between his palms he starts rubbing his scalp in frantic circles - hoping for some miracle against the relentless pink. The dye just won't budge though and the more John scrubs, the more his scalp starts to hurt.

He sticks his head out again to miserably appraise the mirror. Oh, maybe it is starting to look paler... or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

[capricioussun]

I have nothing prepared, didn't even start something. Happy birthday undertale <3

[sieglinde-freud]

you know ive never had robin s support a spotpass character. maybe i’ll marry gangrel

[cultivating-wildflowers]

📒

[slumbering-shadows]

Hi everyone I'm finally fully caught up judt in time for tonight's (?) fucking episode so.

Adaine's Furious Fists on Oision yeah? This motherfucker? Like forget everyone else he specifically is the problem in this moment methinks

[fitzrove]

Omg turns out Brigitte Hamann and Fredrick Morton beefed over Rudolf's depiction in Affaire Mayerling (das Musical)