#this took longer than i thought it would but was honestly fun

[helpzimtravel]

PUT HIM IN A BLENDER!!! IMMEDIATELY

☆ He's conquering this "blender" ☆

(I would totally not actually put him in a blender that's so mean.)

☆ - Extra photo:

Don't worry, the blender is off :3

Thank you for the ask, anon!

(I THINK ITS HILARIOUS MY FIRST ASK WAS THIS THO SRSLY :3)

[iicarused]

Hi! ^^ I saw that your requests are open. Can you please do nsfw headcanons for Vox, Alastor and maybe Adam (if you’re open to write for him if not no worries!) with an S/O (separte) who is really sweet, but when they get to the bedroom for the first time she starts some kinky stuff once she’s comfortable enough. Stuff that they never knew would leave her mouth? How would they react?

I hope you have a beautiful day! ^^

##good girl

separate! vox x reader / alastor x reader / adam x reader

beware: smut, blowjob, knife play, biting, choking, cockwarming, rut, breeding kink, overstimulation, electric play, degradation, praise, mention of rope bunny, marking

a/n: thanks for being the reason why i post nsfw for the first time LMFAOO like actually i never posted it before so mb if these aren’t great<3

VOX

when you and vox started dating, the last thing he thought of was you being fun in the bedroom. now don’t get him wrong, he enjoys a little vanilla sex from time to time: but for you? a whole different story.

he thought you were more tame, to be fair, you were a whole sweetheart. but there came a time where he got a little too in his head and light electricity emitted from the palms of his hands.

he was so close to pulling away but the sound that came from you? he couldn’t stop. now, the electricity was not harsh, but instead sizzled over your skin: it’s how he often took off steam. the two words that really tied the knot is when you said “use me,” between kisses

the last thing he figured is that you were into choking, and here he is with his fingers curled around your neck. heavy breaths and degrading words being whispered to your ear.

“such a fucking whore begging for my cock like this, and here i thought i knew you.”

honestly, he gets even more ecstatic to know you’re a freak just as much as he is. his a corruption kink and your putter sona of portraying and innocent sweet heart really sparks that in him.

after figuring out this information, he enjoys calling you into his office and have you ccokwarm him. feeling you clench around him the longer you cannot move, or he will grip on your thighs to make you still.

ALASTOR

breeding link goes heavy and it was because that is how he found out about you’re kinky side. it was while he had you in a mating press when you let out those sweet words of “breed me, breed me, please alastor!” the begging and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders when he released.

“gun’na fill you right up until your dripping with my seed.”

he was quick to play into it that night, because things got more exciting after that. there was no genuine shock because to alastor? you were just so sweet and kind that you had to be hiding something. being a freak in bed was one of the last things but it was there.

the last thing he expected was stop being until knife play — it would be waaay later until he found that out, and how he did? he noticed the way you writhed under him whenever this his claws glided against your plush skin. the sounds you makes when his digs his nails into your thighs while he’s rutting into you.

breeding link mixed with overstimulation for this radio demon — only during a rut — other times, he’s fine and sex doesn’t occur often. usually to satisfy you when he isn’t in the mood, he lays you out on the bed while he reads a book and fingers you. can and will eat you out like it’s his last meal if you’re being too whiny.

ADAM

“such a slut, couldn’t wait for my cock and had to be fucked on the table in my office, huh?”

he knew you were a freak, he loved tying you up in the bedroom and using you until you were overstimulated. but when you came into his office and was more touchy, that caught him off guard. first, he thought you were joking. now he has you bent over his desk with a hand over your mouth, praying internally that the seraphim’s don’t catch this.

another part of him hopes to be caught. everyone believes that you’re some sweet angel who can do better than adam, but he’s the only one who can rail you until your legs begin to shake. (you wonder why lilith and eve left him sometimes)

goes crazy when you take his hand and place it where you wanna be touched. “i need words, sugar, what do you want me to do?” very oral with you, especially when he ties you up. leaving hickies isn’t enough, this man will bite into your skin (if you’re okay with it.) and ruin you

please be oral with him too, it will drive him fucking nuts. sharper thrusts and loves pressing you against the wall.

no because he will definitely have you bounce on his cock in the office but his wings will spread around the two of you for more privacy after he became the lead extermination angel.

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

<- Previous - Next ->

Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

--------------

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[nina-ya]

Can I have a scenario where Law is jealous of Bepo because you’re always hugging and cuddling with him like the big cuddle bear he is but Law is too shy to admit that he’s jealous

A/N: Hi there!! I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: none just fluff WC: ~800

It’s truly hard to resist the lure of the comfort that Bepo brings. Everyone knows this. Everyone on the crew has succumbed to the furry comfort of the polar bear, and you were no different. Especially during those cold winters, trying to steal Law’s body warmth is not enough, so you often turned to the furry companion.

You often found yourself nestled comfortably against Bepos warm fur. As you lay there, you caught a glimpse of a certain captain out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong. You would notice how his stares would linger on the two of you when you were cuddling, or how his attitude would be the slightest more passive aggressive if you were to talk to him after cuddling the polar bear. 

You brushed off any thoughts of jealousy, chalking up the more sour behavior to stress from future plans. As the days went by though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was indeed something wrong with Law, yet every time you would confront him, you would be met with a short and sweet “nothing’s wrong.” 

‘Nothing’s wrong’ he claimed, yet those stares never stopped that constant upset mood never stopped. It’s as if he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo or something… holy shit he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo!

Once you put two and two together, you couldn’t help but find this all amusing. His denial of anything being wrong was slightly infuriating, but his lack of communication is something you would work on later. For now, your main focus is exploiting that newly discovered jealousy until he owns up to it.

You started purposefully avoiding Law as often as you could to cuddle with Bepo. Every time he would see you, you would be cuddled into the side of the polar bear. This only heightened his jealousy further and further with each passing day.

Today, the Polar Tang was surfaced, and the crew took the opportunity to go star gazing at night. All of you lay on the main deck, watching the stars above, and you of course were planted right in the arms of Bepo, your new favorite spot. The crew was passing around food and drinks, chatting and laughing under the night sky, until Law left the group early. He was quieter than normal tonight, and you were honestly wondering if you were starting to take this jealousy thing too far.

Then, a blue bubble encompassed the entire deck and suddenly, you were no longer on the main deck in Bepos arms, but you were in the captains quarters, in Laws lap.

You stammered in confusion, trying to make sense of the disorientation caused by the sudden teleportation. Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. As if by instinct, you melted into his arms, your body molding into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You nuzzled your head into his neck, mumbling against his skin. “Are you okay?” The care for him evident in your tone.

He let out a small grunt in response, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just stay with me for a bit,” he muttered to you, a subtle vulnerability laced in his voice. 

With a hum, you settled further into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body right against yours. The tension that had been building finally began to dissipate the more you settled into his touch. His tight grip around you softened, and you could feel his worries easing with the sigh he let out. It was as if all the weight of his jealousy had been lifted off his shoulders. 

You nestled closer to him, resting your head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. It’s moments like these where words are not needed, just each other's presence. He rested his head against your own.

Law broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “ “for acting so…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to articulate his feelings.

“Jealous?” you finished for him, your voice gentle as you looked at him with understanding. A pause filled the air as he took in that word. ‘Jealous’. Law hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded with reluctant agreement.

“Yeah, jealous.” he admitted, confirming your thoughts. 

You sensed his discomfort and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. “You know,” you began, your voice tender as you reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. “This is my favorite place. Right here, with you.” you punctuated your words by squeezing him tight. 

His eyes softened at your words, “Good,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “lets keep it that way.”

[copper-16]

She Feels Safe With You

Ingrid comes to a realization about her wife as a mother after a particularly hard day with a fussy, upset baby.

(a/n: this was requested by someone on ao3! It's honestly half coherent but life I am riding the struggle bus a tad bit ust wanted to write something soft and sweet about these three, hence this!)

Mapi never really considered herself a crier, not just as a general rule. 

She did not cry when she got hurt, or when she was frustrated, or when she watched a sad movie. 

She cried occasionally, sure, but it wasn’t a daily, or weekly, or even monthly occurrence. 

The Spaniard had cried when Ingrid had walked down the aisle, when she had resigned from the national team. She had cried when she got the notification that Spain had won the World Cup, an event she was not present for. 

When they found out they were pregnant, Mapi cried. Ingrid had been in too much disbelief to cry at first, not truly believing that it had worked, not after two failed transfers. 

But the center back had cried instantly, fat, bumble bee like tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought about the fact that they were actually going to be having a baby. 

It probably should have been a sign of what was to come, in the future. 

Mapi cried at nearly every ultrasound, tears springing to her eyes whenever they simply wheeled the doppler in, practically. Ingrid had begun to joke that her wife had turned into Pavlov’s dog, except it was listening to their baby's heartbeat at the appointments. It earns her a withering glance, as Mapi roughly shoved her tears away. 

“Are you going to cry every time you hold her? What is going to happen when you hear her heartbeat when she is no longer inside of me?” Ingrid sassed, though Mapi does not dignify her with a response. 

The Norwegian has a relatively easy pregnancy, thank god. She keeps waiting for the wild emotional highs and lows, or the cravings, but neither really come. She had her moments, sure, but in the large percentage of the time, she felt normal. 

What had been more fun, honestly, was to watch her wife turn into a complete and utter pile of mush, emotionally. 

She had never seen Mapi cry as much as she did in the lead up to Elena’s birth. Sometimes she would walk out of their bedroom to see Mapi sitting on the couch, tears running down her face as she looked straight ahead, not even really looking at anything in particular. 

“What are you crying about?” Ingrid had asked, her head cocked to the side in confusion. The Spaniard looked back toward her, her brows furrowed in confusion as she shook her head. 

“I’m not really…I’m not really sure?” Mapi asked, her words a question rather than a statement. She took Ingrid in for a second, the swell of her stomach, and couldn’t help the fresh wave of tears that overtook her once more. 

“We’re having a daughter,” she breathed out, her words slightly gasping over the wavering of emotion in her voice. Ingrid made her way over to the couch, settling next to her wife as she curled into her. 

Mapi moved to wrap her arms around Ingrid, as she usually did, but the dark haired woman stopped her, softly. Instead, she took her wife's hands gently in her own, pressing a kiss to each of her palms before she placed them over her belly. 

Ingrid relished in the way that her wife let out the tiniest little sigh of relief, even as more tears dripped down her face. 

“That’s your daughter in there,” Ingrid insisted, her voice soft. A tiny kick pressed against the center back’s hand, as if to punctuate the defender’s point. Mapi closed her eyes, even more tears leaking out of her eyes as she nodded. 

The Spaniard was terrified that she wouldn’t be connected to Elena, because she wasn’t the one who carried her. She was terrified that she wouldn’t love her daughter, or be a good parent, that she wouldn’t do or say the right things. 

It was easy for Ingrid to know that Mapi was going to be a good parent. Because the reality of the matter was that her wife cared, deeply, and that already made her a hell of a better parent than a lot of people out there. 

But Mapi still struggled to see that, no matter how much she was reminded. 

————

Mapi cried when Elena was born. She cried as she held her little baby, as she pressed the pad of her pointer finger to her little nose. Elena stayed firmly asleep when she was in Mapi’s arms, never once fussing until she was passed around. 

It became a bit of a theme, their daughter sleeping on Mapi. 

Ingrid didn’t notice it at first, not when she was a baby. She was so little after all, all she did was sleep, practically. 

But still, Ingrid snapped a million photos of her daughter, and so she got a fair bit of Elena sleeping against Mapi. It was where her daughter always seemed happiest, and as much as the Spaniard panicked and turned to Ingrid when the baby was fussing, it was her who was the best at calming Elena. 

It was only when Elena got a little bit older, that Ingrid finally pieced it together. 

The baby was a little bit older, a little bit more alert. She was nearly a year old when she began to resist sleeping, not as easy to put down, waking up early, becoming fussy. 

Ingrid had been at her wits end all morning. The baby wouldn’t stop crying, and her head hurt, and she was tired. 

She wanted nothing more than to go into her bedroom, curl up with her wife, and sleep for more than two hours at a time. But she couldn’t do that, not with her baby here, not when Elena needed her. 

When the doorbell rang, the Norwegian honestly wanted to scream. Elena looked as though she was just about to fall asleep, but the baby jerked awake as soon as the doorbell rang, her nap forgotten. 

The crying was back, and Ingrid held the baby to her chest as she ripped the door open, lashing out at whatever was closest. 

The culprit just happened to be Frido. 

“Fridolina Rolfö I swear to GOD–” Ingrid started, only to be cut off before she could say something she truly regretted. 

“Ingrid.” 

The voice was soft, and probably shouldn’t have been audible over the crying of their daughter, but Ingrid would never not hear her wife. The defender turned around, finding Mapi standing behind her with a sympathetic look on her face. 

The Spaniard had just gotten off the phone from a brand meeting, just a few minutes prior. But she had called Frido before the meeting started, telling the Swede that she needed to come steal Ingrid for a bit. Feed her, let her nap in peace, get away from the house for a bit. 

The Norwegian looked back at her wife with confusion. She hadn’t made plans with Frido, and she knew that she couldn’t leave Elena like this. 

But the Spaniard reached for the baby regardless, taking her from Ingrid. The dark haired woman looked over her wifes face. There was exhaustion present, lines written into her face, bags under her eyes. 

But there was also understanding there. Some nerves, but understanding nonetheless. 

“I called Frido to come take you back to her house for a bit, to have a little bit of a break. Eat a proper meal. Get some sleep without a crying baby around. Rest for a while, princesa. We will be here when you return,” Mapi promised, leaning forward to kiss Ingrid’s cheek. The Norwegian panicked, looking from Frido to her wife. 

“But–” Ingrid started, knowing how nervous it made Mapi to be left alone with the baby. 

Still, even all these months later, she worried that she was struggling to connect with her daughter. All of Ingrid’s movements seemed so natural, so perfected. And somehow still, hers felt awkward and stinted, never quite right, never as maternal or as easy as she wanted them to be. 

She wanted to do better, though, for her daughter and her wife, who was clearly exhausted. Not that the center back wasn’t equally as tired, she just couldn’t very well do anything about it right this very second. But she could do something about Ingrid’s exhaustion. 

“No, we will be fine, Ingrid. Take a few hours, amor, you are exhausted,” Mapi soothed, gently pressing the Norwegian out of the door with a soft hand, allowing Frido to lead her away. 

It turned out, Ingrid needed it more than she thought humanly possible. When she got back to the Swede’s house, there was Sodd waiting for her on the table, and she practically collapsed into the bowl she ate so quickly. 

She napped in Frido’s guest bedroom, sleeping for four straight hours. 

When she awoke, she felt like a new woman. She emerged from the bedroom with a small, sheepish smile. 

“I am SO sorry for snapping at you this morning,” Ingrid apologized, even as Frido held up her hand. 

“Ingrid, you were exhausted and carrying a screaming baby, if I had been you I would have been roundhouse kicking someone,” Frido admitted, and the defender couldn’t help the tiny laugh that she released at the thought. As she came back to herself, she couldn’t help but straighten, a thought racing through her mind. 

“Oh my god, Mapi is still home with the baby…can you take me back?” Ingrid asked in a slight panic, and her Swedish teammate quickly sprung into action to grab her car keys. 

“She is still so worried that she is not doing a good job with Elena,” the Norwegian admitted as they drove, her heart punctuated with worry. 

“Still?” Frido asked, well aware of the struggles that the center back had during the first few months of Elena’s life. 

“Not as much now, but still. It does not come as naturally to her as she wants it to be, but she still does such a good job, somehow. I do not know how she doesn’t see it, really,” Ingrid revealed, and Frido let out a small, sad sigh. 

“She is so hard on herself,” the Swede commented, and Ingrid could only cringe as she nodded, her agreement weighing on the car heavily. 

Frido parked the car in the car park of their apartment building, coming up with Ingrid to check on Mapi and Elena. They were both expecting to still hear crying as they unlocked the door, but the house was…quiet. 

Ingrid looked toward her teammate in confusion before they walked into the house, both of them searching for the Spaniard. 

“Mapi?” Frido called out softly as she checked the kitchen, only to hear the Norwegian call out to her in the living room. 

When the blonde walked into the room, she stopped next to Ingrid, surprise coating her expression. 

Mapi was fast asleep on the couch, with Elena curled into her chest. Mapi was only in a sports bra, her shirt discarded on the floor. The baby was stripped down to her diaper, pressed into her Mami’s chest comfortably, completely asleep as well. 

Frido looked from the Spaniard to the Norwegian, her eyebrow raised. 

“I don’t know, looks pretty natural to me,” she shrugged, and Ingrid softened as she nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. She pulled her phone out, snapping a photo and placing it in an album on her phone that she was well acquainted with. 

Ingrid left the two of them, seeing Frido out before she returned to the living room. She sat on the floor, simply staring up at the two of them as they slept. Elena was completely safe, engulfed by Mapi’s arms. 

How Mapi could keep her daughter so safe and secure, and still question whether she was a good parent, Ingrid sometimes did not know. It seemed so blatantly obvious to the dark haired woman, that her wife was an amazing parent. 

She only wished that the brunette could see it herself. 

It was only another half hour before Elena began to fuss, and Ingrid quickly plucked the baby from her wife’s arms, going to feed and change her. The Spaniard was dead to the world, and Ingrid decided to simply let her sleep. 

Lord knows the woman could use it, just as she had needed it. 

But even after Elena was fed and changed, she continued to fuss. She cried softly, not very loudly or in a grumpy way, but as though she was not completely happy. 

Ingrid tried everything. She bounced the baby, she walked her around, she made faces at her, she covered her in blankets, she laid her down. 

Nothing seemed to appease her daughter. Not even when Ingrid stripped her own shirt off, wondering if maybe she just enjoyed the skin to skin contact. 

But still Elena kicked her little legs, letting out a weak, tired cry. The defender held her baby out in front of her, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“What do you need?” Ingrid asked aloud, though she wasn’t really expecting an answer. Still Elena let out a frustrated cry, wriggling slightly. The Norwegian paused for a moment, before turning around and heading for the living room to test a theory that was beginning to form. 

And sure enough, as soon as the baby was laid on her Mami’s chest, she quieted instantly. 

The brunette shifted in her sleep, wrapping her arms protectively around Elena, mumbling incoherently as she snuggled into her. Ingrid sat down on the couch next to her, cuddling into her wife as she slept, and helping to keep their daughter held securely as she slept. 

Mapi awoke when Elena started fussing again, waking gently as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, her attention completely on Elena even as she woke up. 

“Shh shh mi sol, esta bien, esta bien,” Mapi murmured, picking Elena up and going to sit up, at which point she registered Ingrid next to her. 

“Oh, hello princesa,” the Spaniard murmured, settling their daughter in her arms before she leaned over to deposit a kiss on her wife’s cheek. She paused though, when she found Ingrid crying, her phone in hand. 

“Ingrid? Is everything okay?” Mapi asked softly, her voice thick with sleep but still filled with concern. The Norwegian nodded easily, running her hand over Elena’s back as she set her phone down on the couch. 

“You are the best Mami,” she replied simply, watching as a flicker of doubt overtook the Spaniard’s face before she nodded, trying her hardest to look encouraged. The Norwegian looked at her wife for a moment before she reached for their daughter. 

“Here, give me Elena,” Ingrid said gently, taking the baby and going to put her down for an actual nap. 

When Ingrid returned, she found the center back sitting on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest. 

“I realized something, when I came back from Frido’s,” the defender began as she sat back down, reaching for her phone once more. Mapi turned to look at her, quiet and more than a little curious. 

“Ever since Elena was born, I’ve kept an album on my phone that is just pictures of her sleeping on you. And whenever I feel sad, or upset, or I just need a little pick me up, I always look at it. It’s my two favorite people in the world, after all,” Ingrid explained, and her words are so gentle that Mapi can’t help but smile shyly, even after all these years. 

“She’s always loved sleeping on you, María. You are the best at calming her down, you are the first to get her to sleep. She feels safe sleeping on you, amor,” Ingrid argued softly, though Mapi looked immediately posed to disagree. 

“Look,” Ingrid insisted, pressing her phone into the hands of her wife. The album is already pulled up, simply waiting for the Spaniard. 

Hundreds of pictures. 

Thousands of pictures, even. 

All of Elena snuggled into her Mami, fast asleep. They started when she was a newborn, so tiny that Mapi had struggled to even hold her without feeling fear. 

As the little girl grew, so did the Spaniard’s resolve to be there for her daughter. Her confidence grew as well, her worry subsided a little bit. 

But more than anything, over the last year, her love for the little girl grew immensely. Tears slid down her cheeks as she scrolled through the album, through the actual, physical proof that just served to show how much she had come to care for their daughter. 

The brunette still had no clue how she could hold so much love for someone so incredibly small, but she did.

The Spaniard stood suddenly, handing Ingrid’s phone back to her before she walked back into their apartment. It was the number one rule, not to move a sleeping baby, but Mapi did not care, not right now. 

She picked Elena up from her crib, tucking her daughter into her arms tightly, praying that she could always protect her from the world as much as she could right now. 

The baby stayed fast asleep, little hot puffs of air hitting her in the chest, where Elena was positioned. Mapi bowed her head downward, her tears dripping from her nose and onto her daughter's perfect little head as she pressed kiss after kiss to the crown of her head. 

“Te amo mucho,” Mapi murmured, as she wondered if finally, finally, she was enough. 

“She feels safe with you,” Ingrid commented from her spot leaning against the doorway of the nursery. The center back looked up for a moment, her eyes thick with tears. “She is always falling asleep with you, always soothed by you. She feels safe with you, amor. She feels safe with her Mami, and that is enough, you are enough,” Ingrid emphasized, and Mapi struggles to keep her composure as her lungs spasm, burning from the effort of keeping her cries quiet. 

Elena opens her eyes carefully, blinking up at Mapi with sleep ridden eyes. 

“Mami,” she rasps, reaching out for the Spaniard. Mapi cradles her daughter close to her, pressing her face into Elena’s skin as the little girl giggles lightly, reaching out to pull at a lock of brunette hair. 

The Spaniard cannot bring herself to care as she pulls the little girl back, looking her firmly in the eyes. Elena smiles back at her, content and happy, safe and secure. 

“Te amo tanto. No puedo vivir sin ti,” Mapi murmured to her daughter, as she felt a part of her heart settle. 

Maybe it hadn’t always been the most natural thing to her, to hold a child or change a diaper or play with a baby. 

But what she made up for in lack of skill in the beginning, she had made up for with an entirely overwhelming amount of love. Because no matter what she did not know, there was absolutely nothing that Mapi would not do for her little girl. 

And maybe, at its core, that had always been enough. 

Maybe all they needed for everything to make sense was a little love, and a very long nap. 

[meanbossart]

How did your DU drow react when he got told he had to kill his spouse? and then when he went to wake up Astarion and get tied up? I think I just wanna know how your DU drow mentally/emotionally is doing during and after that part, and when talking to Astarion afterward, I'm a sucker for hearing about those deep kinds of moments (hopefully that makes sense?) Also, how did your DU react when you met Kressa Bonedaughter and learned all about what was done to him (again, I know none of the companions really comment on literally something horrible being told such a shame, honestly) but how would you say or think that Astarion and Shadowheart might have reacted hearing that info? Again, thank you for all your art and for answering these questions! PS: (I really don't care if your answer is super long; I WILL EAT IT UP)

Sooo for the first question, I wanna preface by saying that I personally don't think their relationship was that in depth yet, at that point. Yes, DU drow enjoyed Astarion's company and relied on him in a similar way which he relied on Shadowheart. And also yes, Astarion saw DU drow as the first person who ever took him and his agency seriously - but I think feelings were still in their infancy. DU drow's mind was a mess through and through; he drank constantly to keep his urge at bay, he kept his distance from everyone most of the time, and when he did seek out comfort in either Shadowheart or Astarion (the non-sexual kind, they didn't really fuck at all), it was a kind of primal instinct and desperate longing for companionship - if you asked him if he was in love with anyone, however, he would have said no.

Similarly, while I think Astarion's act 2 confession is sincere, I also think that he's being sincere when he says that he doesn't know what you are yet. You're not really a lover, but you aren't a victim, either; what you are is a person who he would rather not have to murder eventually, and as someone who has had their empathy squeezed out throughout the course of two centuries, that's meaningful enough. He may fantasize about the best case scenario for you two - but he has no expectations that whatever this is will last. But it is nice, for the time being.

So the "murder your darling" scene, rather than a proof of love and trust, is to me the turning point where:

A) DU drow has to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't have as much control over the Urge as he thought, and B) When Astarion snaps out of his care-free, just-go-with-the-flow nature around his plan and this relationship. They both realize they bit off more than they could chew and are now caught in each other's crossfire.

Which is to say that I don't read Astarion's words of comfort to him as entirely honest - specially when you compare it to certain dialogue deliveries later in the game. I think he's still, to a degree, telling you what you need to hear so that you hold out for just a bit longer and kill Cazador. You probably can't be together forever as he idly fantasized about once or twice, when he let his mind wander - but god damn it, he needs to at least be free, and it seems like you have bloodlust to spare to make that happen.

Meanwhile, DU drow finally comes to confront the fact that he is not in control. Doesn't matter how hard he tries or how much he drinks, the urge will do to him as it will, and when it wishes. It stops being fun and it gets scary, from that moment on.

But here's who did stop it: Astarion. Where alcohol fell short and his willpower failed, Astarion stepped in.

So, more interesting than the scene itself to me, is how from that point on DU drow would have no choice but put his trust entirely on the vampire to control him. He ties him up, he keeps an eye on him, he has full spoken-word permission to kill him if necessary - he is forced to be as vulnerable at humanly possible under his hand, every night. Regardless of whether or not DU drow realizes that Astarion is doing it for his own reasons, he doesnt care, because Astarion has now become his rock and his bondage - hell, if Astarion does have a reason to keep him alive that's all the better; someone else might just slit DU drow's throat and be done with the concern altogether.

And so, it's only from that point on that DU drow truly starts to see Astarion as an equal, and even a partner. He's thinking that, if his whole life has to be like this, at least he has someone who can handle it.

Astarion, meanwhile, I believe only comes to truly consider (and wish for) DU drow's freedom after he's free from Cazador - and after he bestows that freedom upon his siblings and the other spawn. That's when he finally understands the length of DU drow's devotion to him and the value of freewill as a concept- and how he wants it for both of them, instead of being content with his own.

Not to mention... I think in Astarion's mind he was 100% not going to survive Cazador LOL so when he succeeds he's like "oh shit I guess anything is fucking possible huh. Yeah fuck it lets go fight your dad, also I've decided I want you for realsies, now."

Anyways, can you believe I thought this was gonna be a short ask. Here have a doodle I made while thinking about all this bullshit:

As for Kressa, I got an ask about that before but I can't find it now LOL to summarize; he was pissed, angered, and in a far more personal level embarrassed to have had his dirty laundry aired (AKA, victimized) in that way in front of the others - but this isn't something he would have expressed outwardly, and I think both Shadowheart and Astarion would have known better than to inquire him about it. It's not really something he would have sought out comfort for in anyone, so, I think the subject died as soon as Kressa did. In this case, their lack of commentary was completely appropriate - If they had reached out in any way (which would have been, in my opinion, completely out of character) DU drow would have shut them out with a quickness.

[wolfiesmoon]

What a fate

Ran x good girl! reader

this is a part 2 to my fic "i can't sleep", dont worry i'm feeding ur families they will no longer starve. apparently people are really into ran considering how many notes that fic of mine got (and who can blame them honestly)

unrelated but i cant believe it took me this long to get into housewife radio by ghost i love the horror vibes because of course i do

You've had a turbulent few days recently. Ever since you agreed to do that stupid dare Ran hasn't left you alone.

He did promise to do so but you didn't think he was actually serious about "making you his". How could you let this happen?

Things turned out completely opposite to what you expected, though. Instead of dragging you to his gang meeting to beat the crap out of you, he's taking you there to threaten his lackeys that if they even so much as lay a finger on his girl (you), they'd feel hell on earth.

You suppose that it's nice that he wants to protect you but you feel extremely out of place and uncomfortable at a gang meeting of all places.

Your parents think you're studying at a library right now. Somehow, you feel like you're commiting a crime.

You also met his brother at that meeting.

It seems being a good-for-nothing delinquent runs in their family. You feel sorry for their parents. If they even have them.

"Wow, I would've never thought the nerd would be your type." Rindou teased Ran. Actually, maybe it was both of you he was teasing.

"She's the one that kissed me first." Ran smirked at you.

"You're the worst. Both of you." you furrowed your brows, not finding either of them amusing in the slightest.

"Your girlfriend hates you, man. Personally I would not put up with that." Rindou seemed disinterested, checking his nails as he said that.

"I am not his girlfriend, either!" you defended yourself but Ran just looked at you like he pitied you and Rindou looked like he didn't believe you.

"Right, okay, if you say so. You two have your lover's quarrel on your own. I'm going elsewhere." Rindou just casually left, leaving you all alone with Ran in an abandoned storage unit. Oh boy.

"Umm, I should get going- ack!" you felt your wrist getting grabbed, preventing you from leaving. There's your only exit up in smoke.

"Leaving so soon? But we haven't even had our fun yet." Ran smiled at you and you honestly felt scared at that moment. Oh no, you shouldn't have yelled back at him so daringly just now. Now he's going to beat the crap out of you and drop you off in front of your parents doorstep as a warning to never mess with his gang again.

He leaned in closer and you braced yourself for the pain, but instead of that you felt his lips on yours.

Kissing...?! Again?! Well, atleast it's better than a punch to the face... You can't believe it's come to a point where you're glad to get kissed by Ran.

But still, does he have to kiss you in the least romantic place possible? Even if you did have feelings for him you'd totally find this moment cringy.

"You suck at kissing." He comments heartily, pulling away.

"I'm not the one who kisses a new girl every day. Maybe I actually have some self-respect." You crossed your arms. He was your first kiss after all.

"Every night is an exaggeration. It's like, every week." You couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious, even if you saw his expression.

"Oh, wow. Glad to know that I'll get cheated on in about 3 days. Way to make your 'girlfriend' hate you less."

"I'll stop for you." He smiled.

"Uh huh, whatever." You rolled your eyes.

Though, his kisses are actually kind of making you.... No, no! Don't fall for that! You can't believe you almost admitted that you'd fall for him if he kissed you more.

.

"How's it going with your new boyfriend, girl?"

"God, do not call him that." You held your forehead in frustration.

"I think he's taken a liking to you." Your friend nudged you, pointing at Ran who was sitting on the other side of the cafeteria and smiling at you as he ate.

"Great." You said sarcastically, immediately looking away when your eyes met.

"See? It ended up well. Now you have a hot bad boy boyfriend." Your friend kinda wished she'd done it instead of daring you.

"Didn't I just... ugh! I don't think my parents would agree with you." You placed your forehead on the table, groaning. "You date him if you want a bad boy so bad. But I hate you for dragging me into this." Your voice was slightly muffled.

"Yeah, we'll see. You'll be the happiest couple ever in like, two months."

You raised your head, looking back at Ran once again. You're in quite the pickle, aren't you? The next thing you know, you'll fall for Haitani Ran.

How scarily exciting.

.

"Hop on." Ran stopped on his bike in front of the library. How he knew you had a study session there today? Don't worry about the details.

Another motorcycle ride... You feel like you barely survived the last one.

"My parents expect me to be home in 10 minutes." You crossed your arms. You weren't lying, either.

"Who cares? Live a little." Ran rolled his eyes playfully. Clearly he isn't going to let you back down.

"I'll do it, but only if you keep it to ten minutes." He was right, backing down isn't your thing. You wonder how much resisting him you could get away with if you weren't special to him.

Special to him... huh.

"Killjoy." He insulted you lightly as you sat down in front of him. Again, neither of you are wearing a helmet. This is the last time you'll let it slide.

"I prefer to not get scolded endlessly." You held onto him tightly because you knew what was coming and didn't want to almost fall off the bike again. He felt proud when you held onto him like that.

Like you're finally his. To be honest, he didn't really care much for you until you kissed him out of nowhere like that. How bold of you, the top-of-the-class rule stickler. But he likes that. And that's why he decided to make you his.

Isn't the fact that he lets you ride on his motorcycle enough to see that?

You felt the wind blowing against your face as you set off. Now that you feel it again, it doesnt feel too bad. It's kind of nice, actually. And Ran is warm, too.

The scenery moves past the two of you and strangely, you feel really calm and at peace. It feels like your parents don't exist in this moment and that you can just... live, and feel the adrenaline of the high speed.

This is so scarily exciting.

"You look relaxed." He said, looking down at you.

"I am. And look at the road, will you?" You scolded him but your voice was still relaxed. You look up at him again.

He actually isn't that bad looking. You kind of understand why some girls would fall for him. You, on the other hand...

Are unfortunately befalling the same fate.

He didn't say anything but you had a feeling he knew you were staring.

"You look like you're in love."

"What?! How would you even know?!" You looked back at the road, hiding your face from him. You can't help but get defensive of such a thing.

God, you hate that he's right.

[rottingparts]

I saw the mirage imagine and It was so good like it got me barking. But anyways, can I have a smut request of mirage. Like, overstimulating or teasing mirage until he can't stop jerking his hips Or or or if your comfy you can you add like teasing on the neck too??! For example, umm, like reader putting there mouth on their wires and making them cry for more??!

If you're comfortable doing this. do it , please do it

OMG NOW YOU GOT ME BARKING!!! This is more teasing than anything, and it was supposed to be like a few paragraphs and ended up longer than that, and honestly I could have made it longer... Hope you enjoy, sweet nonnie! -Rot

Summary: You have a great idea, and Mirage is intrigued, even if you won't tell him what it is.

WARNINGS: 18+! MINORS DNI! Teasing, grinding, human!reader, Dom!Reader (kinda), Mirage is a switch, no specifications of reader's gender in any way

Word Count: 800

“I wanna try something.”

Your words were innocent and sweet, but it was definitely not a question. Mirage seemed to get a hint that whatever was on your mind was not innocent and was on board almost immediately. He did not ask what you had in mind, he only asked what you needed.

“Sit down.” You smiled at him.

“On the ground?”

“No, on the wall,” You snorted at your own answer. “Yes, on the ground, silly.”

“No need for sarcasm,” Mirage pouted. “But, since I love you so much, I will do what you say.”

‘Yeah,’ you smiled at Mirage, him having no clue what you were thinking, ‘I’m sure it’s ‘cause you love me and not because you’re horny.’ Once Mirage sat down, you walked over to him. You looked over at him and cocked your head.

“You got me kicking my feet and shit,” Mirage smiled at you, his feet moving back and forth as he sat down and looked at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“When is Noah coming back?” Your eyes met Mirage’s optics and he thought for a moment.

“One hour.”

You nodded, still not answering Mirage’s question. Mirage did not ask again though, he trusted whatever you were doing would be fun. You walked closer to Mirage and you could tell he was growing more excited. His feet moved a little faster, and once you took position, they froze.

You straddled the Autobot as best you could. Your eyes looked up at his wide, bright blue optics and you gave him a sweet smile. “I want you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Mirage seemed stunned, “You always want me to touch you-”

“This is about you right now, baby. Keep your hands at your sides, or at least to yourself, until I give the okay,” You waited for him to nod, “okay?”

Mirage nodded and you gave a quick nod of acknowledgement back. You rested your hands on Mirage’s shoulders and pushed yourself up ever so slightly. Mirage watched with anticipation as you positioned yourself over him. His optics never left you, and you did not want them to.

Without saying a word, you started to slowly grind against him. Your eyes moved from his chest plate and up to his optics, and he looked like his spark was going to stop. His fingers twitched against the ground. He wanted to do nothing more than touch you, but Mirage listened well enough when it came to you and pleasure.

“You’re practically giving me a lap dance,” Mirage groaned, “And I can’t touch you?”

“Trust the process,” You kept your eyes on him. “And, feel free to uh, help yourself relieve any pressure if you need to.” Your movements did not falter. And neither did, Mirage’s. He was quick to get his spike out. “But-” Your movements stopped, “Don’t touch yourself, either.”

Mirage looked like he was going to explode. “How am I supposed to-”

One of your hands left his shoulder and you leaned back, slightly. Your hand ran up his spike, so gently you were sure Mirage really would explode. Mirage whimpered and you grew hot. His whines filled the air as you would grind against him and touch him. You were being so gentle, too gentle.

Mirage’s hips jerked upwards and hit you as you were coming down. You smiled to yourself, happy with the hold you had on Mirage. Your hand brushed over his neck, not on purpose, but that was going to change. As soon as you touched the wires Mirage jerked again. An idea struck you and you smirked to yourself. Mirage could tell something other than him was coming.

You leaned up, your hand moving from his spike and back to his shoulder. You were still grinding, mostly to help yourself at this point, because you knew what you were about to do was going to be all Mirage needed. Your lips hit the wires. You could feel Mirage twitch, his entire body jerked. His hips bucked up again and you smiled against him.

Your lips grazed the wires, a soft kiss being placed against them before you pulled back. Mirage whimpered again, close to begging. You just knew it. Your breath hit the wires and Mirage was becoming uncontrollably horny. Worse than before. Your lips pressed to them again and a loud cry escaped from Mirage. You smiled against him and nuzzled his neck, his hips bucking into you several times before you spoke.

“Okay.” You stayed still, lips still on the wires.

“‘Okay’ what?” Mirage was frantic, voice almost cracking.

“Touch me.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Mirage had the roles flipped. You were on the ground and Mirage was over you. You could feel Spike against your thigh. He stared down at you, ex-venting heavily. “C’mon,” Your voice was soft, “We gotta do this before Noah shows back up.”

Mirage was ready to fucking go, “I don’t even care if he finds us at this point. I hope we’re still going at it when he gets back!”

You had wound Mirage up and you couldn’t be more excited with the results. You were going to need to do that more often.

[sku11s1asher]

neuvillette x male reader for soulmates au😞😞 enemies to lover trop to omg there both rivals but slowly fall inlove with each other😭

neuvillette x nb/male reader (soulmate au)

note: ermm ignore how long it took, i forgot to check inbox, also i didn’t go too much into enemies more like haters to lovers lol (this is a long drabble bc i couldn’t think of any main prompts, enjoy it bc it really is long oops)

ooc neuv , suggestive , also they don’t really go in a order so yeah

fem dni

before finding out your soulmates (d1 haters frfr)

⋆ you and neuvillette seemed to argue over every little thing. if you breathed in his direction he’d mumble something under his breath, causing an argument.

⋆ everyone thought you both were dating, every single time you both even come close to each other theres some awkward sexual tension

⋆ he criticized every little thing you did, if said something a little wrong, he’d make fun of you, always having to run his mouth

⋆ now you personally didn’t really believe in soulmates because of how hard it is to find yours, to find your soulmate you have to actually touch them; not a touch as in accidentally graze but like an intimate type, a hug, etc.

⋆ if you are a attorney, you always would always drag on the case longer than it needs to be just to argue a little longer (you also did it to spend more time with him but, i won’t tell anyone your secret)

⋆ neuvillette and you had some weird type of rivalry, you guys knew each other for a while, every single time you felt as neuvillette liked someone you ended up taking them from him and he did the same to you.

⋆ at the same time, he didn’t honestly know how to feel about you, your personality was so different from his. he tried his best to stay away from you but, clearly it didn’t work.

⋆ his hatred for you was also contributed because of your friends, the people you hang around, the not so liked people in fontaine.

⋆ he felt as you were a competition for him at the same time; you were a little too good at your job (whatever you want it to be), now it may not necessarily be at his level but you were too good for his liking.

⋆ his emotions and feelings are all over the place. he couldn’t decide if he hated you, didn’t care, or was jealous.

⋆ neuvillette always looked at you, even if it was a look of hatred, love, admiration, anything. he always had some type of eye on you, he felt some time of connection with you.

⋆ if you ever got in trouble, he took the blame for it, which was odd as he wouldn’t really care if you were someone else.

⋆ fontaine was raining really bad, that day happened to be the day you got injured.

⋆ you had just got back from sumeru which isn’t the safest place, your injuries weren’t thatttt bad but, they weren’t the prettiest.

⋆ once you got a little healed and we’re allowed to leave, you saw him. he wasn’t doing anything important just looking at the melusine.

⋆ you walked up to him to annoy and tease him, most people were conflicted if you were enemies or lovers.

⋆ you weren’t expecting his reaction though, instead of arguing with you, he hugged you. you were frozen for a moment but eventually hugged him back, which is how you found out you were soulmates.

once you find out you’re soulmates ;

⋆ he always has some part of him touching you, even if it’s his pinkie, he needs the comfort of you.

⋆ soulmates share a mark with each other, you both have (design of your choice idk), every single time you get intimate with him, he always kisses and loves on it.

⋆ he loves praising you, if you win a court case or do something really good in your job, expect a night full of praise.

⋆ you both didn’t announce your relationship with anyone though, you both give sly comments every chance you get.

⋆ neuvillette loves you though, your the only person who gets him to act the way he does.

⋆ he’s always had a soft spot for you, before you were soulmates and when you were hating on each other every chance you both had.

⋆ once you both got into a huge argument, it was raining hard, you felt bad because he’s your bf/hubby

⋆ when you walked into his office and saw him crying you didn’t know what to do. he never got better with his emotions and expressing them with you.

⋆ “baby, i’m sorry, you were right i was wrong, okay?” you said to him while walking up to his desk. all he did was look at you and wipe his tears, not giving you a response.

⋆ he truly was the prettiest crier you’ve ever met, it was kind of a turn on, but keep your mind out the gutters your bf is cryin!

⋆ you both cuddle a lot, after you argue. he never liked having serious arguments with you though, it brought him some type of sadness.

⋆ just overall, he’s an lovin boyfriend (and hopefully husband), he’s the best soulmate you could’ve ever asked for!

⋆ ps; he still doesn’t like your friends (lyney)

[dreamyinception-world]

𝒜 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉

pairing: Fem Gamer!reader + Jung Wooyoung

w/c: 2k

Genre: Established Relationship, Smut, Slight Angst (woo is a sad boy for two secs)

Summary: On a day of virtual gaming and fun with your friends, a monthly tradition that you all enjoy, your boyfriend arrives home with some small favor that you simply can’t deny. 

Tws: Swearing/Foul Language

Sws: Pussy Eating (Woo goes mf IN my guy), Sensory Stimulation/Kink, Hair Pulling, Teasing, Overstimulation, Oral Fixation, Thigh Smothering, Pleasing Sub Woo (for the most part at least), Begging, Pussy Face Fuck, Slight Orgasm Denial

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: If the brain keeps cooking, let her cook as I always say. This is an idea that came to me randomly as I was getting ready in the morning. If anyone would like another part of this shot, please let me know! Otherwise enjoy and please let me know what you think. Thank you!

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕚𝕕 + ℕ𝕠𝕟𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕! ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥!

As a reminder, my work is only for those who are eighteen years or older. Anyone who attempts to interact with my work or blog who is underage will be blocked immediately. You have been warned.

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 2024 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

☆ . ° .*₊° . ☆⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙𓆩⟡𓆪⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙. • ☆ . ° ☆

“Hey, Y/N! You missed your shot! What happened?”

“S-Sorry! My computer’s acting weird!” 

Your fingers tightened around the ridges of your controller, trying to keep your breathing leveled and your body relaxed. 

You could only hope that you didn’t sound too weird on the other line where your friends were talking and having playful banter. 

It was game night after all, the titular moment of the month where everyone chooses their favorite game to play for a few hours to relax and unwind from the hustle and bustle of life and its demanding nature.

It had become somewhat a tradition after completing college and going on with your separate lives to keep in touch somehow— even if it meant through pixelated hand to hand combat.

Unfortunately for your friends, and consequently yourself, they didn’t have an oh so loving yet sometimes mischievous boyfriend named Wooyoung to subdue.

Genuinely, the moment of pure suspicion should have come when he entered the room 15 minutes ago, an all too sweet smile lingering on his face as rolled over beside you. With a phone in his hand and otherwise rapt attention to the shooter game your crew had indulged in, you had honestly thought nothing of it.

It wasn’t until about less than halfway through your match that you began to notice his demeanor become a bit..off out of your peripherals. 

His glances at you began to linger a bit longer, his eyes combed down your figure with longer glances towards your favorite fluffy panda shorts and matching over the knee socks. 

He was debating something, but you were too absorbed in the game with your mic turned on to ask him.

It wasn’t until his hand fell onto your thigh, brushing his thumb against it that you knew something was up. 

Once the first match finally came to a close, you excused yourself and muted your mic.

“Baby, do you need to ask me something? You were waiting so long, I’m sorry.”

The boy perked and you almost immediately noticed the way the top of his cheeks began to tinge a light shade of pink.

“Mm, no it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you away from your game-” His words were cut off by a small, loving peck with a warm smile. You cupped his cheeks, hearing your friends chattering on the other line through your headsets.

“It’s okay, I have some time. What is it, Woobie?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his lip with eyes flickering between your computer screen and your face. The longer he took to respond, the more concerned you started to become.

Were you playing so much that he felt nervous to ask for your attention?

“Wooyoung? Are you-”

“I wanted to taste you.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out. “H-Huh?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat, shifting himself in his computer chair, his eyes glued to the ground.

“We haven’t messed around or anything in a while— I know you’ve been busy and so have I so it’s been difficult for us to both be in the mood and not too tired for it to happen.” He took in a short inhale and looked directly into your eyes.

“But I miss you so badly and it’s driving me crazy..please?”

It took a minute for your mind to system reboot after his confession before you cupped his cheeks, pressing a more lingering kiss onto his lips. When the two of you separated, you searched his face for any lingering feelings besides the evident lust and desire.

My poor baby..

“Yo where the hell is she? I wanna start the next round~”

“I don’t know! Y/N! Are you there?”

“Sorry guys! I needed to help Wooyoung with something. I’ll be there in just a sec!” You released your finger off the speaker button, turning your attention back to your patient lover, waiting for your response still.

With fingers combing lovingly through his hair, you give him a small nod of approval. He almost immediately shakes his head, taking your hand and presses open mouth kisses to the back of them.

“I need to hear you say it. Do you want me to please you?”

You bite the inside of your lip, feeling yourself throb at the sensation of his tongue running slowly against your knuckles. He doesn’t push you for a response, leisurely continuing his actions down your hand to your fingertips.

He fixes you with a calm, yet sweltering stare, finding back a laugh or smile at the way you seemingly shrink back in response.

“O-Okay you can. Just don’t make me mess up too hard on my game. I d-don’t want the others to-AH!”

Wooyoung barely wastes any time after being given the green light, kicking his chair back towards his desk after grabbing the cushion from off of it. He finds his way comfortably on the floor, pulling you forward by your legs and stirring a yelp out of you. He mumbles something about how good you smell and the cuteness of your outfit whilst simultaneously yanking your bottoms off in one fell swoop.

That’s how you got here, with your one leg being held off to the side and the other perched onto your needy boyfriend’s shoulder, panties “unfortunately” being ripped and his tongue dragging against your clit.

You were silently ordered by his glance and a raise of an eyebrow to continue playing your game, biting back a small moan that was threatening to fall past your lips as he glided his tongue up and down your whole core.

He let out a small hum, not loud enough to be heard by anyone but you and him, reaffirming his grip possessively as he languidly spit on your clit. He watched it slowly trickle down before slurping around the slightly puffy bud.

Your muscles tightened in his grasp, mouth drawing open into a small ‘o’ with half lidded eyes, struggling to keep yourself focused enough to follow the orders given by your team.

Every single ounce of the game contrasted with the pure torture that you were being subjected to, albeit by your own approval.

And of course tonight was the one night that he decided to take his time to make every string keeping you together would slowly begin to snap.

He moved his hands up to your waistline, keeping himself pressed against you and rendering your lower half completely at will to him, shifting your dripping cunt up and down against his tongue with dark eyes. 

“Take the shot, Y/N! Take it!”

You practically slammed your thumb against the button of your controller, the boom of your weapon cracking into your ears though you barely registered if your aim was even correct. Your body slid a quarter down, controller barely hanging on one hand as you gripped the top of Wooyoung’s hair and rolled down in unison.

“M-Mm!” You pressed your lips together, removing your hand to shakily press a button on your headphones and shoving them off your head with the mic turned away from your mouth, sweat dripping down your chin as you fought the urge to beg.

His lips upturned at the sight of your disheveled look.

Not yet, just a little more.

You held back a whine when his speed slowed, believing that maybe he was going to take mercy on you with the kisses pressed to your inner thighs, and turned your attention back to the game.

Though your movements were slowed from your head nearly spinning, you continued on with the match.

Moments later, he had his eyes on you again, sucking one of your lips hard in his mouth and letting it out with a loud pop. 

Before you could even begin to lightly scold him, he pushed down on your mound with his palm and flicked his tongue quickly against your clit before groaning and burying his face into you, sucking on your clit hungrily and messily. 

He ignored the mix of drool and juices that ran down his chin and dripped onto the chair. His only care in the world was the way your eyes immediately screwed shut and your chair creaked in protest from being bent backward. 

Wooyoung’s eyes nearly rolled at the sensations of your fluffy socks brushing against his ears and pressure of your thighs around his head, brushing his tongue against your entrance before abusing her swollen bud between his lips.

“W-Woo, p-please!” The cry slipped past your lips without a second thought, unable to control the tremble of your thighs and flexing of your stomach muscles as you inched closer to your release.

“You don’t have to beg baby.” He purred, taking the short second to breathe with lips shimmering.

“I’ll give you anything you want and more.”

He dipped his head back down, reveling in the filthy noises that were erupting from your mouth as he slurped loudly, nodding his head and tightening his hold on you hard to keep you from running away from him.

You’ve almost completely forgotten about your game now, instead chasing the sweet high that has you reaching for anything to steady yourself. 

With one hand gripping the head of the chair and the other one his head, your whole body jolts with a sharp and shaky moan, cumming on his face. 

He wickedly lets out a muffled chuckle, eyes falling closed to collect his prize against your feeble pushes of his head and whines of desperation. Satisfaction on his face, he finally releases you and earns a swift smack to the back of his head.

“Y-You said you weren’t going to distract me too much from my game!”

“I didn’t say anything.” His voice dripped with lust still, moving himself up to your face with a lazy smile. Your eyes narrowed at him with an arm slung around his shoulders, allowing him to enjoy your deep kisses and tongue before you tugged him back by his hair.

“Are you going to punish me? Do it. Please?” You shook your head in disbelief, seeing him smile wide and laugh.

“Yo, Y/N! At least mute your mic if you’re going to have a live session with your boyfriend!”

You push Wooyoung off of you and scramble to slide your headsets back on, only to realize that the button you pressed was for noise cancellation, not muting.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe I had to be subjected to that! And it was in the middle of our game?!”

“Next time, just tap out of the round!”

A chorus of laughter erupted over the call mixed in with you cursing them out through stutters and your burning cheeks, yelling for them to stop teasing you.

Snapping your head around to the doorway, Wooyoung made himself comfortable leaning against the frame, swiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and lightly sucking on it with a smirk.

“You are so fucking dead.” 

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @atiny-piratequeen @atiny-dazzlinglight @kimnamshiks @little-lazuli @catnipacid

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

[atlabeth]

(they all say that) it gets better | luke castellan

bleedin' me dry for context (this is that reader's origin story!!)

summary: a look into your unclaimed year.

a/n: does it still count as fluff if you already know it doesn’t end well? idk but i’m having fun writing for this pair so it’s okay. i hope you guys are enjoying reading them!! this ended up becoming a hell of a lot longer than i thought it would be but these kind of one shots are my faves to write lol

title from teenage dream by olivia rodrigo bc apparently guts teenage angst works very well for a demigod who feels like they're worthless and unwanted for a good period of time!! shoutout to the gods

wc: 11.4k JESUS

warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. typical anger at the gods, but luke is actually pretty sweet! crazy. mostly hurt/comfort, reader is going through it at the beginning (mentions of injuries and almost dying), honestly she's going through it the whole time but luke is very nice to her lol. barely proofread bc proofing 34 pages is a nightmare !!

It was your first day as a demigod and you were already off to a bad start. 

You didn’t remember much, obviously. There was a lot of stumbling, barely held up by your satyr as you crossed the border, and then full on collapsing. Somehow you managed to stay conscious all the way to the infirmary, enough to hear shocked murmurs from the people-like blobs around you and terrified, whispered affirmations from your satyr as he ran along with whoever was carrying you. 

You didn’t remember much. But you do remember thinking what a shameful existence it would be to die at fourteen. 

And now you were sitting in an uncomfortable cot, staring at the wall and counting divots. The first half of your visit was only there in flashes as you drifted in and out of consciousness, but now, unfortunately, you were fully awake. You belatedly wondered how many other kids began their camp life with a stay at the infirmary. 

The thought was dashed from your head as you jolted and cried out in sudden pain, and you shot daggers with your glare at the boy next to you.  

“Sorry.” The boy fixing you up was about your age, and he almost seemed to glow from within. “You dislocated your shoulder—I was popping it back into place.”

“You could have warned me,” you seethed.

“I did,” he said, and when he placed his hands on your shoulder they actually did glow. “You just weren’t listening.”

“...Sorry,” you said after a moment. “I’m having a rough day.” 

He shook his head with a slight smile. “It’s expected.” 

“It’ll be okay,” your satyr said, and some of the tension left your shoulders as you looked over at Tate. He’d been by your side for the past two weeks of disasters, and you’d saved each other’s lives more times than you could count. You were just thankful he didn’t have to watch you die. “Jace is one of camp’s best healers. You’re in good hands.” 

You nodded, not wanting to cause any more problems, so you bit your lip and bit your tongue and let him heal the rest of your injuries in silence. He was done soon enough, and you could feel both their eyes on you as you rifled through your backpack. Thankfully, Tate brought it in as you were dying. Your own blood stained the nylon. 

“How do you feel?” Tate asked anxiously. 

“Better,” you said, tearing your eyes away from it as you continued making sure all your belongings were still there. “A lot better. Not like there’s much competition.”

Tate chuckled, and Jace picked up a small bag from the bedside table and handed it to you—it looked like there were little pieces of fudge inside. “Here.” 

“What’s this?” you asked as you took it. 

“Ambrosia,” he said. “Wait a few hours before you have a piece, and only have a little if you feel a lot of pain. I already gave you nectar while you were out, and the last thing we need is you burning up.” 

You looked at Tate with raised eyebrows and he smiled a bit. “Ambrosia and nectar are the food of the gods. It heals demigods in small portions, but take too much and you’ll get a fever. Worst case scenario, you’ll literally burn up from the inside.” 

“Oh,” you said, and you stuffed the bag into your pack before zipping it up. “I’ll… I’ll wait.” 

“Probably a good idea,” Jace said, and he looked over at your satyr as he stood up. “I’ve gotta get back to my sword-fighting lessons. Can you give her a tour?” 

He shook his head. “I have to debrief with Chiron and Mr. D. There were some… rough things on the road.” Tate looked at you. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes— are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Do your thing. I’ll look around some, then we’ll find each other later.” 

Tate nodded thankfully and went through an open door opposite your bed, and Jace gave you a tight smile as he started to put away all the medical supplies he used on you. You sighed, slung your bag over your shoulder, and walked out. 

You shut the door behind you and blinked rapidly as you tried to adjust to the sunlight. Then, you heard someone sigh. 

“Thank the gods you’re okay.” 

You turned to see a boy standing up from the wall. Dark curls hung just above his eyes, a contrast to his tanned skin, slightly red from exertion. He was wearing the same bright orange shirt that your healer was—Camp Halfblood, it said in curved text. He was far too pretty for his own good. 

“I’m the one who carried you in,” he said, and you realized you were frowning. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“Oh,” you said. “That’s… that’s nice of you.” 

“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten someone new,” he said. “Even longer since they’ve had such a dramatic entrance.” 

You shrugged. You didn’t exactly know what to say to this boy. “Sorry.” 

He paused for a moment, and then he nodded. “Not one for conversation. That’s fine.” 

“I did almost just die,” you said wryly. “I’m fresh out of icebreakers at the moment.” 

“Maybe I can help with that.” He held out his hand. “Luke Castellan. Head Counselor of the Hermes cabin, and apparent rescuer of damsels.” 

You huffed a laugh as you stared at him. “I’m a damsel?” 

“I’d say you were in as much distress as someone could be back there,” he said with a shrug. “I practically saved your life. I think that deserves a handshake.” 

The slightest bit of tension dissolved from your shoulders and you shook his hand. His smile grew. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, dropping his hand. “You were pretty rough when I found you.” 

“Better,” you said, though you grimaced a bit as you tested your shoulder, and you decided to switch your pack to your other side. “Whoever that guy in the infirmary is, he’s good.” 

Luke nodded. “Son of Apollo—they’ve got healing abilities. Very useful when we’re all constantly getting injured.” 

Your brows knit together. “So it really is all real.” 

“You were nearly dead on our doorstep, and from those claw marks I’m guessing it wasn’t just a bad fall.” Luke offered a wry smile. “I’m sure you’ve known it’s all real for a while.” 

“Of course,” you said. “It’s just weird to really know that it’s all real. To see all of you, really. Just knowing I’m not alone.” 

He nodded. “That’s the best thing about it, knowing you’re not alone.” He looked around at your surroundings—various campers chatting as they walked with each other (some glancing at you as they went by), distant shouts and cheers, and a perfectly blue sky matching the perfectly blue house you just left. 

“I’d say the worst thing about it is feeling like I still have no idea what’s going on,” you said. “Unless the gods exist just to be deadbeats. That’d be disappointing.” 

Luke actually laughed at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and you found yourself smiling a bit. “I can tell we’re gonna get along.” 

Your own smile returned—it was like his joy was infectious. “You think so?” 

“I know so,” he nodded. “Just… try not to throw the gods’ names around like that. They don’t like to be talked about unless they’re being revered.” 

You huffed. “Sounds like an interesting place.” 

“Camp Halfblood,” he provided, and he gestured around you with his hand. “Keeping young heroes safe for over three millennia.” 

“What,” you said wryly, “are you their PR guy?” 

Luke laughed and shook his head. “It’s something Chiron likes to say.”

“You’re the second person to mention Chiron,” you said. “Who exactly is he?” 

“You haven’t gotten a tour yet?” 

You gave him a look. “Come on. You carried me in. You think I could have gotten a tour between then and now?” 

“Fair,” he admitted, and he tilted his head. “I can give you one, if you’re so inclined.” 

“I said I would wait for Tate,” you said. “He’s my satyr— I figure I owe it to him.” 

“C’mon,” Luke said. “He’s meeting Chiron and Mr. D—that’ll take long enough on its own, and if we don’t get out of here soon enough, you’re gonna get dragged into a whole other conversation with them. At least this way, you can get a little bit of downtime before all the lore of this place is dropped on you.” 

You bit your lip, and then you sighed and nodded. “Fine. But it can’t take too long.” 

Luke smiled and held up three fingers. “Halfblood’s honor.” 

-

You didn’t know where to start.

There were far more people than you expected, not nearly enough beds for all of them, and half were talking and a quarter were fighting and the others were just completely unfazed. All you could do when you walked in was stare.

“You get used to it,” Luke said, glancing over at you. “Everyone’s nice, I promise—just keep a hand on your pockets.” 

You frowned. “Why?” 

He gave you a crooked smile. “Hermes is the god of thieves. We learn by experience in this cabin.” 

Your hands instinctively reached back to the pockets of your jeans, despite the fact that you hardly had anything to your name. “Why do they put the new, naive kids in here again?” 

“God of travellers, too—all are welcome.” Luke saw your hand shoot to your pocket and laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone mess with you too much—for now, at least.” 

“Oh, good,” you said lightly. “The hazing doesn’t start until later.” 

Luke smiled as he continued to guide you through the cabin, nodding to and greeting campers with equal parts names and handshakes as he walked past them. You got just as many stares as Luke did hellos, and your skin crawled at the attention. 

“Why are they all looking at me?” you whispered to him. 

“Like I said, you’re the first new camper in a while.” Luke glanced at you. “News spreads fast, especially in this wreck of a place.” 

“It’s not that bad,” you said , but your grip tightened on your backpack strap. “Just very busy.”

“That’s what happens when they shove everyone in here,” Luke said. “All are welcome means all are welcome—Hermes kids, unclaimed kids, and kids of minor gods.”

You frowned. “Minor gods don’t have cabins?” 

“This place is as much for us as it is in honor of the gods,” he said. “Twelve cabins for twelve Olympians. They don’t see it as a problem, therefore we can’t see it as a problem.” 

You decided to bite your tongue, but you couldn’t hide your sigh. “I guess I’m gonna be here for the time being.” 

He looked you up and down, and all you could think was that you must look like an absolute disaster. “I’m guessing you fall into the unclaimed.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, a sad attempt at a smile. “Yeah, but I just got here—I bet my mom doesn’t even know it yet. Gods are busy.”

“They’re also omniscient,” Luke said wryly. “I’m sure she could have claimed you the second you crossed the border. Your parent could’ve given you a little divine intervention and kept you from nearly dying on the hill.”

“Well, I’m here for now,” you said with a bit too much force, and your nails dug into your palms. “So do you mind showing me around?” 

Luke stared at you for a moment before he smiled. “‘Course not. I can also give you a quick tour of camp too, if you haven’t already gotten one.”

You shook your head. “Only the infirmary.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “you heal up well.”

“I don’t think that’s a credit to me,” you said. “I think it’s whatever magical drink that healer gave me while he was trying to bring me back. Tasted like pecan pie.”

“Nectar,” he said as he started walking, and you followed behind him. “Drink  of the gods that heals demigods in small portions. It tastes like your favorite food—same as ambrosia.” He stopped in an empty corner and looked at you. “You like pecans?”

You shrugged, suddenly self conscious. “My dad makes it the best.”

“I hope you’ll be able to get the real thing soon,” he said, and then he gestured with a flourish at the same empty corner. “Welcome to your new home.”

You stared at him. “This is the floor.”

“We’re a little overbooked,” Luke said sheepishly. “If it makes you feel better, we’ve got sleeping bags. And this is a top tier corner. Quieter than the others.”

“…Great,” you said. “I feel very welcome.”

“I’m sorry.” To his credit, he sounded like he meant it. “Bunch of unclaimed kids, couple kids of minor gods, couple Hermes kids—it all kinda adds up to a mess.”

“...It’ll be better than camping,” you said, though mostly to yourself as you took your bag off your shoulder and let it thud to the ground. 

“Hey,” Luke said, and his voice was softer, “it’ll be okay. With any luck, your parent’ll notice you now that you’re at camp, and you’ll be claimed before you know it.” 

“I hope so,” you murmured. 

“Luke, who’s the new girl?” 

A boy with curls just as good as Luke’s walked up and clapped him on the back, smiling at you in a way that instantly set you at ease. He also wore the orange camp shirt, with long tan sleeves below that he’d pushed up to his forearms. He had kind eyes. 

Luke said your name, his own smirk on his lips as he looked back at you. “You’ve probably heard about her dramatic entrance by now, but she’s the newest resident of the Hermes cabin.”

“Unclaimed or your sibling?” he asked. 

“...Unclaimed,” you said yourself. You hadn’t even been here for more than two hours and it already felt like your own brand of shame.  

He repeated your name with a nod and held out his hand. “I’m Chris,” he said. “Fellow unclaimed kid.”

A little bit less of a scarlet letter, at least. You swallowed your budding insecurity and shook his hand. “Sounds like a shitty club to be in.”

He snorted. “You’re telling me.”

“How— how long has it been?” you asked hesitantly, almost afraid to know the answer. 

His lips pressed into a tight smile. “Couple years.” 

“Gods,” you murmured. You didn’t know if you’d be able to wait that long. It had been hard enough already growing up without one—if your mother was just out of reach after all this time, you would surely lose your mind. 

“Don’t worry,” Chris said, his expression softening a bit. “It won’t take that long for you. I can tell.” 

“That’s what Luke said,” you responded wryly. “Do I give off a vibe that says ‘I’m unwanted, but not for too long’?” 

Luke laughed and shook his head. “I promise, it’s all gonna be okay. I’ve been the counselor here for a couple months—kids get claimed all the time. I bet you’re next on the list.” 

“Maybe,” you said. You didn’t believe it as much as they did—if they did at all. 

You heard the door open and your head automatically turned to the noise, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment as Tate came through, slightly out of breath. You stared at Luke—he said thirty minutes at least. He just shrugged. 

“I figured you would be here,” Tate said, his chest rising and falling just so as he walked—trotted?—inside. “You didn’t exactly wait.” 

You opened your mouth to speak up, but Luke beat you, already putting on a charming smile. “Sorry. We got to talking, and then I offered to show her around the Hermes cabin. Just so she  could put her things down, y’know.” 

“‘Course,” Tate nodded. “That— that was probably a good idea. Would have been bad if you got lost or something.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you went to pick your bag up. “Luke said you would be talking for a lot longer— I was going to come back after I was done with this.”

Tate shook his head. That nervous energy from the worst parts of the road was back, and you wondered how badly the talk with Chiron and Mr. D went. “No, it was a good idea. Better than you getting lost around camp or caught up with some troublemakers. Thanks, Luke.” 

“‘Course,” he said. 

“Not sure she’s in much better hands with Luke,” Chris said wryly. “He’s head troublemaker in the cabin of troublemakers.” 

Luke just chuckled and shook his head. “It’s her first day. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” 

You were only able to glance at Luke for a moment before your attention was drawn back to Tate as he gestured outside with his head. “Chiron’s waiting outside. He wants to talk to you some before the tour.” 

And now you had to deal with it too. “...Great,” you said. You set your bag back on the ground, in your newly coveted corner.  

“It’ll be fine,” Tate promised. “You already went through Hades to get here— he’s not gonna pile on you more. That’s why Mr. D is back at the Big House.” 

This time, you did look at Luke. Thankfully, he understood. 

“Dionysus,” he explained. “He’s our camp director.” 

You blinked. “The god?” 

“Yep,” he nodded. “Punishment from Zeus. Not the worst gig, but he’s… interesting.” 

“Great,” you repeated, because you didn’t feel like processing that at the moment, and you looked back at Tate. “You’ll be with me, right?” 

He nodded. “Not for the talk, but for the tour.” 

You let out a loose breath, because it was going to be fine. He was just the authority figure of the one safe place in the world for you, and you were just an annoying kid that had no idea what the hell was going on. 

“Great,” you said for the third time. You looked back at Luke. “I’ll see you around?” 

He smiled and bowed his head. “Definitely. You do kinda live here indefinitely now.” 

You nodded, more relieved than you wanted to show, and you started following Tate out.

You heard Chris mutter something to Luke, and you turned your head in time to see Luke jab him in the side. His head perked up when you laughed, and his whole expression changed as his smile returned and he did a little wave. 

You couldn’t help but smile back as you did the same, and you left the cabin with a little pep in your step. 

—

“You promise you’ll be safe.” 

“Yes, Tate,” you said with a slight laugh. “The worst is already over—you got me here, and we’re both alive. I’m gonna be fine.” 

“I know,” he said, and he managed his own smile. “I’m just worried about you. You don’t spend two weeks on the road fighting for your life with someone and not get a little attached.” 

“You’ll be back here, right?” you asked. “I know your whole thing as a Protector, but you’ve gotta drop the demigods off too, right?” 

“Of course I’ll be back,” he promised. “It… just might be a while. You’re the third demigod I’ve gotten to camp safely, now—Chiron’s trusting me with a bigger mission. It might be a couple months, but I’ll be back.” 

“And you’re telling me to be safe,” you said wryly. 

“I’ve been doing this for a while,” he said. “You just got here.” 

“I know,” you said, and you pulled him into a hug. “Just don’t get killed out there.” 

Tate laughed and patted you on the back before he pulled away. “So long as you don’t killed out here.” 

“Thanks for everything,” you said with a nod. 

“Thank you,” he said, and he gestured at the pavilion with his head. “Now get over there and make some friends. I’ll see you around.” 

You hugged him one last time before you reluctantly went off, and you looked back to wave him goodbye before you really started on your way. 

Your head still spun with all the information Chiron and Tate had imparted on you—so much about Greek mythology (and how it was all real), ADHD and dyslexia (and how they weren’t just there to make your life harder), your godly parent (who would hopefully claim you within the month) and so much more that you knew you would forget in an hour or two. 

And Chiron’s talk. God, it felt more like you were in the principal’s office than anything, even though he was nothing but kind. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed from it all, and though the talk was probably meant to stave some of that anxiety off, it really didn’t. 

But you’d always felt out of place all your life. And now you were finally where you were meant to belong—that had to count for something. 

Tate had dropped you off at the pavilion—nearly dying had taken a lot out of you, and it just happened to be lunch—and just as you neared the tables and realized you had no idea where to sit, your eyes were drawn to a boy raising his hand and calling your name. 

You looked over and saw that it was Luke, the counselor from earlier, and you couldn’t help but smile. True to his word. 

You weaved your way through various campers and around tables full of kids to finally stop next to Luke’s table—Chris, the guy from earlier, sat across from him, and they both smiled at you. 

“How’d the tour go?” he asked. 

“Fine,” you said with a nod. “A little overwhelming, but better than I thought.” You pulled at your new camp shirt, the fabric noticeably brighter than a majority of those around you. “I match now, at least.”

“Orange suits you,” Luke remarked, and he patted the open spot next to him. “Sit down—stay for a while.”

You chuckled as you sat down. You still felt out of place, but at least they weren’t going to hang you out to dry. “Bright orange seems like an odd choice when we’re trying to stay hidden.”

“Probably so Chiron doesn’t lose us,” he joked. “This place is huge, and there’s a lot of us. When the newest camper gets turned around in the woods during capture the flag and nearly dies to a monster, it’s easier to find them.”

You frowned, and you must’ve not been very good at hiding your panic because Chris shook his head.

“Luke, you’re scaring her. She’s already been through enough.” 

“Don’t worry,” Luke said, patting you on the shoulder. “Just a little halfblood humor. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” you said wryly. “It feels like I nearly died four hours ago and now I have no idea who anyone is or what to do.”

“Not true,” Chris spoke up, and he smiled. “You know us.”

“I’ll look out for you,” Luke promised. “And pretty soon, you’re gonna be good enough to look out for me.”

You let out a long lasting sigh. “God, I hope so.” 

—

“You’re not holding it right.” 

You adjusted your hold on the hilt, resisting the urge to wipe away the bead of sweat dripping down your forehead and the even stronger urge to hit him. 

“You’re still not holding it right.” 

Your teeth grinded together as you turned to look at Luke. “Are you gonna actually help me, or just stand there judgmentally?” 

“I dunno,” he said. “The weather’s pretty good over here.” 

You groaned and moved your non-dominant hand closer to the pommel, shifting your other down as well. “Is this worthy of your approval, Your Majesty?” 

Luke chuckled as he walked over to you, and you could feel the calluses on his hands as he adjusted your form with slight touches to your arms. “It is acceptable, my lady, but your posture is not.” 

“I don’t know how so many people at this camp like you,” you grumbled. “This is awful, and so are you.” 

He smiled. “You’ve been here for two weeks. Give yourself some grace.” 

“I’ve spent one of those trying and failing at the most basic basics of sword-fighting,” you said. “I spent the past hour losing to an Ares kid who I’m pretty sure actually wanted to kill me.” You looked over at Luke. “Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Trial by fire,” he supplied. “You’re still alive, so obviously you’re doing something right.” 

“Yeah, probably because you’re here,” you said. “You can’t just kill someone when their counselor’s standing right next to them. It’s bad publicity.” 

Luke huffed a laugh and shook his head as he crossed his arms. “Stop talking down on yourself. You managed to make it here with a couple monster attacks on the way—what’d you use then?” 

“I started off with a screwdriver I stole from the garage before Tate and I left,” you said. “And then I stole a hunting knife from some outdoor store. Not exactly top-tier.” 

“Lotta stealing,” Luke chuckled. “Maybe you are a Hermes kid.” 

“They nearly caught me,” you said. “Definitely not.” 

“Regardless of thievery, you still survived,” he continued. “You’re not a bonafide swordsman, that’s fine. But you’re resourceful, creative—scrappy in a fight is just what we need sometimes.” 

“Great,” you mumbled. “I’m ‘scrappy’.” 

“It’s a compliment,” he promised. “If we were all sword-fighters, we wouldn’t get far. Someone like you is gonna do us a lot of good.” 

“If I don’t die before I even get out to the battlefield.” You knocked the helmet off of one of the straw dummies with your sword and sighed as it clattered to the ground. “This is the only enemy I stand a chance against.”

“You’re thinking too much about it all,” Luke said. “You’re literally wired for battle—didn’t you feel it during your fights on the way to camp?”

You shrugged. You guess you did—you remember not even taking the time to analyze the situation, just knowing your lives were in danger and finally feeling the ever-present jitters in your bones settle for the first time. 

“It was rough,” you finally said. “But… it did feel like I knew what I was doing. Like my body understood it all even when my mind was still a couple steps behind.”

“And that was without training, and with,” Luke huffed an incredulous laugh, “a screwdriver. Just imagine what you’ll be able to do with actual Celestial bronze and actual training.” 

“…I think I remember why people like you,” you said reluctantly. “And why I liked you.” 

Luke grinned as he stood up. “That’s the spirit.” He picked up the fallen helmet and placed it back on the dummy, then looked at you. “I think I’ve put you through enough suffering. Let’s get lunch.”

“So a compliment was all it took for me to get out of this?” you asked in exasperation, gesturing with your sword as you worked to undo the ties on your armor with your other hand. 

“Exactly,” he mused, and he took the sword from you to store it away. “I don’t get nearly enough compliments these days, y’know. Sometimes you end up taking that out on campers that don’t know how to swordfight.” 

“Luke Castellan,” you grumbled as you finally got your breastplate off, “you are a piece of work.” 

He winked. “Thank you.” 

—

You didn’t think you were built for this life. 

It was the only thought running through your head as you sat at a crowded Hermes table, absentmindedly picking at fruit with your fork as you stared off into the distance.

You’d been at Camp Halfblood for a month now, but it had already felt like a lifetime. 

You’d managed to make a few friends—a Demeter girl who grew you a bouquet of your favorite flowers as a consolation prize for fighting dirty during training; an Athena boy who told you whatever interesting fact popped into his head first every time you ran into each other; the Hebe girl who had the misfortune to have the corner opposite you in the Hermes cabin and showed you skincare tips once in a while. 

Throw in a smattering of Hermes and unclaimed kids and a counselor that seemed determined to make you smile, and you weren’t as lonely as you thought you’d be. 

You were learning how to fight in your own way. Luke was right—you weren’t a swordsman, but you were damn good up close and personal. He’d taken you to the camp armory, you found a Celestial bronze dagger that spoke to you, and from then on you’d actually been doing well in training.

Your corner of the Hermes cabin didn’t feel as sad anymore, either. Luke took you to the camp store for retail therapy after you nearly burned your jeans off on the climbing wall, so now you had an AC/DC poster (courtesy of the little money you had) and an I ❤️ NY keychain to attach to your backpack (courtesy of Luke’s idle hands).

You were starting to come into your own, sure. You were doing better in training and making friends in the cabin you were stuck in and starting to get used to burning part of every meal, but the most glaring issue of all still hadn’t been resolved.

You still hadn’t been claimed. 

And maybe it shouldn’t have been such an issue for you, but how could you not feel shitty? How could you see all the different tables and all the different kids talking and smiling and joking with each other that had parents who cared enough to at least claim them, and not feel unworthy?

Because you did. You felt unworthy, and it didn’t matter how many times you took your sparring partner down or bested the climbing wall or actually hit the bullseye at archery practice—your mother didn’t think you were good enough, so neither did you. 

“How’re you doin’, Berkeley?” 

You frowned. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Luke as he sat down next to you. “What?”

“Did you not hear me?” he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

“Berkeley,” you repeated, finally glancing at him. “That’s not my name.”

Luke shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you. You’re unclaimed. UC. University of California—first one I think of for you is Berkeley.”

You were staring now. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’ve got tons of UCs. I’ve gotta keep track of them all somehow,” Luke said, and he pointed at campers both at your table and walking around as he talked. “That’s LA, Irvine, Davis—the others aren’t here, but you get the gist.” He looked back at you. “Been savin’ Berkeley for someone special.”

“Oh gods,” you said, horrified. “I’ve got to get claimed.”

One of the girls at the table—Irvine?—rolled her eyes as she stood up and flicked Luke on the head. “Be nice,” she said before walking away. All he did was smile.

“Maybe give it to someone else,” you said. “I don’t feel special.”

Luke’s brows creased. “If you don’t like it—”

“It’s fine,” you said. “The name doesn’t bother me. The reason I have it does.”

His eyes softened as he said your actual name. “It’s only been a month. You’ve still got plenty of time.”

You looked across at the Hebe girl you’d become friends with—Marisol, if you remembered right—and hoped that your eyes didn’t show the desperation you felt. “How long did it take for you?” 

She offered a sympathetic smile. “Six months. But it probably won’t be that long for you.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” you mumbled. But it had been a month, and you hadn’t gotten a single sign. 

“Because it’s true,” Luke urged. “Whoever your mom is will notice you—you’ve been killing it lately.” 

“Really,” you said flatly, “I’ve been killing it.” 

“Yes,” he said. “You don’t know it because you’ve only got your own experience—you went from nearly dead on our doorstep to taking down most of your opponents.” 

“In training,” you said. 

“That still counts!” Luke exclaimed. “Y’know, you’re holding yourself back. You’re incredible, but you’re the only one that seems to not notice it.” 

“And my—” 

“Do not say your mom,” he said, pointing a finger at you. “We’re not talking about the gods right now, we’re talking about you. And you, Bee, are killing it.” 

That gave you pause. “Bee?” 

“I’m trying to get you back up and you focus on the nickname?” Luke asked wryly. 

“Just explain it,” you said. 

“Bee shortened from Berkeley,” he said. “Not fully unclaimed, but still something special.”

God, you hated him. You’d been feeling shitty for a majority of your month here, but he always managed to make you smile.  

“Sure,” you said. 

“And a little annoying,” he added, earning himself a jab in the side as he laughed, “with a bit of a sting.”

“Aren’t you just so clever?” you mused, though you couldn’t help your smile widening.

“It’s in my genes,” he said proudly.

For the rest of a less than exciting lunch, Luke kept you occupied. Whether it was stories of his life before camp, or the couple of months that earned him counselor before you got here, or getting the other campers at the Hermes table to talk about themselves, he made sure you didn’t get a chance to spiral. 

By the end, your face hurt from smiling

As you finished cleaning up, Marisol turned to you.  “Me and a couple other girls were gonna go play volleyball—do you wanna come with us?” 

“Yeah,” you said, and your smile grew. “Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks.” 

“‘Course!” she exclaimed, and she linked arms with you. “I’d be a fool not to get you on my team after you took down Liam yesterday.” 

She continued to talk as she pulled you along, and you looked back at Luke. He chuckled and gave you a thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, Bee!” 

You gave him one back, and as you turned back to Marisol, you found that you couldn’t stop smiling. 

—

It was two in the morning and you couldn’t stop crying.

You finally had a mattress against your back, and however stiff it was, it was better than the floor. A decent amount of kids got claimed over the past month, and half the cabin left after the summer was over, so you finally had the privilege of a bunk—thankfully, Marisol did too, and she was below you. 

At least, until the summer-only campers that all the Hermes kids liked more than you returned. Then it was back to the floor.

Unless you got claimed before then. But that was less likely than being able to muster some good will from your cabin mates. 

Because it was embarrassing, truly. You’d been at camp for four months now, and you hadn’t even gotten a single goddamn peep from whoever your mother might be. You just woke up every day on the floor, moseyed about a camp that still didn’t feel like home, burned offerings to a god that didn't want you, and went back to sleep on the floor. 

And now you were crying in a bed that was barely even yours and it was two in the morning and you were wondering if it would have just been better for you to die on the road to camp the first time, because at least then your mother might have actually paid attention to you. 

“Hey.” 

And now you were really wishing you’d died because you’d woken someone up and they’re just gonna hate you more— 

“Are you okay?” 

You finally turned your head from where it had been buried in a pillow, a laissez-faire attempt to suffocate yourself or maybe just muffle the noise, and you saw Luke Castellan. Counselor of a cabin of thieves, vagabonds, and rejects, and maybe the only person that you didn’t want to see you like this. All that good will, the unearned faith you’d accumulated—this was the easiest way to lose it. His eyebrows were creased, and his whisper held what sounded like concern, but he was required to be concerned. 

You nodded, still not moving, still not speaking. Tears rolled down your cheeks and stained the bed sheet. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little more believable than that, Bee,” Luke murmured. 

“No, I don’t,” you whispered back. 

You got the tiniest huff of a laugh out of him, and he gestured towards the closed door with his head. “Wanna take a second?” 

“It’s past curfew,” you mumbled. 

“And you’re miserable,” Luke said. “You can’t feel any worse getting eaten by harpies than you do now.” 

Still, you stared at him. 

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “Right outside the cabin. Harpies won’t even know.” 

You rubbed a hand across your face, coming away wet with tears, and you realized that he wasn’t just going to leave you like this. So you got up as quietly as you could, careful not to disturb your bunkmates, and followed Luke. He pushed the door open and shut so quietly you wondered how many times he’s snuck out. 

The cold air was sobering, and you wiped away more tears before wrapping your arms around yourself. Camp Half-Blood was always supposed to have perfect weather, but you guess not even they were immune to November nights. 

“So,” Luke started, and in your peripherals you could see him leaning against the side of the cabin. You could feel his gaze on you, and you just stared off into the distance. 

“So,” you repeated. 

“You wanna tell me why you’re crying in the middle of the night?” he asked. 

“Not really,” you said, because it felt ridiculous that a boy your age was acting like he’s ten years your elder. 

Luke chuckled and tipped his head. “Fair. You want to say anything at all?” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

He shook his head. “I was already up. I’m a light sleeper.” 

“Seems rough in a cabin like this,” you said. 

“I’ve gotten used to it,” he said. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You frowned, because now it really felt like he was babying you. Luke must have caught on, because he laughed a bit and shook his head.

“Demigods have… extremely vivid dreams,” he said. “Typically horrific nightmares. Sometimes prophetic.”

Your frown deepened. “That’s awful.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s just the way it is. The gods can’t interfere in mortal affairs, so I guess it’s their way of letting us know what’s wrong.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “No nightmares, thankfully. Just… feeling overwhelmed.”

“About what?” he asked. “I told you you’ve been doing great.” 

“It doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” you said wryly. “It doesn’t mean I believe it.” 

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t,” he asserted. 

You huffed a laugh. “It’s been four months, Luke. Four months since I got here after nearly dying in five different states, and I don’t even know who’s responsible for it.” 

“Ah,” Luke said. “The unclaimed thing.” 

“Yeah,” you said wryly. “I guess you could call it that.”

“Sorry,” he said, and he shook his head. “It’s a bigger deal than that, I know.” 

“Maybe it isn’t,” you said. “There’s at least six other kids in there dealing with the same thing as I am, and none of them are waking up their counselor in the middle of the night with their tears.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Luke said with surprising conviction. “Like your feelings aren’t valid. Because they are.” 

You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t seem like it.” 

“They are,” he insisted. “A— and you’re not bothering me. We’re friends, and we help each other. I care about you, y’know.” 

“I never said I was bothering you,” you said wryly. 

“You thought it,” Luke said. “I know you did.” 

“...Maybe.” You sighed and shook your head as you looked out at the stars. They really were beautiful here. “I just can’t help but be bitter about all this, and I feel so shitty about it.” 

“Would it make you feel better to know you’re not the only one that thinks that?” he asked. 

“A little, yeah.” You glanced at him. “No one else seems too bothered that their parents are never around.” 

“Most of them have accepted that it’s just the way it is,” he said. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“Have you?” 

Luke sighed after a moment of reluctance. “I… I have a complicated relationship with my dad because he was around. It was almost… worse to know him, and then to have him leave.” 

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” you quoted. 

“I don’t know about that,” Luke murmured. “But it certainly helps to talk about it.” 

You glanced over to see him gazing off into the distance, a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. This was the most he’d ever talked about his past to you, you realized—and it still wasn’t much. 

“When were you claimed?” you asked after a moment of contemplation.

Luke shrugged. “I never really had to be. Hermes stayed with my mom for a year after I was born, and she told me who he was when I was a little older. I’ve known basically my whole life—he had no reason not to claim me as soon as I got to camp.”

“So you’re saying my dad could be keeping secrets from me too,” you said. 

“He might not know,” Luke said. “A lot of times, they don’t talk about it. Sometimes, we don’t find out until a monster’s trying to kill us on a field trip.” 

You huffed. “What a great existence we’ve been blessed with.” 

Luke smiled, though it was tighter than usual. He let out a deep breath, then fully turned to you. 

“Do you have your dagger with you?”

You frowned. “It’s under my pillow. Why?” 

“Under your—” Luke stared for a moment before he laughed and shook his head. “A little paranoid?” 

You shrugged. “You said it yourself. You’re a cabin of thieves.” 

“True,” he admitted. “How’d you like to get some of this emotion out?” 

“We’re sneaking out even more?” 

“It’ll be fine,” Luke promised. 

“You always say that,” you said. “Eventually, it’s not gonna be true.” 

He laughed and gestured at the door. “Get your dagger. We’re gonna make this a very bad night for some mannequins.” 

-

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” 

You huffed as you ripped your dagger out of the dummy, a few strands of straw coming out of the new hole you’d torn in its forehead, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Are you kidding? This was a great idea.” 

“Not this part,” he said. “The ‘being alone with you during a rage’ part.” 

“I’m not in a rage,” you muttered as you slashed at the breastplate, “I’m blowing off steam.” 

Luke hummed. “And you thought you weren’t a good fighter.” 

You stabbed at the armor again then rammed your fist into its head, and you took a step back as the mannequin thudded to the ground. “I guess I just need to think about my mom before I go into battle.” 

“Y’know, Bee,” Luke said, “you scare me sometimes.” 

You shook your head, wiping your blade on your night shirt to get any debris off as you turned around. “You’re really gonna stick with that?” 

“I told you I’d stop if you didn’t like it.” 

“It’s not that. I just…” You sighed and shook your head again. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it does.” Luke crossed his arms. “Everything you have to say matters.” 

“Not if I say it doesn’t,” you countered, and you looked at him. “Who do you think it could be?” 

“Your parent?” he asked. You nodded. 

“Definitely not Apollo,” Luke said. “You’re way too dreary to be a kid of the god of the sun.”

“Gee,” you said dryly, “thanks.” 

Luke shrugged. “You asked.” 

“Well— who else?” You picked the dummy back up and dusted the armor off. “Athena, maybe? I’m smart.” 

“Not smart enough to not be out past curfew with me,” he said. 

“You suggested this,” you scoffed. “And I definitely needed it. If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” 

“And why do you think that would work?” he asked, amused. 

“You’re the camp’s golden boy,” you said. “I doubt you’d get in much trouble.” 

“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding. “Or you just think I’m good enough to talk my way out of it.” 

You tilted your head. “That too.”

“I never thought Ares before,” Luke chuckled, “but after all this, I think you might have it in you.” 

“God, I hope not. Priya hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke said. “She just tried to kill you that one time.” 

“And that other time during capture the flag,” you said. “She’s out for blood, Luke.” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “She always is. She’s probably already moved onto her next victim.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Maybe Aphrodite?” he suggested. “You’re awfully pretty.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Luke corrected. 

You huffed a laugh but couldn’t help the slightest smile as you shook your head. “It’s not Tyche, at least. I have the worst luck.” 

“Maybe you’re a Big Three kid,” he said. “How do you feel about the sky?” 

“I like it,” you said. 

“The ocean?” 

“Not so much.” 

“And the darkness?” 

You huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not a Big Three kid, Luke. Even I know that.” 

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You can never know for sure until you’re claimed.” 

“If I was, I would be the biggest disappointment,” you said, looking at your reflection in your dagger. “Breaking their pact for a kid that can barely fight.” 

“Why do you always do that?” 

Luke’s voice had lost the joking edge from before, and when you glanced over at him, he was frowning.

“Do what?” 

“You always put yourself down,” he said. “You don’t even give yourself a chance to believe that you’ll be great, or that you’ll succeed—you’re just a coward, or a failure, or worthless at the first bump in the road.” 

“Luke—” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I need you to understand that you are so, so much more than whatever that shitty voice in your head says.”

You went silent. Any words you could have even said stuck in your throat. 

“This is not an easy life,” Luke asserted. “We’re thrown into an ocean before we know how to swim, and we have to find the shore all on our own or die trying. We—” he laughed, but there was no heart in it— “we’ve got our parents above us that could guide us, could save us, but most of the time they refuse to even acknowledge us. And we’ve got every single goddamn obstacle in the way trying to kill us.”

He inclined his head towards you. “But in spite of all that, you’re alive. You’re still here. You’re pushing through everything in your path, and you are still fucking here. Do you get that?”

“…I’m still here,” you repeated, and your hands clenched into fists. It had never felt more right to have your dagger in your hand. 

Luke nodded resolutely. “And you’ve got a couple lifeboats to help along the way.”

“You mean it?” Your voice came out softer than you thought, in stark contrast to the stiffness of your bones, but you felt like a kid all over again. 

“With all my heart,” he promised. “For as long as you’re here, I’ll be here.” 

Your throat tightened, and the telltale beginnings of tears pricked behind your eyes. This time, when you spoke, your voice was little more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Always,” he said. “And I mean that.”

You nodded, maybe a few too many times, and cleared your throat as you looked back at your dagger. “It’s late. We should get back before we actually get in trouble.”

Luke nodded too, and he helped you move the dummy back into place. You hated how your heart jumped into your throat when your hands brushed for the barest moment, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Thank you for this.” You played with your hands as Luke finished putting everything else away—extra insurance to make sure no one knew you were here—and only managed to make eye contact just as he looked at you. “It… it really helped.” More than he knew, you were sure. 

Luke smiled, and he offered you his arm. “Always.”

You took it, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “Just… don’t tell anyone about the crying.”

He chuckled as you started walking together. “After the way you’ve been handling that dagger? I’d be a fool.“

-

“Luke,” you groaned, “this is awful.” 

“You were the one who said you wanted to spend time with me,” he said, giving you a crooked smile. “Spending time with me after the worst cabin inspection ever means cleaning the place head to toe for our next one.” 

“Is skipping dinner really worth it though?” you asked as you scooped up a pile of dirty clothes and tossed it into the basket between you two. 

“It’s the only time this place is completely empty,” he said. “I told you I could handle it alone—you’re the one that insisted on helping.” 

“Maybe I do want to be a Big Three kid,” you grumbled. “At least I’d only be cleaning up my own mess.” 

“You’d also have the wrath of the gods and every monster in the world to deal with,” he said. 

You shook your head. “A small price to pay for a clean cabin.” 

“And then you wouldn’t get to see me when you wake up every day,” he mused. “A much bigger price to pay.” 

You huffed as you dropped to your knees, reaching under a bed to grab a stray camp tee. “Keep talking, pretty boy. It won’t clean the floors.” 

Luke grinned. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“I think you’ve got the messiest cabin in the world,” you said. “We’ve gotten the lowest rating every day for the past two weeks. I’ve been here for seven months now, and I don’t think we’ve ever gotten a full five.” 

“Which is why you’re helping me!” he said. “Because you’re as sick of scrubbing the pegasi stables as I am.” 

“You’re the counselor here!” you exclaimed. “You’ve gotta whip your siblings into shape.” 

Luke gestured at you. “You’re basically my co-counselor. It’s just as much your responsibility.” 

“And just what makes you think that?” you marveled. 

“You’re the person in the cabin I like the most,” he said, “and we spend a lot of time together. That’s enough to make you my partner.” 

“My stuff is always clean,” you said. “It’s you and the rest of the Hermes kids that’ve gotten us stuck in the stables and the kitchens every afternoon. Not me.”

You started remaking the unmade bed—would it kill any of the Hermes kids to make theirs right after they got up?—and shook your head. “It’s just not fair. Aphrodite’s cabin is basically Barbie’s Dreamhouse, and Demeter kids can grow plants to make it all pretty. We’ve just got a cabin of slobs.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but when you glanced at him, you saw he was smiling. “It’ll all be fine.” 

“You always say that.” You got the fitted sheet into all the corners then looked at him full-on. “Even when it’s not about something as stupid as laundry. How do you know?” 

Luke shrugged as he nudged a ladder to a top bunk back into place. “I don’t. I just hope for the best.” 

“How do you do that?” you asked. “How does anyone here do that? I feel like I’m the most pessimistic person here.” 

“Every single one of us is an anomaly,” Luke said. “Freaks of nature. By all accounts of logic, we shouldn’t exist. But we do. All of mythology does. And when we have to literally fight for our lives for every single day, it doesn’t do much good to sweat the small stuff.”

“All I do is sweat the small stuff,” you grumbled, and you stretched your back out before you continued. “D’you think they’ll get annoyed that we just pooled all their laundry together again?” 

“Nah,” Luke said. “If they didn’t want to have to pick all their stuff out after we so graciously do the laundry for them, they would keep their things clean in the first place.” 

You chuckled and shook your head as you finished laying out the sorry excuse for a comforter—it would end up on the floor five seconds into the night, but Sisyphus and the boulder and all that—and sat down on the fruits of your labor. “I think this mess is the one thing I won’t miss when I get claimed.” 

“You’re not as down about that as you used to be,” Luke noted.

“You know how they say a watched pot never boils?” 

He actually laughed at that as he leaned against a bed post. “If you don’t care, you’ll get claimed faster?” 

You shrugged. “Nothing else has worked. And like you said—don’t sweat the small stuff, right?” 

“Like you said— all you do is sweat the small stuff.” 

“Maybe I’m gonna try and turn over a new leaf,” you mused.

“I think that would be good for you,” he said. “You’ve been happier lately. It’s good to see you happy.” 

“You’ve been watching?” you asked wryly. 

Luke smiled. “You know I always am.” 

You ignored the warmth stirring in your chest as you shrugged. “I’ve spent way too much time this year being sad over things I can’t control. Might as well start focusing on the things I can.” 

“And to think,” he mused, “this is the same girl that wanted nothing to do with me when we first talked.” 

“Oh, please,” you said dryly, “I’ve always wanted something to do with you.” 

“And you still understand that flattery gets you everywhere,” Luke said with a grin. He pushed himself up and held out his hand. “C’mon—this place is clean enough. I think if we run, we can still make dinner.” 

“Think we’ll get in trouble for partially skipping?” you asked as you stood up and took his hand, swinging your intertwined hands a bit as you walked together. 

Luke chuckled as he pushed the door open and you walked out. “After the work we did here? We should be hailed as saints.”  

-

“Luke,” you whispered. 

His eyes shot wide open as he jolted up, and you had to stifle your laugh at his bewildered expression before he realized it was you. 

He said your name groggily, rubbing his eyes as he kept himself propped up with his other arm. “What d’you need?” 

“The stars,” you said. “They’re beautiful tonight.” 

“So are you,” he mumbled. “You don’t see me waking you up in the middle of the night to tell you that.” 

“Luke,” you said, but you couldn’t help your smile. “On topic.” 

“The stars,” he said, barely nodding in his addled state. “Good for them. I’m going back to sleep now.” 

“No, Luke—” you laughed softly and took his hand. “Come stargazing with me.” 

He closed his eyes, but he didn’t take his hand away. “You’re insane.” 

“Please,” you said. “I could never see the stars at home, not like this. They’re brighter than I’ve ever seen.” 

“It’s so late,” he complained. “Can we do it in the morning?” 

“Do you know what stargazing is?” you asked, amused. 

“Hey, lovebirds.” The annoyed, tired voice of a camper rang out as they hit the wall. “Take it outside so we can sleep.” 

Again, you had to bite back a laugh. Luke looked like he was holding back a groan, but he got up anyway, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes. You moved to the door as quietly as possible, and you waited until he joined you on the small porch. 

“Thank you,” you said, hearing the door close, “and sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Luke covered up his yawn as he held a jacket out for you. “Put this on. I’m not gonna be responsible for you getting a cold because you want to stargaze in February.” 

Your eyebrows rose as you took it. “Is this yours?” 

“Don’t think too much into it,” he said, but he had the slightest smile on his lips. “You wanna see the stars, right? Let’s see ‘em.” 

“Not here,” you said, shaking your head as you zipped up the maroon hoodie. You held out your hand once you finished. “Do you trust me?” 

“Oh, gods,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “We’re doing a trust exercise too?” 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you remarked. You took his hand and started dragging him along, a clear spot in mind. 

“You’re kidding me,” he said in exasperation. “I thought we were just gonna look at the sky for a couple minutes— you’re taking me to a second destination?”  

“Hey,” you said, “don’t sweat the small stuff.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait to use that on the harpies when they catch us and eat us,” Luke said offhandedly. “‘I’m sorry, ma’am—we’re really trying not to sweat the small stuff.’” 

You laughed as you continued on your way, and out of the corner of your eye you could see Luke smiling too, despite himself. Suddenly, though, his grip tightened on your hand and he pulled you behind one of the thicker columns of the pavilion. 

“Wh—” 

He shook his head then gestured with it to the other side of the pavilion. One of the harpies—Aello, if you remembered correctly from Chris’s rant the past week about cleaning dishes—was walking past, muttering things to herself. 

“Speak of the devil,” you marveled. You definitely weren’t a child of Tyche. 

Luke gave you a look that quite clearly said be quiet, and for some reason that only made you want to laugh more. He must have seen that glint in your eye that he’d grown used to, because he placed his hand over your mouth right before the dam was about to burst. 

You squeezed his hand tight as you tried to keep yourself from blowing your cover while Luke occupied himself with actually watching to make sure your path would clear. You were pressed right up against each other, and even through the jacket, even in the cold, you could feel his body warmth. He did say he ran hot.

Eventually, Luke let out a labored sigh and let his hand drop, and you wheezed, nearly doubling over. 

“There is something wrong with you,” he said. He was barely able to hold back his own amusement.  

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “that was awful.” 

“That was your fault!” he exclaimed. 

“How was it my fault?” you argued. “You’re the counselor here—you’re meant to be the responsible one!” 

“I was being responsible!” Luke laughed again as he ran his hand through his hair then used it to gesture at you. “You were the one that nearly got us caught—you were the one who wanted to be out here in the first place!”

 “Right,” you said, pointing your finger, “we gotta get to the beach.” 

“Stargazing on the beach,” Luke marveled. “Definitely worth nearly getting eaten.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you said as you continued to pull him along. “You could’ve said no.” 

He squeezed your hand for a moment. “We both know I can never say no to you.” 

Once you got to the beach you let go of his hand and laid down, taking care not to get sand in your sneakers. Luke sat down next to you but stayed up, watching the tide go in and out. 

At night, without a hundred campers running around making all the noise they can, you actually felt like you could breathe. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” It almost felt wrong to break the sacred silence, to insert yourself in the ambiance of nature working together in all its glory. 

“Yeah.” Luke’s voice was softer than usual, that rough edge you’d grown used to absent in the face of calmer seas. “Yeah. It’s…” 

“Serene,” you suggested. 

“Beautiful,” he said. When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you. 

“Very smooth,” you said wryly. “Now stop flirting and look at the stars.” 

Luke chuckled lightly as he let himself fall back. His hand bumped yours as he adjusted his position, and your breath caught in your throat for the barest moment. You moved it away. 

The two of you laid there together in silence gazing at the stars for what felt like forever. The gentle waves coming to shore then leaving, the scattering of sand from quiet winds, and not a single angry car horn or police siren. 

You missed home, the city. You were headstrong in your belief that Detroit was better than New York. But gods—sometimes, you just couldn’t beat camp. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to break the silence. But something had been tugging at you since the moment you laid down on the beach, and so you did. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” 

Luke didn’t miss a beat. “Always.” 

“I…” you trailed off for a moment, but you bolstered yourself. “I’m scared of what comes next.” 

You heard Luke shift in the sand and felt his eyes on you. “What do you mean?” 

“After this,” you said. “The honeymoon phase of being a demigod.” 

He huffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t say we have a honeymoon phase.” 

“You know what I mean.” A shiver went down your spine and you put your arms on your chest. Like a coffin. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

“I think you need to stop getting up in the middle of the night,” he said. “It seems you have all your existential crises then.” 

You exhaled out your nose, a sorry excuse for a laugh. “I’ve heard about quests—how they can happen for no reason except a god’s will, to— to prove that you’re worthy. And all I can think about is that my mother will never claim me until I prove I’m worthy or die trying.” 

Luke was silent. You could feel your throat closing up, the threatened onslaught of tears. You blinked them back. 

“All my life, I have never felt seen,” you murmured. “And I’m terrified that the only way I will be seen is when I die.”

“Look at me.” 

You turned your head—Luke’s eyes were piercing in the moonlight. 

“I don’t care what anyone says, especially that voice in your head—you’re worth everything and more,” he said. “And you are worth so much more than becoming a martyr for a god’s approval.” 

“I wish you could tell my mom that,” you mumbled. 

“I would march right up to Olympus and say it to her face,” he said. “And if it bothers her that much, she can smite me right now.” 

That got a breathy laugh out of you from the pure absurdity. Luke’s eyes flicked to the sky as he waited, and when he didn’t instantly die a horrific death, his gaze went back to you. 

“I see you,” Luke promised, his voice low. “And I’ll make everyone see you the way I do. I swear it.” 

You were starstruck. You couldn’t look away from him, from the determination etched into each detail of his face, the softness in his eyes directed wholly at you—the fact that he was here at all in the first place at an unholy hour just because you asked. 

Oh gods. You were in trouble. 

“It’s late.” You finally managed to break the spell that held you under. “We should go.” 

“Yeah.” Luke made no motion to move, still focused wholly on you. 

“Luke,” you whispered. 

You could have sworn his eyes moved down to your lips, but he was sitting up so quickly that you knew you must have imagined it. You cleared your throat as you followed suit, brushing the sand off your—his— jacket. 

“This was nice,” he said after a moment. “...Thanks for waking me up.” 

“Of course,” you said. “There’s… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to share it with.” 

Luke smiled, and you didn’t think he’d ever looked more beautiful than he did now, awash in the silver moonlight. If you were braver, you would have taken his hand again. You would’ve done what the voice in your head desperately wanted to do—had wanted to do for the past two months.  

But you didn’t. 

“I guess it was worth nearly getting eaten, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, and he shrugged. “But most things are worth it when it comes to you.” 

You nearly melted right there, and it was a credit to your strength that you didn’t say anything horrifically stupid. Instead, you put on a smile, hoped he couldn’t see how much he was killing you, and started back up on the path. 

“C’mon,” you said. “Before we end up having to clean the entire camp for breaking curfew.” 

“Whatever you say,” he mused. 

-

You groaned as you slumped into your usual spot at the Hermes table. You heard Luke laugh, and you felt his eyes on you as you put your head in your arms.

“What’s got you so down?”

“I’ve been fifteen for three days and I already feel like an old woman,” you said. “Everything still hurts.”

“Capture the flag was meant to be a birthday gift,” Luke said wryly. “And we did win.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you grumbled. “I swear, some people went after me on purpose just because it was my birthday. I’ve got bruises all over.”

“You know, we have an infirmary for a reason.” 

“They’re battle wounds,” you said. You picked up your head just to take your goblet. “Lemonade. Actually, pink lemonade.” You took a sip, but even that didn’t make you feel better. You buried your head back in your arms with a rough sigh. “Signs of our victory.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “Sometimes I really don’t…”

He trailed off suddenly, and you heard a collective gasp go up at the table.

“What?” you asked halfheartedly. 

“You— you’re—” 

You didn’t know why he couldn’t finish his sentence. You picked your head up to see Luke’s face awash in golden light, his eyes wide. Everyone else at the Hermes cabin was just as awestruck, and Marisol fumbled around in her purse until she pulled out her compact. She opened her foundation, the mirror pointing at you, and you realized why.

A glowing, golden, translucent sickle with a few sheaths of wheat floated above your head. You frowned.

Before you had the chance to say anything, Luke was yelling your name and tackling you in a hug. You let out a grunt of surprise as you barely managed to brace yourself, and when he pulled away he was smiling wider than you’d ever seen.

“You’re claimed!” he exclaimed, his hands gripping your shoulders. “You— you’re finally claimed!”

“Demeter,” you said, almost absentmindedly. It still hadn’t quite hit you. 

“Demeter,” he repeated, nodding rapidly, that gigantic smile seeming like a permanent feature at this point. “I told you everyone would see you— I told you we would make them see you the way I do!”

The rest of the table was chattering away, and you could feel Chris patting you on the back and saying words that went in one ear and out the other. The rest of the pavilion was starting to catch word, and you could see a couple kids from a table on the opposite end standing up and craning to see. Maybe your new siblings. 

(You should be happy.)

Your new siblings. 

…Your new cabin.

You could still barely think, like there was static in your brain. Luke’s hands on your shoulders were the only thing grounding you. 

(You should be ecstatic.)

A year of tears, silent prayers, and apathetic resolution had finally come to a close, just days after your fifteenth. 

(Why are you not smiling?)

You’d been claimed. But you didn’t think you’d ever felt more lost. 

[sk3erkrou]

My Thoughts on Hogwarts Legacy

This is something that has been on my mind recently as more discourse about the topic is coming to the forefrunt of the internet. Hogwarts Legacy and, honestly, the Harry Potter franchise as a whole.

As I see things, there are 5 groups of people when it comes to "THAT wizard game."

"Hey, I don't want to play it because of my own personal reasons. But if you want to play it, I hope you have fun."

"Hey, I do want to play this game because of my own, personal reasons, but I understand that you're not interested. That's cool."

"This game gives money to a transphobe?! Awesome! I just bought two copies."

"You want to play this game for your own reasons? You're a transphobe piece of shit. I won't stop until you know you're a piece of shit."

"Harry Potter? Hogwarts Legacy? I haven't played video games since I lost 2 weeks of my life to Banjo Kazooie in 1998."

If you fall into either category 1, 2, or 5, then right on. You're doing the right thing. Keep it up.

However, if you fall into either category 3 or 4, you are a fucking problem and you need to cut the shit and grow up.

Personally, I fall into category 1. I feel I have made my views on the game and franchise fairly clear. But also, I have a good friend who learned to read because of Harry Potter. I grew up with the franchise and it was a huge part of my childhood, and recognizing that I no longer want to engage in the franchise felt like a huge loss to me, and took some time to reconcile with myself. But, again, I have made that decision based on the larger franchise and not simply this one game. And, also again, these are my OWN PERSONAL REASONS. If you're interested, I will gladly share my thoughts in a civil manner, and only ask that you understand my thinking, not that you agree with me, or try to convince me to change my mind.

Now, to address category 3. Deep breath, here.

If you are doing anything at all because you know it will make the lives of people worse, then fuck you right to hell. Yes, this group of people also generally goes hand in hand with a specific red hat and an orange demagogue. If you find yourself in this category, get help. Go to therapy and ask about this concept called "empathy."

Category 4.

I will repeat: if you are doing anything at all because you know it will make the lives of people worse, then fuck you right to hell. Setting up websites to track Twitch streamers to see who is playing Hogwarts Legacy? Going to channels and harrassing the streamers for wanting to play the game? I would argue that people in this category or worse than those in category 3 because while those in 3 as assholes, they are blowing money on something they don't actually care about to try triggering someone while people in this group are going out and actively attacking people for engaging something that they want to experience for, and repeat after me, THEIR OWN PERSONAL REASONS. I saw in one chat that someone mentioned they wished executions were legal because people were doing something they didn't like. Sounds an awful lot like some people who built some gallows outside of a notable large building in the US back in the beginning of January 2021, doesn't it?

Here's where things really boil down on Hogwarts Legacy. The game is made. It's done. Rowling has been paid or will be getting paid. You attacking people for enjoying the game isn't going to stop that. But there's a lot more people than just her in the mix, here. Think about all the hundreds of people who have spent YEARS working on making this game, and trying to make it the best game possible. They have also been paid and are continuing to get paid. Controversy has surrounded Hogwarts Legacy pretty much since it was announced. And it wasn't cancelled.

Here's where I see things going with the game: it is the outrage of the day. Somewhat surprisingly, the outrage of Hogwarts Legacy's release is overshadowing the much more recent information about Justin Roiland. People will continue to be upset by this game for a while, and eventually that will fade, as all outrage does.

But you know what won't pass? The hurt caused by people to other people over this game. Your friend, who you disagree with about the game, sitting in their home, playing the game, is not going to hurt you. Streamer playing the game and you don't want to watch it? THEN FUCKING DON'T. Full stop. For fuck's sake, people were buying subs to a twitch stream just so they could continue harrassing the streamers after they made the chat sub-only. Fuck you. Grow up. And like I told the people in group 3, get therapy.

Actually, everyone should go to therapy, but that isn't the point of this.

Here's what my point of view boils down to: let people enjoy what they enjoy and stop shitting on things just because people enjoy them. Yes, the situation here is more complex and nuanced than that, but every situation is. And if any part of this rambling has made you angry or upset for any reason, I'd like you to think about why that is. I am not advocating for people to play the game or not play the game. Honestly, I just couldn't give a fuck what you want to play in the privacy of your own home. I just want people to be better. Treat people better. Be better people. Recognize that everyone on this planet is, at the very least, deserving of being treated like a person and deserving of love. And if you can't understand that fact, did you really understand Harry Potter at all?

[crabonfire]

Scout falling for reader

characters: scout

tags: fluff

note: writing this on a whim and ignoring all the other drafts I really wanted to write! also hi :)

I was writing an enemies to lovers but um....maybe later

I have a love for scout okay :( I'm sorryyyyyyyyy ill do full characters right after this one (I'm in a writing mood for once in years)

and of course reblogs and comments very much appreciated <3

♡Scout♡

• You were really the only true friend he had in the base. He considered all the other mercs his friend too but, he knew they'd never really share that friendship. He felt appreciated, and had someone to talk to who would really listen to him, not finding him stupid like the others do.

• He didn't realize he fell for you. The last time he fell for someone he acted shy, aloof, awkward and honestly embarrassed himself a little. He never knew what to say. So it took him a while to figure out he liked you, because whenever you two spoke, words always came so easily to him.

• The day he truly does realize his feelings though, is a day like any other. Your team, victorious, going out for drinks at the local bar. Scout could never handle himself well to alcohol, and you didn't really seem to be a drinker either. You two were sitting outside for the most part, laughing and making fun of the other team, as well as you listened to him ramble on his accomplishments of the day.

• Though, something lingered on his mind. A question he really thought about for a while. He knew you wouldn't judge, so he asked you your opinion.

"How long do you think we're gonna have to do this for?"

• You turned to him, confused. He continues.

"Fighting. Like- how long do you think it'll take before it's over? I'm not sayin' I don't enjoy kicking the other teams ass or the money we get, but well- I don't know."

Anytime he asked this question, Spy, Demo, everyone in the team really, all just said "not to think about it and to do it until it's done." He was never satisfied with that answer.

He saw how you contemplated it for a moment, seeing a small smile curl onto your lips when you looked back at him to reply.

"I don't know. It's probably for a bit longer, I mean- it's been 2 years. Pretty sure there were mercs before us who fought for this stupid war.*

You paused, "Why? You wanna quit or something?"

He shook his head. "Quit being able to kill people for a bunch of money? No way! I just- I think of doing other stuff. We barely have any free time and I don't wanna do this stuff till I'm old or something. And I know old- just look at Spy. He's probably from the ice age or somethin'."

• You snorted, chuckling a little at his comment. He smiled, he always liked to see you laughing at his jokes, made him feel funnier than he really was. You mirrored his smile, turning to look at the road. The night was a bluish gray, a striking contrast to the liveliness and warmth the bar brought.

"I get it."

It went quiet, he wondered if that was it.

"I don't wanna grow old and retire from this job either. But I don't think it'll be so bad."

"Really? Why?" He asked.

• He saw the way you turned to look at him, that same smile he knew all too well, one side of your face shone so brightly under the bars lighting while the other side was slightly masked with moonlight. Your reply was so simple, but it made his heart race.

"You'll be there. And I guess having you around makes things less worse."

• He stared bashfully at you upon hearing those very words. His palms got sweatier than they usually did as he felt his chest tighten. You must've noticed, because you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Haha- that was corny as hell. Anyway, I'm gonna go get another pack of soda for us."

• You stood up and walked back to the bar, but he couldn't look away from where you sat before. His face felt warm, damn.

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it should've hit him sooner, the fact he had feelings for you. The fact that- whenever you pull him in for a hug, his heart beats a little bit faster. When you laugh with him he laughs just a little harder because your laugh is his favorite. That your playful fighting with each other, it really does mean a lot to him.

All he knew was from that day on, it became difficult to think of you without realizing everything it was he loved about you.

♡♡♡

I don't know how to write endings anyway scout fans here's your food I know it's been a while it's okay mama is here 🫂

and yesssss sigh don't worry there are other fics I'm writing 😪 just...wanted to do scout first as a practice :)

hope you enjoyed! reblogs and comments always appreciated, I'd love to know your own opinions of scout and such!!! #scoutlover

[im-sleepdeprived]

Crazier • Pt. 1

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: this is a series ! prob 3 parts im thinking (i think im back AH), editing took me 10000 years actually so if there's something wrong PLEASE don't tell me !!! :D

warnings: umm just me not knowing anything about star wars, girls support girls<3, mentions of breakup, honestly theres nothing wrong but i think i said 'shit' like twice if you give a shit lmfao

"There's no way you actually think 'Return Of The Jedi' is better than 'The Empire Strikes Back'. Like, come on dude, it's so obvious which is better," Ned exclaimed, obviously feeling very strongly about the little debate he had currently going on with Peter. 

However, Peter couldn't have been more nonchalant. "Listen, man, I love debating with you but I know where I stand and this is where I draw the line," he shrugged.

Ned opened his mouth, no doubt to argue some more with his best friend, when his gaze shifted to you, "Hey man, maybe we should talk about something Y/N can enjoy too."

That made your head snap up from where you were just toying with the food on your tray. "Don't worry about me guys," you forced a smile, "Honestly, I love watching Ned beat you into a pulp about movies," you looked at Peter. 

Peter put on his 'sad-puppy-dog-face', "Ouch babe. You're supposed to side with me here, I'm your boyfriend after all." 

"Well, I would've sided with you if you hadn't bailed on me when we were supposed to watch the movies together the other night. If you'd been there then I would've been able to contribute to this conversation and agree with who I genuinely thought was right, which at this moment, I believe, is Ned." 

Ned grinned at you from across the table and you two high-fived while Peter just pouted some more, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I really am but y'know I had the internship."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course, I know that. At this point the surprising thing is whenever you don't have that internship," you looked at Ned, "Dude, do you know how many dates and hangouts he's canceled on me? I feel like I should be able to sue at this point. Can you sue someone for wasting your time?"

Ned winced, "Pete, I love you man, but you need to start actually acting like her boyfriend otherwise you won't be her boyfriend for much longer."

Peter's eyes widened a bit but then his face quickly turned nonchalant, "It was just a few slip-ups, don't worry about it," he threw an arm around you and pulled you in, kissing the top of your head, "but you're right, we should talk about something we'd all enjoy."

Laughing, you said, "I told you guys, I enjoy hearing you debate because Ned is always-"

Peter threw a hand up, "Don't finish that sentence. I've had enough of you two fraternizing against me for the day."

You and Ned laughed some more, "Well honestly, you two can continue your...," you waved your hands, " 'old-couple-bickering' and I can scooch down a little and go hang out with M.J.."

Peter pulled you in closer at that, "No don't leave," he muttered in your hair. 

"Yeah," Ned started, "let's talk about something else like," he trailed off, "OH, you're managing the school play next week, right? That's gotta be interesting, tell us about that."

"It's really nothing 'Manager' is really just a fun name they stuck on me. Mrs. Lightbody does most of the work."

"Oh come on," Peter said, "when you first got the part, it was all you wanted to talk about. What happened?"

you happened, you thought. It's true, you had been too excited that you'd been chosen to be in charge of everything and you couldn't wait to rant to your boyfriend about just that. That was until he basically ignored you and shook it off as nothing, running away for the stark internship. You hadn't really wanted to talk about it with anybody after that. Maybe it wasn't as cool as you'd thought it was. 

You looked down and just shrugged, "Dunno, guess I just didn't think you guys would be interested in it. You've never really shown interest in theater before."

"Well, that was before my gorgeous girlfriend was in charge. Now, go on, tell us what it's like to get a bunch of theater kids on track."

You laughed, "God it's torture. I'm convinced it's some personalized hell made for someone's eternal punishment and I do not envy them."

Peter and Ned laughed along with you, Peter saying, "Yeah I bet. We all know how much you love your control."

You gasped, eyebrows furrowing, "Peter Parker are you saying I'm a control freak?"

He held up both of his hands in surrender, "No of course not babe," he traded a glance with Ned when you weren't looking. 

"Anyway," he propped an elbow on the table, rested his head on his palm, and made a motion with his other hand, "continue."

You looked at Ned, "Are you sure I'm not boring you," you asked, shoving your hand in Peter's face when he went to argue.

"Of course not Y/N! Wild, out-of-control theater kids is a favorite subject of mine," he grinned and you huffed a laugh. 

"Fine, it's not as easy as I thought'd it be I'll say that. There's always someone way out of line, either singing songs from musicals at the top of their lungs or fighting someone else with the props. One time a kid started climbing the curtain bags and it was disastrous."

You told them all the funny stories you had from the past rehearsals and how you couldn't wait for the upcoming ones. 

"Hey these sound fun how come I haven't been to one yet," Peter asked, referring to the rehearsals. 

You scoffed, "Please Parker, you can barely make it to a date. There's no way you're gonna make it to one of these."

Peter felt a wave of guilt rush over him. He'd been leaving you hanging a lot lately. 

"I'm sorry Y/N/N, really I am. But I want to come to one of these. I want to see you doing your thing. In fact, when's the next one I'll be there," he sounded so sure of himself but you weren't. 

"Um," you hesitated, not really sure if you should answer him, "They're every other day after school until opening night. But Peter, honestly, you don't have to come I know how busy your schedule is and you barely fit in things that you need to do, I seriously doubt you have the time to voluntarily do this," you told him, refusing to get your hopes up. 

"Hey," he leaned closer to you, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately but I promise I'm going to be there for you today."

"Peter," you said quietly not being able to meet his eyes and that alone made his heartbreak, "Don't make promises you can't keep. That never ends well."

"Hey if I said I'll be there, then I'll be there. come on, gotta have a little more faith in me than that sweetheart," he smiled a little, letting it grow into a grin when he saw your lips tugging up at the corners of your mouth. 

"Promise," you asked. 

"Promise," he confirmed, leaning in for a sweet kiss. Maybe he could really be there for you this time instead of-

Something hit the side of your face making you both turn your heads towards your other friend. You looked down to find a bunch of rolled-up napkins lying on the floor. 

"Well as glad as I am that y'all got that settled, let us remember that this is a public space," Ned said making you both laugh. 

"So it's settled, meet you in the auditorium after last period right," Peter asked you, trying to make sure he had the times correct. 

"Oh," you replied, a little shocked that he was actually doing this, "Yeah, if you're showing up then I guess so."

peter laughed, "Y/N come on, what did we just have an entire conversation about? Of course, I'm showing up."

You nodded slowly then looked towards Ned, "I didn't hit my head anywhere just a minute ago, did I?" 

Ned just shrugged, "I'm just as surprised as you are Y/N. Peter needs to step up his game and I'm sure the internship can wait an evening. After all," he gave Peter a hard look before an amused expression took over his face, "After all, what is an internship if not just running around making copies of random things and memorizing dozens of different coffee orders."

"Hey man come on, we've been over this." he nodded his head towards you and widened his eyes slightly, but you didn't notice, too busy taking a sip from your chocolate milk, "This isn't just any internship. I have to be available at every moment in case Mr. Stark decides he needs me on something."

"Mhm, whatever," Ned took a bite of his sandwich, "All I'm saying is that no matter how important it is, you need to learn to divide up your time evenly."

"Don't worry Ned, I'll be sure to sign him up for some time management classes," you said seriously, making Ned choke on his food from laughter. 

Peter sighed, one arm still resting on the table, the palm of it holding his head. his other arm tucked away under the table, hand holding yours. 

you were feeling amazing, your mood completely lifted now. Peter was finally making the first step to fix things after your many failed attempts. Things could start going back to how they were at the beginning of your relationship. sweet, caring, and mutual. 

You were so sick of feeling like this whole thing was one-sided but now things finally looked like they were turning up. 

Little did you know. 

When the day finally ended you couldn't wait. Spending time with Peter while hanging out with your new friends (somewhat, you weren't really sure but you were optimistic) seemed like it be such a good time. Almost too good to be true. 

You rushed towards your locker and gathered your stuff before shooting Peter a text that you'll just meet him in the auditorium. 

You arrived there before anyone else, which was typical, everyone would be wandering the halls with their friends for a while before making their way here. The cast and crew might mess around a bit but in the end, they were extremely passionate about what they did and you knew that in the end, the show would be amazing. They were all incredibly talented. 

little by little everyone started filing in in little groups. You searched them all for Peter but he was never a part of them. Oh well, he was probably caught up with Ned and MJ at the moment. He'll be here in a bit. 

When the majority of people were present you, reluctantly, decided you had to get things started whether Peter was here yet or not. Everyone had to start getting to work and he should be here any minute now. 

"Ok everyone, you've been wandering around long enough. Time to get started," you clapped your hands together, a clipboard held under your arm, "Noah, Jack, and Lacy we've got to start making progress on the set and I don't want paint everywhere we've had one paint fight too many," you narrowed your eyes at Noah and Jack who looked down sheepishly. It had been a mess. It'd looked as if a pride parade had thrown up all over the stage. 

"This background is our last chance and if you mess it up again we'll probably have to cancel and if that happens, I will not hesitate to unleash Lexi on you," you gestured towards the girl who glared at them and you could've sworn you saw them pale which made smile a small smile. 

You pulled out your clipboard to skim through and see what was on the agenda. "Where's our light-man," you asked and looked up. Everyone shrugged looking around until a girl, Martha, spoke, "Lenny had a teacher meeting, he's running a bit late but he'll be here."

You nodded, "Martha that reminds me, how's your mom doing with the costumes? does she have everything she needs?" 

Martha nodded quickly, "Measurements and everything. All of them should be ready a few days before the big day and she'll be here that night for any mending that might be needed." She shot you two big thumbs up. 

"Good, good, good," you muttered under your breath. You looked around at everyone and shrugged lightly, "OK so I guess everyone just rehearse your lines, get to work and we should be good for the next couple of hours."

Chatter quickly spread across the large room as everyone got together working and talking. You sat down on a seat and let out a long sigh. You tugged your phone out of your pocket and looked for a new message from Peter. There was nothing. You sent two more and added a call for good measure. He didn't pick up, it just rang all the way through. Maybe he got caught up with a teacher. Or maybe he got detention and didn't get a chance to tell you. 

You had more important things to get to and Peter would get here whenever he got the chance. He'd promised after all. So you shouldn't worry about it too much. 

You started making rounds around all the groups of working teenagers, stopping when you saw Lexi waving you over to her little group which mostly consisted of the main cast. 

You walked over to them, "And how's everything going over here? Any trouble?" They all shook their heads. 

"Actually, I think we're getting along rather well, it's a great cast you've rounded up here miss Y/L/N," Mrs. Lightbody said, making you feel extremely proud. 

"I actually wanted to talk to you," Lexi said kindly. 

"Oh? What's up, Lex." She grabbed your hand and led you a little farther away from the group, turning and shooting them a quick reassuring smile. 

Lexi was the star of the whole play, playing the main character, so you'd worked with her closely these past few weeks. She helped you with even the slightest things so you wouldn't get too stressed or anxious (she claimed you were the only sane person in the whole group and it needed to stay that way). She was undoubtedly the most excited person about the whole play and you couldn't blame her, you could already tell from just practice that she was going to do amazing. She was on the popular side where school cliques were involved, but she was always such a sweetheart. She quickly became a great friend of yours and you hoped it stayed that way even after the play and all these fun little get-togethers were over. 

"Hey, Y/N I noticed you seemed a little off before. I'm sorry if I'm out of line saying this but I just wanted to check in on you and make sure everything was okay. Anything going on? I'm always here to listen if you need to talk," she smiled one of her heartwarming smiles. 

You were a little shocked that she'd noticed, "Thanks Lex, really, but I'm fine I promise. but thank you so much for looking out for me."

she had a look on her face like she didn't believe you but she didn't push it, which you appreciated, "ok well if you decide you want to talk about I'm always around I promise," she grabbed you into a hug which you gladly accepted. she pulled away and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to the group. 

You loved her but really there was nothing wrong. Because Peter was gonna show up. Even if he hadn't answered you yet. He's gonna show up, follow you like a lost puppy, and marvel at your every move in that way of his to the point where it got annoying, and you were gonna make him swear to never come to one of these again. To which he would pout and give you puppy-dog eyes and you'd both forget whatever it was you'd said. 

He had to come. otherwise, you might seriously start considering Ned's words from earlier. or you won't be her boyfriend for much longer. 

Peter had to show up because maybe your whole relationship was on the line. 

An hour of a bunch of nonsense arguing passed until you finally heard the press of the large auditorium doors opening up. 

Your heart flew when you saw the large mess of brunette curls turned to close the doors. however, your hope quickly deflated as soon as the figure turned around. it was just Lenny the light-man. 

"Lenny, great. I need you to start working on the lights and getting them ready," you told him. He nodded and quickly made his way backstage. 

You were totally bummed. peter hadn't even replied to you so you had no clue what was going on. you'd even gone so far as to text Ned who'd just sent you a shrugging emoji and an apology for not knowing where he was. 

You felt a little broken, with each passing minute, your hope that your boyfriend might still show up dying down. 

You were desperate so you walked down to the side of the stage where Lexi was chatting with her 'co-star' Brad Davis, who played her love interest. 

You walked up to them, your hand lightly grabbing Lexi's shoulder which brought her attention to you, "Can I talk to you," you whispered. She nodded quickly. You looked towards Brad whose attention was already on you, "Is it alright if I just steal her for a moment," you sent him a fake smile. He smiled back, "No don't worry about it, she's all yours."

He looked like he was might say something else but you didn't give him the chance to before dragging your friend away from all the commotion, "I'm ready to talk now."

She looked at you knowingly before sitting down and patting the spot next to her. So you sat and you told her everything. You told her about all the missed dates, how sometimes he'd just ignore you completely making it impossible to reach him and come back and act like nothing happened, how it always seemed like he was hiding something, and how you were so tired. 

And she listened, of course, never making you feel like you were being overdramatic, and making you feel something that Peter always failed to. Seen. 

When you finally finished Lexi looked at you with total sympathy-eyes, you hated it but you sucked it up because you had chosen to talk to her. 

"Permission to speak freely?" she asked hesitantly. You nodded quickly, "Yes of course, please do that's why I came to you in the first place." 

"Dump his ass," she deadpanned. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at her. "Really?" you asked. She nodded, "Y/N, I love you but it's obvious that this boy doesn't. Because if he did there's no way he'd test you like that, I mean, he's standing you up right now when he promised he'd be here. I say end it before it gets worse. But hey," she held up both hands, "If you think I'm out of line saying that I totally understand but I'm just telling you what I'd do if I was in your shoes."

"You think I should dump him," you mumbled looking down, not really believing it. You'd thought about it sure, what would happen if you two weren't together anymore but you'd never considered it an option, let alone a solution. 

"Thanks, Lex, I'll think about it," you gave her a tight smile and she smiled back. "I just hope you do whatever feels best for you Y/N, you've been looking down lately and you don't deserve that." She gave your hand a squeeze and one last smile before she went back to practice. 

You weren't seriously thinking about ending things with Peter, you were too scared to lose him. Your friendship was more important than any relationship ever could be. But the longer he went as a no-show the more it ran through your brain for the rest of rehearsal. Peter never texted or called. You were desperate for a simple "sorry" at this point, not wanting to have to settle for the worst option. But as time went on, the less it seemed like an option and more like a task. Something you had to do, that had to be done—something new to check off your clipboard. 

Rehearsal ended and people left in groups as they had come. You lingered, smiling and saying you had just a few things to check up on before you left whenever someone took regard for your incessant hovering. Soon enough you were the only person in the big empty room. 

You sat at the edge of the stage, legs dangling, and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You sent one last text, we need to talk. 

After about ten minutes of waiting there, you decided it was getting late and you had to get home before it was too dark. maybe you could convince your parents to let you head over to Peter's after dinner and you could get over with it then. your mind was made up. you were gonna break up with him. 

You gathered your things and made your way up to the big double doors. The hallways were quiet and you were hyperaware of every step of yours. It was weird to see the school so dead, a big contrast to the usual packed hallways. The more you thought about it the more it was like you could almost hear the running footsteps of students. No scratch that, student. Okay at this point it started sounding too real.

You turned around to catch your boyfriend speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop when you saw you. 

"Oh my god Y/N, I'm so sorry I totally lost track of time. I was just helping May out with a few things and next thing I know-" 

You held up a hand to stop him, "Save it Peter I really don't care." 

His face fell, "But, hey, let me make it up to you! Let's go get some ice cream or something. You can tell me what rehearsal was like today and I'll walk you home after. It's getting dark."

You crossed your arms. you almost wanted to agree but you knew better than that, this whole thing was getting way too much for you to handle. 

"Peter I'm done," you told him simply. he looked at you a little confused, "done...done with what?"

"This," you almost screamed as you pointed at the two of you, "I'm done with this, this whole act because, let's face it, we both know you weren't helping May with shit." you were surprised you had gotten this far without crying and you wanted to keep it that way so you sucked in a breath and tried to steady your heartbeat. 

The guilty look in his eyes told you enough. you were right. he moved the slightest step closer but you moved back, you really didn't feel like touching him at the moment. "come on sweetheart," he said weakly, "there's gotta be something I can do. I promise I'll show up on time more, you'll never have to wait for me again. I'll be around you so much you'll get sick of me. just please don't do this."

"That's the thing, Peter," you groaned, "I don't want to be sick of you but I'm sick of the way you keep treating me. you make me feel like shit Peter. you're my boyfriend and you make me feel terrible. and I keep trying to help you out, coming up with different excuses each time but I've finally run out. I want a stable relationship and you can't give me that so I'm done." 

His eyes were red now and you had to push back the guilt you were feeling, he brought this upon himself. it's true, you wouldn't have done this unless it was absolutely necessary. you loved him but you just couldn't handle it anymore. 

"I can," his voice broke slightly on that last word, "I can give you that y/n just give me another chance to show you." 

You huffed, "Well Peter, part of a stable relationship is honesty. can you be honest and tell me where you were today? 'Cause it's been established that you weren't with May."

He froze a little and you continued, "In fact, why don't you tell me where you were when you missed all those dates, all those couple hangouts, and all those group hangouts? When you missed my parents' anniversary dinner that they invited you to, or my little brother's birthday party that he was really excited you'd be there for. Go ahead Pete," you flung out your arms, "tell me where you were and I'll believe you can give me a stable relationship."

He looked physically conflicted, as if he was genuinely having an inner battle with himself, "I- I can't y/n/n, but you have to believe me when I say it's for the best."

"And I can't Peter. I can't so just forget this," you cleared your throat, "Come back when you can actually handle a relationship Parker, or you know what, don't because either way, I'm through with this."

You turned to walk away. his hand reached out to grab your wrist but you dodged it and held your hand up, "I don't think we should talk anymore," you kept walking and he didn't follow. You didn't want him to. But in all honesty, it was hard to turn your back when the person you were leaving was always the one you ran to when your heart shattered as it did right then. 

the cold air hit you hard and the tears finally came, slightly smudging the concealer under your eyes but you couldn't care less at the moment. 

It was true what he'd said, it was dark already and windy so you tried to be alert on your way home, deciding you could process all your emotions when you're home safe. 

You were walking for a bit, wiping your tears and trying to keep your vision clear when you heard a slight thud next to you and footsteps matching up to catch yours. "Hello Miss, it's pretty dark, can I walk you home?"

part 2 is here !!

[jennifer-jeong]

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

[Fluff + Slight Angst] [Xiao/Wanderer x Reader] Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

[fictionobsession]

devotion

Pairing: Alastor x f!Reader

Summary: She would give anything for him.

Word Count: 1,997

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, Alastor being psychotic

A/N: okay friends, first time writing for Al. this was not beta'd or really edited at all so if something seems weird just... assume I meant to fix it. also, this was written as a QPR, but there's a little feelings on reader's side if you squint. I'm not 100% on how in character this is for Alastor, but we tried and that's what matters right

---

She plopped onto the shitty couch and pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the shitty house where they'd been hiding out in the middle of this shitty swamp for the last two shitty weeks. The wallpaper was peeling and yellowed, the floors covered in mold and mildew, the running water only worked half the time, and, more importantly, the refrigerator was empty as of six nights prior. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about a nice juicy cut. She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into the daydream of food.

She knew when she'd gotten into this hobby with Alastor that there was a non-zero chance she would wind up on the run someday. She just wished they could have put it off a bit longer, had a bit more fun. She laid her head back against the rotting couch until she heard the creak of the floor near the front door.

Her eyes snapped open and her brows furrowed as she took in Alastor's hunting attire.

“Al, where do you think you're going?”

“Well, my dear, unless you feel like us both starving to death in this dismal abode, I thought I'd better go get some food.”

“Alastor. You know we've heard the dogs nearby. You can't possibly go out there without getting caught, at least until we've had a couple days where we haven't heard 'em.”

“Again, starving is not on my agenda, so we don't particularly have another choice.”

Another choice. Her face hardens as she realizes what another option might be. She stood up and crossed the room, grabbing Alastor's arm before he could open the door. “There is a way for us to make it out of this without you leaving. Or rather, a way for one of us to make it out of this.”

He hummed, and she could see the wheels turning as he put together what she was implying. “I'm not sacrificing myself for you to get away, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm just asking you to get it over with quickly. You'll get more time, and I – well, I'll at least get to go out on my own terms. If I have to go, at least it'll be for you.”

His eyes widened just a bit, more reaction than she'd usually get, before he shrugged. “Okay. Painless it is. Not usually my style, but I think I can figure it out.”

She laughed, a genuine, full laugh. “I know, Al, and that's why we've worked out so well. But I think you could at least do that much for me.”

He pulled his hunting knife from where he had already slid it into his belt. “Are you ready?”

And with one nod, everything went black.

-

It seemed instantaneous, appearing in hell. She looked around, taking in the chaos around her. Literal dumpster fires, public sex, casual street murders, Hell had it all. Of course, arriving in Hell wasn't a surprise for her. You don't kill that many people and expect to get into Heaven. She wasn't even sure she had believed in the whole afterlife thing until she was experiencing it. She shrugged it off, finding the closest place with a mirror she could use for free.

Her body was... different, certainly. But intact, and honestly, she was quite happy with it. Given the various types of demons she'd seen just in her brief time there, it could've been a lot worse. She wandered, putting together a plan of action for getting herself set up in Hell. It seemed she would need income to make most things happen, which made finding a job a top priority. She also needed a place to sleep, as it seemed unsafe at best to stay on the streets.

She got a job fairly quickly at Ozzie's, though she wasn't thrilled with the outfit they made her wear for the whole thing. But it was money, and easy work, so she stuck with it. Asmodeus offered her a fairly decent rate on rent nearby, as well, so she could have done worse.

Shortly after getting settled, she started feeling pressure on her body in random locations and at seemingly random times, almost like someone was grabbing or poking her to get her attention. Occasionally she'd get hot spots, which she at first attributed to it being hot in Hell. Little scrapes and cuts would appear sometimes as well, but they always healed up quickly. It wasn't until the final time it happened that she realized what had been happening over the past few weeks.

A perfect bite imprint appeared on her forearm, accompanied by a sharp pain, and she realized it must have been an effect of Alastor in the living world. She traced her finger over the mark, which had healed into almost a scar, but not quite. It was a bit pink, but wasn't angry and fresh. She smiled a little to herself, happy that her sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As time went on, she found herself tracing the mark when she was feeling stressed, upset, or particularly lonely. It never healed all the way, making it always a bit sensitive to touch, and served as a reminder of why she was here. The mark always made her feel closer to Al, which brought a little comfort when things got crazy.

She had managed to stay within the same few blocks that she knew were heavily policed by Asmodeus's people. However, six months into her stay in Hell, she finally had to leave her little neighborhood to buy some things for the bar. She packed her gun, a knife, and made sure she was dressed inconspicuously – the rumors about the surrounding areas were very...detailed...about what might happen to someone who ended up on the wrong side of a fight.

Unfortunately, her preparation didn't keep her from getting spotted by some Sharks outside the store as she started back toward her apartment. She tried to hurry, sliding between demons and other sinners, before slipping down an alley to attempt to lose her tail. It was too late by the time she realized it was a dead end, and the Sharks started cutting off her only entrance.

She took one step, two, keeping them in her sight until her back hit the brick wall behind her. Her hand reached for her gun, ready to pull it when the lead Shark got close enough. Their glares were paralyzing, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol on them at that distance. She felt herself start to shake, taking a deep breath to steady herself before -

“You wouldn't want people to think you're picking on those of fairer means would you?” The sound and feeling of static crackled through the air like lightning as a dark shape enveloped the opening to the alleyway. A long, thin shadow ripped through the air, straight through the lead Shark, throwing him against the side of the neighboring building.

Green sparks shone through the seemingly infinite blackness, a pair of what could only be described as antlers growing from the approaching shape. Two more tendrils, picking up the remaining Sharks and tossing them into the air like dolls. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't look away from the gore. Sure, she had seen a lot of violence in her time in Hell, but she hadn't seen that level of overkill in quite some time.

As the last of the Sharks fled only to get a tendril through the skull, she pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, sliding down the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. There was only the hope that the demon forgot she existed, and the knowledge that if he hadn't, she would likely be next up for second death.

The shadow approached, darkness fading as he got closer until finally it revealed a man. A tall man, with horns, but just a man, nonetheless. He was straightening out his red coat, and twirling something around in his hands as he approached. “Always good to have an excuse to let off a little steam. Always good.”

He put a hand out to help her up. As she lifted herself off the ground, he was already vaguely shaking her hand, introducing himself. “Name's Alastor, pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure.”

His name hit her ears about the time he caught a glimpse of her bite, and both stopped dead in the middle of introductions. She looked up, eyes widening as she realized that yes, that was a microphone, and yes, in fact, it had been quite a while since she'd seen that level of overkill, one could even say since her living days. He looked different now, sure, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that was her Al.

“Well maybe don't wait so long to come save my ass next time, eh, Al?” She smirked up at him, waiting for him to process what was happening. His nails traced the pattern of his own bite on her arm. She caught sight of his tongue tracing across his teeth, as if he was just then realizing how different they'd really become. “I bet your imprint looks a bit different now, doesn't it?” She spoke more to herself than to him as she reached to pull her sleeve down over the mark.

“Why, I should hope so, my dear. I should very much hope so. Let's see just how much it's changed then!” Without any more warning than that, he pulled her arm to his mouth and bit, hard. The new mark bled, sure, but it healed up more quickly than it probably should have, covering his old impression with his new one. His ears twitched subconsciously, his ever-present smile nearly faltering as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down her arm. He shook himself out of whatever thoughts were distracting him rather quickly before acting like no time had passed at all since they'd been together last. “Now, I don't think I should leave you alone again. It seems to me that you still can't stay out of trouble, my dear! Come along, let me show you where I've been staying!”

“But – Hang on! Al! I've got to go to work!”

“Ah, there'll be no more need of that anymore. We'll send a notice to... whoever you're working for when you get settled.” He raised an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue. She knew, though, that she'd never gone against what he'd wanted before, and she didn't particularly want to start now. She took the elbow he'd offered her and allowed him to lead her out of the alley.

Occasionally, as they walked, she would catch sight of a shadow that seemed to be following them.

“Oh, don't mind them. They're just keeping an eye on your wellbeing. You better get used to it! Having a friend like me, why, other overlords will just be dying to get their hands on you!”

She scoffed, a look of adoration crossing her features before she tactfully replaced it with annoyance. “I'm not going to get any rest now, am I?”

“Oh contraire, ma cherie! You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserved. I owe you that after what you did for me up there, wouldn't you say?”

“Oh I just can't wait to show you Cannibaltown! You've got to meet Rosie, yes. You'll get along very well, very well indeed. And she makes the most delectable little treats! Maybe we'll go by tomorrow.”

As he continued rambling, she hummed approval when appropriate, watching him out of the corner of her eye with a mix of caution and longing. As he led her down streets she'd never seen before, she realized maybe this was all her afterlife had needed after all.