#tw conversion camp mention

[mcltiples]

@evilmcg sent; "So yeah that's why I killed my dad and to a lesser extent my mom. But my dad really had it coming!" evilmcg for prime rick (opening up about her past abuse)

Well, didn't that sound oddly familiar. Sure, it might've not been exactly the same as his past. However, he could relate heavily to that. Especially the last part she mentioned. When he thought back on it, he felt a spark of amusement.

"Woah, sounds like the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree. In this case, I'm the tree," He knelt down to her height, making eye contact with her for a few brief seconds. "Actually, I went through something similar..."

It wasn't often that Rick opened up about his past. No one knew except for one other person. Someone who was long gone out of his life now. So sharing this with Meg -- someone that he considered a friend and a daughter-figure. It was important.

"My dad wasn't nearly as malicious or dumb as yours --- he was the epitome of masculine energy. All he wanted was a son who got shit done and would take over the farm, maybe marry a nice girl, have kids, grandkids, y-you know -- the whole American Dream,"

Rolling his eyes, he continued, casually as ever. "Well, problem was, I wasn't the kind of kid who got shit done, nor did I want to marry a girl or have kids, let alone fucking grandkids," He let out a hollowed chuckle. "And so he chose to think I was gay and he hated that,"

All those younger years came flooding to his mind. The therapist appointments, being sent away to certain camps, so many insults and forced heteronormativity. So much pain and torture. Yet, his facial features didn't falter. Completely detached from what he told.

"So, one night, I took this axe and I waited until my parents were sleeping," His lips curled into a twisted grin, bright blue eyes glazed over with nothingness. "And I fucking swung it into my father first, I kept going while my mother screamed for me to stop, and once I got annoyed with it, I fucking ended her life too,"

With a laugh, he stood up, hands on his hips. It was as if he had just told a lighthearted story. "Anyway, we have a lot in common, who woulda thought? But hey, that means we gotta stick together, right? You, me, the Mortys, and maybe their Ricks. We'll make one big happy family."

[targaryenluvs]

— newcomer

pairing: dark!luke castellan x childofaphrodite!reader

summary: luke becomes quite infatuated with you, the newcomer of the camp.

tw: obsession, stalking, distancing from friends, intimidation, luke is like deep in love, my horrible attempt at describing love? kinda lovebomby, mentions of violence/luke attacking others

word count: 1k words

a/n: my second pjo fic! i think percy is next 👀 - i don’t think i outright described a female reader, let me know if i did so i can change it!! i i’m going to try and be more inconspicuous with genders to fit all ❤️

right from the start, luke could tell there was something special about you.

of course he was to introduce himself to the new kids but for once he wanted to meet you. with a warm smile and his reassuring words, you were made to feel at home quite quickly.

you’d thought of luke being friendly in general before learning of the hermes cabin and his welcoming nature, but it didn’t seem to change anything between the two of you. luke was an excellent guide in your eyes, helping you settle into your new life, you were undeniably thankful for him.

he was a pitstop for many, if not all campers once they entered the place, a familiar face to help them all. but for you he seemed to go above and beyond. he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and he believed himself to be the key in your life at camp half-blood to happiness. you made him happy.

your bright smile and endearing personality melted his heart, you were a breath of fresh air and he couldn’t wait to bask in it.

even after you were claimed, by aphrodite nonetheless, you stuck around. it made sense to him, you were the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. whether it was a smile from afar or a long conversation, you always made it a point in your day to spend time with him.

you wouldn’t do that for nobody now would you?

no, your sweet self was kind, especially to him. you liked him, like he liked you, and he’d be damned if he let you go.

you seemed to be the only person who didn’t notice his disdain towards those around you. the way he’d linger around the ares boy who’d been chatting you up at breakfast, the same boy who’d been attacked from behind during capture the flag, suffering a nasty slice on his back.

or how he’d humiliated one of your friends during archery, correcting their stance, taunting their attempts to hit the bullseye, throwing them off and laughing at them when they missed. it was all in good fun, right?

he was like a shadow, unwavering and lurking.

it wasn’t uncommon to find luke a few metres away from wherever you were. to find him accompanying you to dinner, to find the two of you practicing together early in the morning, alone, to focus better of course. slowly but surely he wriggled his way back into your life, all consuming and prominent.

until it was seen as odd to find you alone.

seemingly tied together, woven, meant to be. you completed him, you made him feel alive. you made luke feel electric, on fire almost. your presence and touch began to comfort him most, your voice being the only one to bring him down.

and when you were taken from him, whether by others or in general, he was unbearable.

the shining luke castellan crumbled without his support. he needed you, depended on you, like fire and oxygen, plants and sunlight, a song and dance. you kept him going, you filled his life with purpose, he wasn’t luke castellan, son of hermes, counseller, confidante, friend.

he was lu, he was yours, he was your ‘sunshine’.

and as if he wasn’t already insatiable with you as his friend, when you’d admitted your crush on him, luke was on a whole other level.

“lu,” he hummed, turning his head your way, “i want, i need to tell you something.” the soft grass, the warm sun and gentle breeze, they all calmed his erratic heart. what did you have to say? he despised the idea of not knowing what you were thinking.

luke waited with bated breath, his nails digging into his palm, pressure building, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that you’d notice, he wouldn’t let you. “what is it sweetheart?” the two of you were sitting now, previously laid next to eachother on the picnic blanket.

“i think, i think i like you.”

and how could you not?

luke was the epitome of a gentleman, the kindest man you’d ever met. he made you feel special, you could always rely on your sunshine. in the months the two of you had known each other, it seemed he now knew you like the back of his hand. what you liked, what you disliked, the places you wanted to go and the places you’d been. you’d bared your soul to him, and you could only pray he loved you as you did him.

he was your strength, your courage, your friend, even if you hoped for more. he’d been there for you since the start, and you’d be forever grateful. so why not raise your relationship? fully commit to the one person who knew everything?

he’d crafted himself to be yours, to be everything you could ever wish for, as you were for him. luke had been waiting for your complete devotion, and he had it now, no one could make him let go. people often came and went in his life, leaving him in the past, he often felt taken advantage of, he gave up on the idea of someone to stay.

but you’d stay, blind with devotion and poisoned by his love, who on earth and in the heavens could treat you better than him?

your loyal luke.

“well i have a secret for you, only you.”

your eyes lifted to meet his, a small smile on your lips, “tell me luke,” his hand reached for yours, “what’s your secret?” your favourite flower, suddenly pulled from behind your head, placed behind your ear.

“i love you too.” he surged forwards, capturing you by surprise.

was this bliss? is this what it felt to be in love?

luke was intoxicating, his strong hands and loving voice, it consumed you. it was all so much, and it was all you’d ever wanted.

but a small voice in the back of your head was prominent.

you’d never said a single thing about love.

[sashi-ya]

HIS MONT BLANK hoshina soshiro x f! reader. bite kink

⋆ requested by: @omeowie - hello, I love your Hoshina x Reader fanfics a lot 💙 I love your writing style, how you build reader’s characteristics and situations so can I request a Hoshina Soshiro x Reader fic for the mini event. NSFW please 🥹 With bite kink and dirty talk if you’re comfortable with it. I would love to see a possessive or yandere Hoshina. But honestly, I would enjoy any Hoshina x Reader work from you. I wish you all the best and I will waiting for every of your fic. Thank you so much. 💕💕 ⋆tw: mdni. explicit smut. bite kink. some dirty talking here and there. nipple play and raw vag sex in a tent. Kafka x Mina mentioned, sorry not sorry, I just want those two to fuck already. ⋆wc: 2.1K // event masterlist // tagging some of you cause I know you want this man: @aries-m0rningstar @shaderynshidou @stargirlstabber @loyard176

You are probably wondering why squad 3 ended up on a camping trip to the Shiraiwa Falls, a scenic nature location one hour from the Tachikawa base. I have no idea, but what I do know is what happened that not very warm summer night...

Everybody seems to be in good spirit; Kaiju aren’t at all a problem during this night. The JAKDF vans rest at the very end of the road next to the Ooba Camp Village, and the tents have been properly set up. A very taken care of a bonfire also have been set, yet everybody is happy Ichikawa have brought with him many blankets for extra warmth. The humid nature of the place, and the “Tsuyu” or rain season made the nights of Hinode a little colder than the rest of the day.

Some of the guys, who -as always- have exceeded themselves during the day by climbing and acting like little animals playing here and there in the nature, are already showing signs of being tired. And even others are already dragging their bodies to the tents.

“You look cold” Hoshina fukutaicho says, as he comes closer to you. “A little bit…” you answer back, a little nervous. For some reason you can’t conceive the idea of a laid-back interaction with him when the rest of the squad’s around. “Come a little closer, I won’t bite you…” he whispers, smiling sweetly.

-oh, Soshiro Hoshina, you shouldn’t lie-

He covers you with the same blanket he is wearing, a proximity that some may or may not see a little bit too much for comrades. A proximity even to you seems too much.

However, nobody is really paying much attention; what everybody seems to be watching at is Kafka and Mina having a very private chat a few meters from the rest. Everybody knows, by any means, that such interaction should not be interrupted. Especially, when you discover Ashiro Taichou is capable of laughing being so close to Kafka.

“mhhh…” Soshiro hums, with a naughty smile. “don’t- bother them” Kikoru immediately intervenes. “Indeed, Shinomiya-chan ~” he sings; and with his usual two fingers up in the air he commands that it is time for everybody to go to sleep.

You beam, sweetly. Everybody knows, and at the same time they don’t. It doesn’t matter where that conversation will lead them, but everybody wants Mina and Kafka to laugh and enjoy their night.

“Which tent are you sleeping in?” Soshiro asks, once you stand up to follow everybody else to the tents.

“I was paired with Captain Mina, so that one” you answer, confused as why he is actually asking that.

“Good, then you are sleeping in mine. I paired myself with Kafka but given the fact that they might want a free tent -and if they don’t I will make them use one- this must be done” Soshiro decrees.

You might wanted to differ, but can you say no to him?

Soon, and after the rest couldn’t notice, you are finally inside the vice-captain tent. You find yourself sitting right on what it could have been Kafka’s sleeping bag, covered still with the blanket Soshiro shared with you. The scent of his manly perfume invades your nose, brain and mind. And your eyes, get full of the image of him taking his jacket off.

Soshiro wearing shorts is a whole new look you aren’t used to; but the compression shirt always stays on. He knows how good it looks on him, and he will explode such tempting imagery to his own benefit.

“Looking something  delicious, (Name)-san?” he asks, playful and naughty. “You ~” you murmur, covering your mouth with the blanket.

Soshiro crawls towards you; the tent isn’t big, so there isn’t room for much. His skilful hands pull from your blanket; he wants to see your body, too.

“You might have to excuse me, but you are the delicious one here my sweet little whore” he whispers, kneeled just in front of you ready to attack your lips.

Before you could say something, he turns off the little lamp. Soshiro is well aware of how shadows can casts on a tent specially if its dark enough on the outside.

A subtle light that comes from the silver moon, filters through the fabric of the Izumo tecs tent. It’s enough; you don’t really need the light to see each other’s bodies. Hands all over can travel through the mounts and valleys of your anatomies; lips all over too. Teeth can carve flesh, and tongue taste the taste of lust and needs.

“You smell so sweet, (Name). Did you use this perfume to make me fuck you, my dolce little whore? You want me to bite all over your tits?” he murmurs, inhaling the scent from the small of your neck. Those words hit you hard, your core gets more wet than before.

As if you were a honeyed Mont Blanc, Soshiro’s mouth begins to water. His hand land on your mandible, grabbing your chin with his palm, letting his thumb dive into your mouth and using enough force to move your head to the side.

With your neck exposed, now, he is able to take of bite of your dessert skin. The prominence of his fangs have always been a problem, or maybe just a blessing. Sharp, honed. Enough pressure can tear, rend the flesh. Just as his blades, so precise and deadly…

“Did I say I wouldn’t bite you? I will, actually” he smirks. You can’t see, but you can feel his lips curling up like a devil ready to be as mischievous as he pleases.

Because you allow it. Because you want it to. Because he says so, too.

The first bite came soft, the second one a little harder. The thumb inside your mouth, dampened in saliva, travels from the commissure of your lips towards your neck and chest.

There, where the zipper of your sports shirt is, his fingers reach. Soshiro lowers it, allowing your breasts to pop just like he likes it. Pointy nose buries just in the valley of your collarbones, going down, inhaling more and more of your sweet perfume.

“Ugh… I can’t stop myself. I just want to leave bruises all over this beautiful needy skin of yours” he grunts, getting his fangs ready to bite yet again. This time, with your hips already straddled on his lap. His hardness pushing strong against your core, so much that even the sport shorts feel tight on him.

Every bite makes you flinch; you react with little spasms. He never bites in order, if there is even an order to devour someone. Almost like a cannibal, he keeps bruising your delicate skin, with a painful and yet so delicious sensation. Soshiro could spend the rest of the night just like this, and you will be thankful even if he dared to drew blood out of you.

Down, down to your nipples he goes. Soshiro immediately covers your mouth with his palm, because he knows those little sweet whimpers must only be heard by him, and him only.

Nibbling on your right one, you shudder. Harder, Hoshina fukutaicho.

The tip of his left fang seems to pierce your extra sensitive tissue, enough to trigger a desperate need for your core to graze against his erection.

“My needy little Mont Blanc, come on move on top of my dick, pleasure yourself go ahead” he scoffs. Soshiro encourages you to move on top of him, to hump on him, with his palm squeezing your ass cheeks and pushing you towards him.

Your hands land on his shoulders; oh, the strong, well-trained shoulders of a blade specialist. Your nails, that imitate his teeth, carve marks into the very beginning of his shoulder blades as the biting on your breasts turn more and more violent.

And Soshiro wants more. You definitely want it too. Thus, slowly, but surely your back finally hits the not so comfy surface of the sleeping bag.

His hands land on each side of your head, pinned in missionary position by your hungry superior and lover. A trail of saliva on the commissure of his mouth shines with the weak moonlight passing through the zipper of the tent. The same goes for your upper body; you are trembling, feeling as the wet spots where his teeth have been get colder with a soft breeze.

Your shaky hands reach for the lower hem of his shirt; as much as you may love that compression piece of clothing, you love his pale skin the most.

“Take it off…” you murmur, perhaps pleading for mercy because you are sure this is just the start of this man’s sharp torture.

He smiles, devilishly; the fangs that sometimes are too cute to handle, now show how dangerous they could really be.

Soshiro takes off his shirt, then, looking like the star of a men strip club. Or maybe it is just that his tiny waist seems to be deadly dancing every time he moves.

You swallow, snaking your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you. He gasps, Soshiro is very used to lead the way, not the other way around. However, he is absolutely lost in need to think much further.

Your eyes interlock; fixed into each other, hungry, desperate. Maybe in another time there will be more time for more foreplay, but not tonight.

You didn’t even notice when it happened, but your pants were off as fast as he can subjugate a Kaiju. His, pulled down by your toe hooked into the hem of his shorts, tangle around his strong hips.

“It’s gonna be raw, babe” he lets you know, half panting, half serious. “I know” you confess, you don’t want it any other way despite the risks.

Soshiro takes a big gasp of air, you are being the death of him. First, your sweet perfume, then your sweet taste and now your desperation for his sex. He then proceeds to lift your left leg up to his waist; he wants to go deeper the mere moment he is inside of you.

“Spread it like this” he murmurs, biting your knee from the side. Soshi positions himself a little to the side, in a delicious way to enter, pumping his throbbing shaft just a little to coat it entirely with the sprouting precum oozing from his tip.

You, on the other side, swear that the poor sleeping bag is already wet from your honeys. And you are not wrong, but things are about to get even more damp.

Slowly, because he can be fast and deadly, but also painfully unrushed, the tip barely lets your folds to engulf it. Your toes curl, it feels like rapture, like total ecstasy. Warmth against warmth, sliding so easily inside, stretching walls just perfectly slow.

The broad shoulders of Soshiro seem to become larger, his frame bigger. You can only imagine the look from his back, with every muscle moving, every defined line leading to the small of his back.

His abs aren’t the exception, either. The way his perfectly sculped stomach moves to the rhythm of his still superficial short thrusts might be enough to make you come. What a beautiful blade warrior he is.

“More…” “More? Aren’t you a little desperate bitch of mine?”

Soshiro goes deeper. Deeper than before. His hand lands on your mouth again, your moan stopped, your heart about to jump from your chest.

The rhythm increases. His hips go in and out faster with every impaling motion, and his teeth grip from the bridge of your foot. Even there, he is willing to leave his marks. Even from there, he wanna taste.

And yet, even on the verge of climax, it is not enough for him. Not deep enough… Your shin ends up on his shoulder, a position you weren’t exactly sure your body was capable to be put on.

He lets his body weight fall on top of you, and you can feel how his hardness might be drilling a hole into your insides. This time it is his mouth the one to mutter your orgasmic whines, inhaling the way you barely pronounce a <fuck> mixed with his name.

And now, he goes full throttle. Ah, Soshiro Hoshina, Vice-captain, fast and precise, deadly and wild… Slaps that some might have chosen to ignore during the night, were created with feverish skin against skin. Moans and grunts were engulfed by needy drooling mouths. Climaxes were reached, on and on and on…

Next morning, camping’s women’s bathroom house.

“(Name) what are those marks on your skin?” “Uh… mosquito bites…” “Oh, Captain Ashiro also has them all over her skin! You two forgot to use bug spray last night?!” “How about we stop asking so many questions…”

….

Next morning, camping’s men’s bathroom house.

“Seems mosquitoes were pretty annoying last night… right, Hoshina fukutaichou? Hibino Kafka?” “bwahahaha, they call you bug Hibino Kafka!” 😂 “They are laughing at you too, fukutaicho!!”  -.-

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 3

pt 1 / pt 2 /pt 4

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance, we will get there eventually)

Description: Reader and the ghoul navigate their new, unconventional friendship on their way to Filly. 

TW: Mentions of emotional abuse and bad parenting, slight angst slight fluff, reader has no social skills.

After the ghoul defended me in town, I felt much more comfortable in his presence. I had a new vigor for the adventure in front of us. It was much more exciting than anything I would do on my own. After a couple of hours on the trail, I decided to try and talk to him. However, his demeanor hadn't changed much.

"My name is Y/n, by the way," I said nonchalantly while hiking next to him.

"Don't remember askin'." He responded, refusing to look at me. 

"Just thought you should know." I pouted at his cold response. "Since we are travelin' together and all that."

"Well, now I know." He said, finally looking over at me.

We made eye contact for a moment before he swiftly turned his gaze back to the trail ahead of us. 

"So...." I started. "You ain't gonna tell me your name."

"No." He sighed, obviously getting annoyed as he let out a small cough.

I bit my cheek as I buried my disappointment. "How far to Filly?" I asked quietly.

"About a day" He responded between coughs as he stopped and pulled out some Jet from his pack and added it to his inhaler. I watched, intrigued as he breathed it in deeply. His eyes slowly raked over my body like he was looking for a reaction, but I just gave him an awkward smile.

The two of us continued in silence. I wondered about what a ghoul's life was like. I never met a ghoul before him. How long does it take them to change? The Jet must help keep the side effects at bay. I wondered how long it helps for. What was his life like before he turned into a ghoul? I wished I could ask him, but if his reaction earlier was any indication, he wasn't interested in conversation. I was so lost in thought that I stopped paying attention to the world around me.

The next thing I knew I was squealing as I tripped over a rock and started to fall forward.

"God damn it." I heard him say as he swiftly caught me before I could faceplant into the dirt. He roughly pulled me up and helped me to my feet. 

My face burned with embarrassment. "Thank you," I mumbled out. 

He just scoffed in response before he started walking again. I followed close behind, pouting in silence. 

The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful, but as the day went on I started to get more and more agitated by his silence. Finally, we made camp.

As I gathered up the firewood and brought it back to camp I decided I had had enough. "I want to know your name," I said confidently, dropping the pile at his feet. 

"I want things too, you don't see me bitchin' about it." He mumbled back.

"You are going to be nicer to me, or I am going to leave," I demanded.

This caught his attention as his gaze quickly met mine. I could tell he was trying to gauge if I was serious or not. In all honestly, I wasn't, but I didn't want him to know that so I just stood there, unwavering. 

"You can try." He said menacingly, "But I ain't gonna let you." 

"So, what? I am just your prisoner now? You gonna keep me around till you get hungry?" I said, anger bubbling over in my chest. 

At this, he paused, a look of hurt flashed across his face. However, I was too caught up in my own emotions to notice it.

"Did I go from one man's prisoner to another's?" I asked.

Tears of frustration at his silence started to form in the corner of my eyes before I turned around, grabbed my bag, and stomped off. I didn't go far. I knew as soon as the sun came up I was going to go right back to following him around, so after about 10 minutes I sat up against a tree and let out a sigh. I knew I was acting childish, but in town, I genuinely thought I had made a friend in him. My father never let me have friends. I was forced to stay in the house and look after him and my brothers. I wasn't allowed to have a life of my own. I was naive to think that the ghoul would want to be my friend. As I started to drift off, I heard footsteps coming up behind me. I didn't bother looking because I knew it was him, coming to drag me back as promised.

"Cooper." He said, leaning against the other side of the tree.

"What?" I asked confused.

"My name, darlin'." He responded quietly.

We stayed there in silence for a couple of minutes before I spoke up.

"I was never going to leave," I admitted.

"I know." He said, letting out a small chuckle. "Now get your pretty ass back to camp."

I hummed quietly before grabbing my pack and getting up from the ground. I made my way to the other side of the tree so I could take a look at him. I could barely see him in the dark, but what I could see was eyes staring down at me. "Okay," I whispered.

-

The next day I woke up confused. There was no boot in my side, and Cooper was nowhere to be seen. "Cooper?" I said quietly. When I got no response. "COOPER?" I yelled into the forest. 

"Stop your hollering." I heard him say in the distance.

"Where did you go?" I asked breathlessly.

"Got myself some breakfast." He said nonchalantly as he held up a deformed rabbit while walking towards me.

"Why didn't you wake me? You always wake me." I asked, fear still evident across my face.

He was quiet for a moment before he responded quietly, "I was bein' nice." 

I stared at him in shock while he was trying to look anywhere but at my face. "Oh."

We sat around the fire in silence as he ate the rabbit, I tried not to watch because honestly? That rabbit looked disgusting. While I waited I picked up one of the sticks and drew some stick figures in the dirt. I tried my best to give one a cowboy hat, but I don't think Cooper noticed. Once he was finished we picked up our bags, stomped out the fire, and went on our way again.

After a couple more hours of silence, I decided to try to talk to him again.

"I think you have pretty eyes." I blurted out.

At this, he stopped in his tracks and stared at me like I grew another head. I started to get self-conscious as his gaze bore into me. He was a cocky man, by all means. However, it had been a LONG time since anything about him was considered pretty. 

I grimaced at his reaction "Sorry, I am not very good at conversation." I said sheepishly.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I decided to start walking in the general direction we were going earlier. I honestly had no idea where I was going, but I couldn't bear to stand there under his gaze any longer. After a minute, I could hear him trailing behind me and I felt the tension release from my body.

"No more compliments" I noted to myself.

We continued on in silence for some time before we could finally see Filly in the distance. My feet were raw and blistered from all the walking, so to finally see our destination was a welcome sight. 

I looked back at the ghoul and smiled, "We made it!" 

Much to my surprise, he had a matching smile on his face. I turned back around to Filly, excited to explore. I could feel his eyes on me as I skipped into town, stopping to look at all the stalls on my way past.

"So now what?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Now we wait, Darlin'." He chuckled in response. 

The idea of being there when he caught his bounty filled me with excitement. This was nothing like what I assumed my life would become when I ran away.

tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable

[psychesalcove]

While the others talk, we were listening to Lovers Rock ✮⋆˙

Percy Jackson x Fem. Reader synopsis: You weren't one for parties, so how you found yourself at a Hermes cabin party was beyond you. At least your crush of a couple years was also there. tw: mentions of alcohol and drugs

part of psyches fall writes – want to read some more?

a/n: holy moly guys I'm so so sorry for not posting for over a month. School has been rlly tough the last month: tests, quizzes, assignments, and all that jazz. I just couldn't find the time to write for this blog, and I didn't have much motivation to write with all my English essays I've been having to do. I hope that each and every one of you is doing well, and again, I'm really sorry about not posting for so long!! I hope that you enjoy this loves!:)

You put your plastic cup up to your lips and sipped. It wasn't the best drink, but it was expected for a Hermes cabin party. The lights were flashing from colors that ranged from red to purple, and people were gathered around with their friends, talking about whatever came to mind.

You sighed, you free hand coming up to adjust your strap on your dress. You departed from your friends a couple of minutes ago, your mind going too fast to be doing social interactions at that moment. Yu rarely went to parties that were held at camp; the main reason being Percy.

You had been harboring a crush on him since you first saw him arrive at camp. And everyone else seemed to have the same story as you--how fun. You never really spoke to him, unless you were paired up for an activity or if it was in a group setting. Not that you minded. You think that if you did have one on one conversations with him you wouldn't be able to hold them for longer than three minutes. He was also known to go to every single party that occurred at camp; hence why you didn't go very often.

Speak of the devil, Percy appeared in your eyesight as he came back into the cabin from outside. You took a deep breath and looked at the floor, opting to not look at your long-time crush and make awkward eye contact. As you stared at the old wooden floor like it held all the answers to the universe, you heard a voice from beside you.

"Hi." Percy said. You lifted your head in record time, your eyes immediately finding his. "Sorry, uhm." He lifted his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. You heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded close to 'Gods I'm really bad at this.'

"Do you need something?" You asked and facepalmed yourself mentally. The one-time Percy comes up to you and you sound offended. Great going.

"I was wondering if you would want to come outside with me?" He asked, the words rushing out fast and blending together. You scrunched your eyebrows together, not understanding why he would want you to be out there with him. Seeing your expression, he continued. "I mean, I've never really talked to you before with just you, and I thought it would be nice?"

You nodded your head before you could stop yourself, and now you found yourself walking out the cabin door with Percy. He opened it for you, smiling as you looked at him with what was probably confusion.

As the two of you walked out, the fall air immediately hit you--why you wore a short-sleeved dress was beyond you. There were a couple of picnic tables littered around the cabin, and Percy lead you to the nearest one. As you sat down across from him, he cleared his throat. "Sorry that I did that. It was probably really werid now thinking about it," He laughed, refering to your interaction in the cabin.

You smiled at him. Gods he was really cute when he laughed. "It's fine, Percy." You said, hands coming up to rub your arms as the chili air covered your body.

You watched as his eyes winded a bit, his smile becoming larger. "You know my name?" He asked, hands resting on the table and leaning closer to you.

"Everyone knows your name." You stated, ears picking up on a Sabrina Carpender song coming from the party.

His ears flushed red, and he puffed out his cheeks. "Yeah, but still..." He drawled, hands making a small movment.

You raised your eyebrow. "But what?" You giggled, watching as his face got more red.

"It means a lot when someone like you knows it," he said, rushing his words once again. It took you a second to absorb what he said, but when you did, your cheeks flushed to match his.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, your heart beating slightly faster.

"Like," He blew out a breath. "It means something when you know who I am. I know that we don't know each other very well, or like at all, but for some reason it means something." He rambled, hands making the same motion as earlier.

Before you could say anything, he continued his rant. "Anytime that we've talked, I feel like you see me for who I am and not for what I've done or what I stand for or anything like that." He sucked in a breath. "And I don't even know how I'm as attracted to you as much as I am, I don't even really know you, but I notice you and I want to know you, really, really bad." Your heart skipped a beat, eyes still widened as you watched him.

"I really like you. And I want to know you, for who you are, like you know me. And I know that you probably don't know me very well or anything, but all the times we've talked I've felt like I've known you for years." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, awaiting your response.

When you didn't say anything, he opened his eyes again and looked at you with his pretty green eyes. "And if you don't feel the same way or anything, we can pretend like this never happened and stuff." He quickly explained--as if there was a universe where you wouldn't like him, was your thought as he said that.

"I want to get to know you, too, Percy." You giggled, kind still in a bliss over the words that came out of Percy mere seconds ago. His smile came back onto his face, eyes lighting up like he just got the best news of his life.

"Okay. Thats great." He said, blowing out a breath of air as he took in your answer. "And like, we don't have to start dating or anything right away, if you don't want to. And if you don't want to date at all, cool too," He explained.

You giggled again, taking your hand away from your arms to put it over his hand. "Let's start slow," You mused, watching as he became even more red in the face.

He nodded. "Yeah, slow." Percy squeezed your hand and smiled at you. "But like, it would be really cool to call you my girlfriend," He said, smiling more as you laughed in response.

"Slow, Perce."

He giggled--one that could've been mistaken for a girl, in your response, and more specifically, your nickname for him.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 2

You listen to the story about those woods. Turns out, real life is way, way nastier than any of those stories. Don't lose your head.

TW for the chapter: Blood, gore, dead bodies, slut shaming(usage of outdated horror tropes), knife play, blood play, mentions of STDs

— Do you know what animal is this? 

The body of a small creature – rodent, probably, you don’t think there could be any other animals around – was lying on the road near the place you decided to stay for the night. The “Coolest fucking thing in the world that is also just a few hours from here” was still a few hours from here because it was fucking dark and you already left your car on the sidewalk, hoping no one would steal it because honestly, why would anyone need this pile of burning crap. 

— According to the “Basic Bestiary of Austrian Animals” it might be an extremely rare Austrian Marmont.

You fucking hated Max. Mostly because his form of being different was “being an intelligent asshole” and also because he would never forget to rub the fact you were behind him in the grades into your face. 

— Waaaaaaait, a mamont? But it’s small! You have to give Karen – blonde, tan, tall, straight C everywhere except for her chest (then it would be D everywhere) – credit. As adorably silly as she was, she was still the only person you could have a meaningful conversation with. Except for the times when she was fucking your boyfriends. Or when she forgot that you don’t have a boyfriend so he doesn’t need to fuck random people just to spite you.

— Perhaps, if we are extremely lucky, a European edible dormouse, also known as…

— Fuuuuuck, people eat this thing? Yuck! Austria is like, literally the worst country EVER!

You feel like every second of this conversation, even though you are just listening to it, is going to take 10 years from your life span. You never knew why the two got together – maybe because Max loved fucking someone dumber than he is, and Gretchen loved placing the responsibility for her actions on her beloved sociopathic boyfriend. 

You wanted to say that this was literally a fucking squirrel, but you know better. Not like anyone is going to listen anyway. 

You get to the supposed location a few hours – already deep in the night, everything that you hate about forests – unkept environment, horrible living conditions, mosquitos, and occasionally wild animals are making you squirm each time your butt switches the place and you involuntarily sit on the cold, damp ground. You lick your lips, trying to adjust in the position in front of the fire. Fire that you probably shouldn’t be making in the middle of the private territory, but Chad said the place belongs to some weird hillbillies who wouldn’t care about a bunch of college grads having fun. 

You just finished the last of your coke – mixed with cheap whiskey and rum you got back at home, you feel just buzzy and fuzzy and relaxed enough to at least try to engage with people around you. Just didn’t want to make Jenny embarrassed – she was the one to vouch for you, even though you didn’t want to go camping with them. 

— I heard there is something happening in these woods. 

Everyone around you groans and you comply, groaning too. Chad has the worst storytelling voice and even Marty – the resident stoner of the group – is visibly unhappy about having to listen to his dumb jokes. Brace yourself for at least twenty minutes of dumb story with a cheap attempt to scare you. 

— You talk like those locals. What can be here except for drunkards? 

— Very fucking funny, Marty, I hope you laugh at people’s death too. 

Everyone groans again. 

— Shut up and let me finish! So, there is something hiding in those woods…legends…

— What legends? This place was built like 20 years ago. 

— Shut the fuck up, Max! It’s the legends before the town even was built. In those very forests…

— Forests? I thought it was like, just a suburban area. 

— It’s wild Austrian woods, why I would put you to adventure in the fucking suburbs? 

— You’re a suburb baby. 

— Shut it! God, I hate you guys. Alright, so…these woods are populated with…creatures. 

— Ooooh, like the mammoth we saw! 

— Karen, seriously, what the fuck? These woods are filled with motherfucking human-eating killers, not just some animals! 

— Then why do you say “creatures”? — Because it makes for a good fucking story! God, everyone, this is why none of you are studying creative writing! 

— Only your parents have money to pay for it. 

— This is why you all are fucking losers. Alright…god, I hate you. People went missing in these woods. Mostly tourists, never the local population – this is why police don’t care about it. Bodies were found, half-eaten, rotting under that very tree! 

— Which tree? There are like 10 of them just here. 

— More like 100. 

— Under every fucking tree! — That’s a lot of bodies. 

Chad groans, visibly aggressive. You just tilt your head to the side, only talking to him once before taking the last sip of your Coke and standing from your place. You wanted to take a chance to see those woods before you’d be going even deeper the next night – Chad was planning quite an adventure in the wilderness, to your dismay, and you wanted to have a chance to see the cool part of nature before you would grow tired of it. 

To your surprise, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Knowing the girl, she is far too innocent and dumb to be here – probably ran away to not listen to scary stories or got lost while trying to find a good place to pee. You sigh, feeling that it is your responsibility to pick her up – she is Marty’s girlfriend, but he is too stoned out to notice her disappearance yet. 

You stumble on your foot – alcohol makes you dizzy, makes you relaxed and smiley. You don’t even care that no one came to ask what the fuck you are doing – as far as you aware, they all can go and fuck themselves while you have a lot more fun things to do. Like searching for a drunk girl in the forest in the middle of the night…yeah, you really should work on your definition of fun. 

You already a good few minutes into the forest. Nothing but trees, not even a squirrel or a wolf pocking around to feast on yummy bodies. Not like you wanted to see a wolf, of course, but meeting with the wild life could be fun. You’d like to see a bear, for example. 

(And you will – just a bit later) 

— Karen? Karen, are you alright? You decide to scream for her once you are far enough from your friends that they won’t question why you are so concerned for her. Poor girl was obviously scared and you didn’t want to embarrass her even further, so you stroll through the woods, an empty bottle of coke in your hand – not sure why you didn’t threw it away. Littering isn’t nice, after all. 

— Karen? You’re scaring everyone, come out! 

You scream some more – she is probably lost, deep enough that she can’t even hear you. You try not to panic, try to be the reasonable friend – it’s usually Jenny’s task but here you are, trying to be the cool one of your friend group. You yell for Karen some more, listening closely to every little sound that could be easily taken as her whimper or cry for help. 

Nothing. 

Just how far can a scared drunk girl go? Probably not further away than you – you’re already starting to get tired and you knew that Sidhey got far drunker than you are. Which means she could lay here, somewhere, passed from the exhaustion, freezing, with forest animals feasting on her…no, no, you can’t think like that. She is fine, she has to be, or you are going to get into so much trouble with the police and her parents. You never told any of your families about the trip, so you wouldn’t want to get in trouble what ould require their assistance. 

You take a step into deeper part of the forest – and you think you saw a glimpse of…something. Metal, probably, might be her phone or that atrociour hair dye she is using to stop everyone from calling her a mouse. You also think you could hear a sound of someone breathing – heavily, gruffly, definitely a male, but you don’t really know how. You squint, trying to see through the trees. 

You see Karen. 

— Karen? God, you scared everyone…well, me. Where the fuck have you been? 

You smile and wave at her, your drunken state isn’t allowing you to see that, for some weird reason, she isn’t waving back. Or moving, so to speak. She stared at you with that terrified expression of hers and you tilt your head to the side, not udneratanding why is she like that. Something happened between her and others? 

You take another step back and Karen falls. 

Well…her head falls, anyway. 

There are a lot of feelings right now. Panic, panic, panic, a little bit of panic and, oh, who could have guessed, another riel of panic which makes you freak the fuck out and sprint – towards her. Maybe she will be alive if you could put her head back on her neck really-really fast? 

— Is it too late to convince you this is all a dream? 

The voice. 

You don’t recognize it – it’s distorted and quiet under the mask and you don’t know anyone int his fucking place anyways. The voice is weirdly happy, weirdly laughing and you want to vomit from how easy-going it sounds. Like the corpse of your beheaded friend is nothing, like it’s a fun pun, like…

You laungh forward, trying to, maybe, get revenge on your not-really-a-friend. Guy lets go of Karen’s body, allowing it to fall down, her head rolling to the nearest creek and tumbling into the water like a sports ball. You can’t even sob – the situation feels too unreal, too shocking, you are still very much drunk and when the guy simply wraps his hands around your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch, you fall limp in his hold. 

You sob. 

His hand goes to grasp your face in a tight embrace, making you gag from the smell of blood splattered all across his hand. You hear chuckle. 

— Didn’t want you to see that first. Wanted to play hero, yes? 

You sob, you tremble, you can barely master a few words out of your mouth. You want to scream, but it’s like all the air just decided to disappear from your lungs. So, you cry instead. How brave of you, Karen would be so proud of her friend not even trying to avenge her death. 

— F…fuck…you. 

You master with all you strength. Guy is laughing again – his other hand goes to squeeze your waist even more, pushing you against a tree. He wears a full mask with some red drawings on it – a satanic cult, really? You thought about serial killer, maybe, but definetly not about crazy cult maniacs running around. The more you know. 

— Oh, kitten, I’d love to fuck myself. But you’re here for this, no? 

He called you kitten – you squirm in his grasp, not wanting to give him the easy way to kill you. Something pokes you to the side – it’s a knife. Large, sharp, military-issued, you saw it in movie and action TV shows – and now the bloody razor almost grazing over your skin, through the thing fabric of your open jacter and a simple T-shirt. 

— Wh…who are you? 

Stpuid question, really. 

— Why does everyone wants to ask who we are all the time? Would you die happier knowing my name? Would it help you escape knowing how many beauty marks I have?

It would certainly help the police if you were to survive the encounter. Even though you are certainly going to die right next to Karen over there. 

He pushes a knife towards your side, the blade cutting through fabric easily, You brace yourself for being gutted alive. 

— I don’t like stupid questions. Ask something wrong and I will see if you are as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside. 

In a normal situation, you would punch him for such a corny joke. But you’re too drunk for this, but you’re too exhausted for this, but you just want to curl away in some nice place and fucking die, but not because he was the one to kill you. You certainly do not want to give him the satisfaction of being the one for you. 

So, you feel your cheeks heating up with the faintest of blushes. 

— What are you going to do with me?

He pushes the knife deeper, sharp edge cutting the thin line into your side. You sob immediately, tears filling your eyes as you almost feel blood – not a lot of it, just a tiny sharp streak – fill your shirt. You want to vomit, hate pain, and everything that is related to it. Thinking that the knife is dirty already and he would probably infect you with whatever one of the 13 STDs Karen has if he were to proceed. He stops right before the blade can penetrate your skin. 

— I’m a serial killer. What do you think I will do with you? 

You shake your head, trying to search for the question that won’t make him plunge a knife into your body. 

— W…what is your favorite color? 

Good job. Amazing job. Let’s hope you don’t like your liver all that much because he is definitely going to cut it out and eat it. 

— Red. I like you. 

Suddenly, you are being pushed to your knees. Suddenly, he is standing right in front of you – he is tall, of course, bulky and big, and he seems even bigger from this angle. Your face is pressed against his crotch and you can feel the dread slowly filling up your weins. Is he going to…

He presses a knife against your lips – you part it obediently, nervously, you feel your face twitching with disgust as your mouth immediately fills with the metallic taste of Karen’s blood. You really need to vomit right fucking now, but he is petting your head with his other hand like someone would do to a dog or a cat, and you sob. Too scared to do anything and here you thought you would finally stop letting people walk all over you. You thought it would start a journey of self-actualization and finding your own priorities, but…

He presses the knife a bit deeper. 

— Someone here has manners. Your friend here was trying to fuck me until she saw a knife. 

Sounds like Karen. You still remember her fucked-out face when she happily stumbled out of your room, with your boyfriend that you thought was never into cheerleaders. She had her urges and it was normal until she started to get off with those urges on everyone who liked you, or who you liked – and with such an innocent smile that no one was ever mad at her. 

He presses the knife against your upper jaw, laying it flat on your tongue – you sob, trying not to shake your head too much as he wipes away your tears and pushes your throat even deeper on the blade. You don’t know how it still hasn’t penetrated you yet. 

— Squealed like a fucking pig, not even fun anymore. I assume she was the whore of your group? 

You shook your shoulders, not wanting to give him any answers. He laughs, pressing the blade down and slightly turning it to the side. You feel the string of saliva running from your open mouth – he wipes it with his finger, leaving blood stains on your face. 

— Clean the knife for me, okay? I might leave you live if you would be good for us. You launch onto the opportunity to save your life so quickly, that you don’t even register the word “us” slipping from his tongue. 

You suck the knife obediently, carefully holding your tongue from the sharp edge so you won’t cut yourself, trying so desperately not to hurt yourself on the blade, that it’s almost adorable, He looks at you, the way you even fucking hollow your cheeks to clean it more efficiently, like you were sucking a cock and, with every passing second, he doesn’t really feel like killing you anymore. 

He feels like keeping you bound to him – maybe cutting your ankles so you would never run away from them, maybe tying you up to the body of your friend and holstering you both to the house, making you watch him gut Karen so you’d know not to run away from them. 

He pets your head like you were a cat – and, god, he always adored cats. 

You hear the noises from the side – your gaze darts to the nearest bushes as the guy waves his hand to someone gigantic sitting down at your side. Two pair of hands are now petting your head like you were a fucking animal – and you’re still sucking on his knife, feeling the pressure on your lips. You want to die, but there is no choice but to keep living. 

— Scheisse, what do you have here? 

A hand goes to cup your face and turns you to the side, to meet the giant, bulky figure fully wrapped in camo gear. His face is concealed with some sort of hood, which makes you shake even more. They both look like soldiers – or soldier-cultist-butchers from a horror movie. But, then again, you are in the fucking horror movie, since the big guy has Karen’s head in his hand, holding her by the hair. You sob even more. 

— Stumbled across me as I was gutting the slut. 

— Is she a smart one then? 

The guy with the knife laughs, yanking the blade from your mouth. You want to close it immediately, but the second guy pushes his finger between your lips, keeping them apart – and you are too scared to even try to bite him. Instead, you sit here, obediently, feeling the alcohol in your system working its magic. Again. Making you drowsy and relaxed, panic drained so much energy from your body, that you genuinely feel horrible. 

— No, wouldn’t say so. Obedient, more like. 

— Not a cool one either. Are you a virgin, Schatz? 

You want to lie, just so you won’t feel so fucking embarrassed because of it – but something in the brutality of what they did to Karen made you reconsider. You just shake your shoulders, not wanting to give a definitive answer. 

— Cute. Been some time since we saw a cute one like this. 

Your sobbing intensifies and the big guy suddenly yanks you on your feet. You immediately feel ill, pressing your head against the tree and emptying your insides – mostly because of the panic and partly because of the amount of alcohol you drank. Their touches are surprisingly soft on your skin, gently removing any stray hairs from your face and holding a firm hand on your back, rubbing the blood and grim into your jacket. 

You stand like this for a few minutes, choking on your own tears, vomit, and blood. They coo at you, gentle hands on your body guiding you towards them just so the second guy – a smaller one, relatively of course – could get a hand in your hair and yank it back. Hard. 

— Calm the fuck down. 

— You’re scaring her, Tigeren. 

— Aren’t we here for this? 

— Thought you liked this one. 

— I do. But…

— But? 

— Not fun to take her just now. She can help stir her friends a little. Make them run a little. 

They fucking killed Karen and they want to…let you go? They made you clean their knives, stand on your knees in front of them, and then gently helped you empty your insides – just to let you go when you could run into the nearest policeman and destroy their whole little game? Are they dumb or overly confident? 

— She could run. I would rather keep her with us. 

— They won’t get out of these forests without phones. And their car is already…shit. Spoilers. 

— Alright. But I would be the first to take her next time. 

— She won’t be any good after you, Ko. 

— Our Kleine Hase has more than one hole, ja? 

This is it. 

You take the opportunity – they are distracted by their little conversation, so you duck under the hand of the bigger man and run in the close direction to where the group is sitting. You are covered in blood, and dirt, you shake like crazy and you can barely even run straight without getting right into the various trees, but you don’t care. You aren’t strong enough to sit here and listen to their conversation – not when the self-preservation makes you forget about Karen. Not when that feeling in your chest can only be described as “She got what she asked for” – because she was a bitch, but not nearly enough to deserve being beheaded by two psychos. 

They laugh as they watch you run. Horangi smiles, nudging Konig to the side – you’re not a fighter, but still interesting enough. Adorable and obedient, just vile enough to suck on the same knife that killed your friend – interesting mix, to say the least. Hongjin always wanted a cat, but never got the time on the various deployments – and you behave like a perfect mix of a kitten and bunny. 

Konig tilts his head to the side, watching you, this pathetic little thing, run like the devil was after you. He was, of course. and he came in double, but it was still funny, how a city girl like you seriously thought you would be able to get away if they weren’t allowing you to. You’re cute, for a tourist, and he wants to hunt you some more – perfect foreplay before destroying you with either his cock or his knife. 

One down – and both of them couldn’t wait to finally get to you. 

[97linelover]

Mend my broken heart - Choi seungcheol

18+ MDI!!

summary: Getting a second chance to love someone sounds good right?

But what if a simple Camping trip could break this apart?

content: Idol scoups x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff,smut, drama, heartbreak, meantions of death, reader´s ex has died !TW!

wc: 3.2 k

a/n: please be careful if mentions of death triggers you. This story holds a special place in my heart .

Being in love can be something unbelievably beautiful. If you find your soulmate, keep them close, keep them safe, and cherish every moment with them.

You never thought you’d get a second chance at love, but then Seungcheol entered your life, and love had another chance.

You first met when you worked an early shift at the café. He would come in after his morning run, and it wasn’t long before his daily visits turned into brief conversations.

It didn’t take long for him to ask you out, but you declined initially, citing professionalism. Yet, he persisted, and his charm and your growing fondness for him eventually won out.

When you finally agreed to go on a date, the joy on his face was unmistakable. He took you to a movie and then to the best Italian restaurant in town. Despite the paparazzi’s attempts to catch you, you managed to evade them.

From then on, you saw each other regularly. He became a close friend, and you started to sense that something deeper was developing.

“Y/N, Cheollie is already waiting outside for you,” Maria said, tying her apron.

“Tell him I need to make a quick call and then I’m ready,” you replied.

You hurriedly finished your call, put on your hoodie, and tied your hair into a loose bun. As you stepped outside, you saw Cheol leaning against his black car, engrossed in his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you greeted with a grin.

He looked up, his face lighting up with a big smile. “Hey, love,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How was your shift?” he asked, taking your hand and pulling you closer.

“Same old stuff,” you sighed. “I can’t wait for this to be over so I can start my own bakery,” you said dreamily, your hands resting on his chest as you looked up at him.

“You know I’d love to help you with that,” he said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“No, Cheollie, it’s my fight,” you kissed his cheek. “But thank you.”

“Are you hungry? There’s a new fried chicken place down the street from my place,” he suggested, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“Oh, I heard of it, ChiKi or something, right?” you asked.

“Exactly,” he confirmed.

“Sure, but I’m pretty exhausted. Let’s go so I can sleep afterward,” you giggled as you got into his car. The drive was peaceful, with his hand resting on your thigh. “Close your eyes a little until we get there,” he said.

You nodded and closed your eyes, dozing off for a few minutes.

At the restaurant, you ordered various plates of seasoned chicken and some drinks.

“How was practice? Did it go well with your injury?” you asked, taking a bite of your chicken.

“It was exhausting,” he said. “We’re preparing for the Maestro comeback, and it’s harder than I thought. I fell twice because my leg gave up.” You could sense his struggle and took his hand.

“But it’s so much better than before, right? Look on the bright side; the doctor wasn’t sure if you’d ever dance like that again,” you pointed out. “You’re doing great. I saw a post from fans about the Monster performance. You were incredible,” you said, and he grinned.

“You think so?” he raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You know exactly how hot I think you are, Cheol. That’s no secret,” you leaned back in your chair.

“Want to come over to mine?” he asked, his voice lowering and his eyes darkening. You rubbed your legs together, feeling excited.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you grinned, grabbing your bag and following him to his car.

Spending nights like these with him was rare. He usually kept a low profile, but with you, he was ready to face the risks.

You didn’t make it to the bedroom. Instead, he took you against the wall, their passion overwhelming, and eventually laid you down on the couch, hovering over you. “So beautiful,” he murmured, tracing your collarbones.

“Cheol,” you whimpered as his fingertips played with your sensitive spots.

“So needy,” he smirked. “Cheol, please,” you begged.

Finally, he pushed inside, taking his time, gradually building up the intensity. Your eyes rolled back, a loud moan escaping you as he made you feel pleasure beyond words.

Seungcheol’s moans and the sight of him losing control made you feel warm and desired. Afterward, he carried you into his massive walk-in shower, where you gave him pleasure with your mouth, and he praised you as he reached his climax.

You both sank into his large bed, exhausted and content. “Seok texted me; he’s planning a trip to Busan next weekend. He wants you to join us,” Cheol said, playing with your hair.

“Am I not intruding?” you asked, tracing patterns on his tummy.

“Never. Seungkwan always asks about you, and Joshua is obsessed with you,” he reassured.

“We can do that,” you kissed him softly, feeling the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

As you traveled to Busan with Seokmin, Chan, and Cheol, the car ride was filled with laughter and music.

“The others are already there. Jun’s setting up the grill, and Mingyu’s taking care of our tent,” Cheol said, guiding your hand to his mouth for a soft kiss.

“Only for you would I sleep in a tent,” you sighed. “My back will thank me later.”

“I can give you a massage later,” he smirked.

“That’s disgusting,” Seokmin laughed. “Please be quiet then,” he added.

“Oh, only because you haven’t had any action for months. Should I remind you about someone who got busy with Ally in the practice room?” Cheol joked.

You laughed and changed the song.

As night fell, you all gathered on the sand. Seungkwan poured more wine into your cup. “We’re happy you’re here with us,” he said, and you smiled, feeling content.

Cheol’s fingers stroked your hair lovingly. “I’m going to grab some thicker clothes,” you mumbled. As you changed in the tent, Cheol followed.

“Are you cold?” you asked, picking out some pants for him.

“No, I’m actually just really horny,” he whispered, his bulge evident.

“But the others are waiting,” you teased.

He didn’t care. On a floating mattress, you straddled him, moving your hips skillfully.

“Yes,” Cheol breathed, his voice heavy with desire. “Just like that.”

You intensified your movements, feeling him groan beneath you. His state, with messy hair and dark eyes, made you feel even closer to climax.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he rasped. “I’m almost there.”

“Me too, Cheol,” you whimpered.

As you both reached the peak of pleasure, you stayed close, marveling at the connection you shared. “Should we just go to bed?” he asked, gently cleaning you up.

“Mmm, sleepy,” you mumbled, and he chuckled, wrapping you in a blanket.

You lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms. “Cheollie, I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered. There was no response; he was already asleep. Perhaps it was better this way.

The atmosphere on the beach was relaxed, with the other guys chatting and laughing. Cheol had his arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you listened.

“Jungkook-ah bought a new motorcycle; he passed his test yesterday,” someone mentioned.

You chewed on a piece of bread and noticed Cheol nodding in agreement. “Jungkook made it? That’s awesome,” Chan said, and you saw Cheol nodding again.

“I actually signed up for driving lessons three days ago,” Cheol added, and you froze.

“NO,” you said, standing up abruptly.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Cheol asked, looking confused.

“You are not going to drive that motorcycle, Cheol,” you insisted, feeling a surge of anger and fear.

Cheol furrowed his brows. “Of course I will. I’ve always wanted to.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m not joking, Cheol. You are not getting on that motorcycle.” Your voice shook with emotion.

He laughed, thinking you were playing. “Who are you, my mom?”

“Do you think this is funny?” you demanded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m not your mom, but she’d probably say the same thing. I care about you, and it hurts to see you not take me seriously.”

Cheol’s expression hardened. “Y/N, we’re not doing this childish thing. If I want my license, I’m getting it. You’re not my mother.” Wonwoo stepped in. “Hey man, I think you should talk this out alone.”

You wiped your tears away angrily. “I’m done with this conversation. Do whatever you want, but I can’t watch you risk your life every day.” You grabbed your shoes from the sand.

“I’m done with you,” you shouted, and Cheol flinched at your sudden outburst.

You stormed toward the tent, packing your belongings into your sports bag.

“What’s happening?” Cheol demanded, following you. “What do you mean you’re done with me?”

“I mean exactly that,” you said, not caring about the fabric he pulled from your hands. “I’m done with you. You’re not respecting my feelings. I’m finished.”

You stormed out of the tent. “I can’t understand what’s happening,” Cheol said, running in front of you.

“You don’t need to. This is it. I tried, but it’s not working,” you sobbed.

“Where are you going? Let’s talk,” he pleaded, grabbing your hand.

“No, Cheol. You don’t understand. This motorcycle issue is something I can’t handle. I felt like you weren’t taking me seriously. If we start like this, what’s next? You’re going to do it anyway?”

“So you’re breaking up with me over something so trivial?” he scoffed. You stopped abruptly.

“YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?” you yelled. “I LOST THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IN A MOTORCYCLE ACCIDENT!” Everyone turned to look.

Cheol’s eyes widened in shock. “He was killed instantly because he was speeding, and the weather was awful. So no, Seungcheol, I’m not breaking up with you over something trivial. I’m breaking up with you because I can’t handle the memory of his death and the thought of losing someone who could mend my broken heart.” You spoke with a fierce strength.

“I didn’t know,” Cheol whispered.

“Because no one knows. No one deserves to know how messed up my life is,” you said, walking away.

You headed to the train station, relieved to catch the last train home. The journey felt like a fever dream.

It had been four years, and the pain still felt fresh.

You turned off your phone and went straight to bed.

In the middle of the night, you were jolted awake by knocks on your door. You knew exactly who it was.

“Cheol, go away,” you said through the door.

“No, baby. I can’t just let you walk away like this,” he pleaded.

“But I can’t do this,” you sobbed.

“You can. The last few months were so good. We were good. Let’s talk, please,” he said, his voice cracking.

You opened the door, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I won’t let you go, not over this. I was an idiot, but we can work through it,” he said.

You sobbed against his chest. “I don’t know, Cheol. I had built a barrier around my heart, and you broke it down. I became vulnerable with you,” you said, feeling raw.

“I will never go near a motorcycle if it means losing you,” he whispered, holding you close. “I didn’t know. I thought you were just overreacting. I would never judge you. I want you to trust me.”

You looked up at him with tearful eyes. “I want you to know about him,” you said softly. He wiped away your tears and kissed your forehead.

“Do you feel ready to talk about it?” he asked gently.

You nodded. “I think you need to understand why I’m sometimes distant,” you said, settling on your small bed. You fiddled with your blanket, gathering your thoughts.

“His name was Sam. We met when I was 18 at a house party. He never took his eyes off me. We ended up leaving the party and spending time at the beach,” you began, your voice trembling.

“We became best friends and then lovers. He was my first everything. I thought we’d get married. We even planned to elope in Vegas. He worked two jobs; his second job was as a delivery driver for his uncle’s diner. One night, I had terrible stomach pains and asked him to come home. I had no car, and I told him to be careful and drive slowly,” you recounted, struggling to hold back tears.

“I called him later because I hadn’t heard from him. I started to worry. His mother came to my place, tears streaming down her face, to tell me that Sam had died. I thought it was a cruel joke. Everything went dark.” Cheol held you tighter.

“He was speeding, and a drunk driver lost control on the wet road. Sam was gone instantly. After that, I fell into a deep depression. I shut everyone out, feeling like my heart was only for Sam,” you said, looking at him.

“That was until I met you. I didn’t want to get too close, but somehow, you captured my heart,” you smiled through your tears. “I visited Sam’s grave and told him about you. I told him he’d have to share me now, and I felt okay with that.”

Seungcheol was at a loss for words, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“You couldn’t. I want you in my life, Cheol. A piece of my heart will always belong to Sam. I’m overprotective because I love you,” you said.

“You love me?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

You nodded. “I love you. That’s why I ran away. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another man I love,” you said, stroking his hair. “You mean so much to me.”

Cheol’s tears fell freely as he held you close, understanding the depth of your feelings and vowing to be more considerate of your fears.

Cheol held you close, his tears mingling with yours as he processed everything you had shared. You could feel the weight of his remorse and the sincerity of his promises.

"I’m so sorry for not understanding sooner," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I should have listened to you, and I should have been more sensitive. I never wanted to add to your pain."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm begin to replace the tumult inside you. "It’s not about you being at fault. It’s about me learning to trust and open up again. And you being willing to listen means everything to me."

He gently wiped your tears away and kissed you softly, his lips reassuring against yours. "Let’s work through this together," he said. "I want to be here for you in every way, and I want us to be strong."

You nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. "I want that too. It’s just going to take time, and patience, and understanding."

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and comforting each other, rebuilding the trust that had been shaken. As dawn approached, you both felt a renewed sense of connection and commitment.

In the weeks that followed, Cheol made a conscious effort to respect your boundaries and to show you just how much you meant to him. He never brought up the motorcycle again, instead focusing on being a supportive partner and taking the time to truly understand your fears.

Gradually, the healing began. You found it easier to open up about your past, and Cheol proved time and again that he was willing to stand by you, no matter what. Your relationship deepened, built on a foundation of trust and mutual respect.

And while the pain of losing Sam never completely went away, you learned to share your heart without fear. You and Cheol continued to grow together, embracing each moment and looking forward to a future that, while uncertain, felt filled with promise and love.

As you both looked back on that tumultuous night, you realized that it had been a turning point—a moment that tested your relationship but ultimately strengthened it. In Cheol, you found not only a partner but a confidant who helped you heal and find joy again.

You knew the road ahead wouldn’t always be smooth, but with Cheol by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came next, together.

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

BG3 Companions (& Halsin) Realizing That Their GN! Tav Might Have PMDD

Characters: GN! Reader! Tav; Astarion; Gale; Wyll; Shadowheart; Karlach; Lae’zel; Halsin

Pairing(s): None, but it’s written as All Companions x Tav so if you have a romanced companion you prefer, you can imagine they have most of Tav’s favor. 

A/N: This is a highly indulgent imagine that absolutely NO ONE asked for (besides me lol) but I felt compelled to write it because I’ve been really struggling lately with some extreme PMS symptoms for the last few months or so. I don’t have a PMDD diagnosis yet or anything, but in looking up my symptoms I read about it and wanted to write this comfort piece for it. I kept Tav as gender-neutral as possible in this, but they do have a very active and very angry uterus in this.

TW: Discussion of Menstruation (Bleeding, Cramps/ Abdominal Pain), PMS, and PMDD Symptoms (Including Depression & Thoughts of Suicide) [Note: No one actually says ‘PMDD’, or Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder but that is the syndrome implied]; Brief Mentions of Sex (also small text)

Word Count: 3.7k

“Have any of you seen Tav lately?” Astarion asked, coming to sit next to a handful of his fellow companions seated around their camp’s fire. 

“Why? Has something else gone wrong?” Shadowheart teased back from where she lay against a log, a goblet of half-drunk wine in her hand. “Or perhaps, you’re looking for a bite to eat?” 

“Ha-ha,” Astarion mock laughed. “‘Bite,’ because I’m a vampire, how hilarious Shadowheart.” 

“I don’t know Astarion,” Gale countered from where he was perched on the other side of the former Sharran devotee, “I’d wager you secretly found it rather punny.” 

“Ugh,” Astarion wrinkled his nose at Gale’s words, failing to hide the amused smile that graced his lips. “Honestly Gale, as if the orb isn’t enough.”

Astarion, having lost interest in sitting next to his companions, settled for standing, crossing his arms, and jutting out one hip in his signature semi-annoyed pose.

“Come now Astarion, you can’t say Gale’s love for language comes as a surprise,” Wyll joined the conversation, sheathing his blade after having used Lae’zel’s whetstone to sharpen it. “Why I’d wager even Lae’zel can attest that in the farthest reaches of the Githyanki galaxy, the repetition of a wizard’s sharpened tongue precedes them.” 

Lae’zel huffed affirmatively, taking the opportunity to sharpen her sword. “Tchk. The Blade is right. It is no secret that wizards cannot help but run their mouths.” 

Karlach, having been seated quite literally in the middle of the conversation, from where she lay next to the campfire flames, burst out laughing, sitting up with a start. 

Shadowheart and Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle as well. 

Lae’zel’s eyes glowered as she looked at her other companions. “I do not see the cause for such antics” 

“Yes! Thank you Lae’zel!” Gale spoke up, wagging a finger in protest at the display of his friends. “A wizard’s intellectual prowess is no laughing matter.” 

“That which you discuss has yet to be seen.” Lae’zel rebuffed Gale yet again. 

“Pfft!” Shadowheart nearly choked on her drink as Karlach resumed her boisterous laughter, Wyll joining in this time as well. 

“Enjoying a night of merriment, are we?” Halsin’s deep voice cut through the laughs, his large form coming into view as the Druid emerged from the tree line. Shirtless, and still dripping, his presence brought a warm air to the camp, despite the night’s chilled air. 

“We certainly are now,” Astarion purred, admiring the druid’s half-naked form. 

“Mhhm,” Shadowheart took another sip of her wine. “For once, Astarion,  I’d have to agree.” 

Completely comfortable in his nudity, and unintimidated by the other’s ogling, Halsin strutted confidently over to where his fellow companions had gathered around the fire. “I had just finished bathing when Tav came to the lakeside. Said they were going to take a bath to unwind before bed.” 

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask you to join them,” Astarion mused, eyes still raking up and down Halsin’s sculpted form. 

Halsin gave a half smirk at the compliment, but his mood remained subdued. “They seemed upset. I offered to stay with them, even just to chat, but they insisted they wished to be left alone.“ 

Frowning, Gale scanned the faces of his companions, looking for a negative reaction, finding a similar dower one had made its way across Wyll’s and Karlach’s features. 

Looking to Karlach for solidarity, Wyll spoke up first: “Has anyone noticed Tav to be much more despondent as of late?” 

Karlach nodded. “Yesterday as well. Hells, it’s so odd to see them so down in the dumps. They’re usually leading the charge in making sure the rest of us are happy.”

“Has something changed? Perhaps Raphael contacted them yet again?” Gale supposed. 

Shadowheart shook her head. “Not that I know of. Besides, even if he did, this feels too familiar to just be a coincidence.” 

Lae’zel resheathed her newly sharpened blade before stalking over to the Selunite priestess. “Tchk. If you have something to share ghustil, say it outright.” 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes at the quarrelsome nature of Lae’zel’s words but continued speaking nonetheless. “If I recall correctly, a similar thing happened a while back, a few weeks perhaps.” 

“Yes,” Wyll joined. “I remember Tav crying after one of our battles.” 

“Come now,” Gale countered. “That’s hardly a mystery. It’s completely understandable why they might break down every now and then. It’s been a hard few months, even for a leader as strong as Tav.” 

“Perhaps,” Wyll relented. “Although, I can’t recall Tav giving a specific reason for their meltdown.” 

“‘Reason’?” Asatrion scoffed. “How about the fact that we’re all infected with Mindflayer parasites which could hatch at any moment? On top of which we are expected to destroy this Absolute death cult, lest all of Baldur’s Gate be turned into a tentacle wasteland!” 

“It is enough to make one’s blood run cold.” Gale agreed. 

“I do think Shadowheart may have a point.” Halsin put his two cents in. “I do recall around two months ago, Tav coming to me for healing, relief for abdominal cramps.”

“Oh, well that settles it, doesn’t it? It’s merely that ‘time of the month’, rather unfortunate and annoying, but hardly devastating for our capable leader.” Astarion sounded unconvinced, as he looked down to admire his recently shaped fingernails. 

Halsin shook his head. “I sensed there was more they wished to request aid for. They were holding something back. What exactly and why, I am unsure.” 

“Maybe they’ve just got a tough go of it. I know my whole body was thrown entirely out of whack waking up in Avernus. It took years for me to feel like myself again.” Karlach gestured at her many scars as she did so. 

All the time, Lae’zel had been listening intensely, a curious look across her face. “What is this ‘time of the month’?” She repeated. “Is it another,” she paused, making sure to pronounce the following word right, “Tiefling trait?” 

Karlach shook her head. “We’re not exempt from it,” she replied honestly. “But no, it’s not just tieflings.” 

“You mean to tell me that female Githyanki don’t have periods?” Shadowheart asked, having thrown all her pretenses out along with the last of her wine. 

“As I have said before ghustil, we do not become parents through sex. When it is time, we are chosen by Vlaakith to lay the eggs of our young.” 

“And this, ‘egg-laying’, as you call it… it, isn’t um, gender specific?” Gale, ever the wizard, just had to know. 

“No. Sex is irrelevant. The only thing of importance is whether you are called by Vlaakith to bear that which houses her future children.” 

“... Right,” Gale answered, feeling rather queasy. “I think that’s all I’d like to know if you don’t mind.”  

“Can we please get back to the point?” Astarion interrupted, rather impatient. “Tav is spiraling or having a mental breakdown or something, and apparently, only the Cleric and Druid noticed, how cliche.” 

 “Alright, Astarion. What do you suggest?” Wyll asked. 

“Well, obviously we need to find out what’s wrong with them so we can fix it.” 

“If it is this ‘time-of-month’, then why not stop it before it comes? You know when it nears, why not strike it down before it starts?” Lae’zel suggested, still not fully understanding what a ‘period’ was for a human. 

“That may not solve all the difficulties Tav is experiencing.” Halsin finally pulled his shirt back over his head, much to the others' collective disappointment. “There is more, although I am uncertain if I should share it, as Tav shared it with me in confidence.” 

“If it could help us help Tav, perhaps it is best to share this once?” Gale suggested. “Normally, I’m not one for shifting loyalties, but I too, have some things I think it’s better I share with the group.” 

“Now that you mention it, I do recall Tav saying something off-color last night,” Astatrion added. 

“What did they say?” Karlach asked.

“They mentioned they had been feeling rather down. Really down. So down, that they, well…” Astarion gave an exasperated huff, clearly uneasy with the topic. “...Tav said that sometimes, they feel like giving up.” 

“What did you tell them?” Wyll asked, encouraging Astarion to go on. 

“I said of course they feel like that! I mean who wouldn't? Between the Mindflayer parasites, the constant goblin attacks, the thieves, and the looming threat of this Absolute Cult, who wouldn't want to lie down for a few hundred years or so?” 

“I must admit, Tav’s confession to me a few months back was similar in nature,” Gale attested. “They expressed how defeated they felt as if nothing they did mattered. All the battles, all the small victories, it didn’t change anything. The Absolute was still going strong, the threat of the world’s end still looming… They asked me if any of it was worth it.” 

Halsin nodded. “I fear I was told more of the same. Tav divulged that they sometimes wondered if I, if we, would fare better on our journey without them.”

A silence fell over the companions, a cerebral, unsettling kind of silence, the kind one could feel resonating, laden within one's bones. 

“Shit,” Karlch said, the first to speak. “I mean, I knew they were upset sometimes, but I just figured we all were.” 

“Halsin,” Shadowheart started, gently. “When Tav told you they thought we’d be better off without them, what did you say?” 

“I embraced them and told them that in no uncertain terms, we needed them to lead us. I reminded Tav how amazing they are, and how, even though they themselves cannot see it, they are truly a marvel to behold. I expressed gratitude for them saving The Grove, for making peace between the tieflings and the druids.”

Wyll nodded along to Halsin’s words, recalling all that he and Tav had managed to accomplish together in such a short time, despite all the odds stacked against them. 

Halsin cleared his throat, swallowing down an ardent wave of emotion that threatened to escalate before he continued: “Lastly, I told them how I felt about them, how we all felt about them, and that should they ever require reminding, they need only ask.” 

From where he stood, Astarion sulked, a guilty expression making its way across his face. “I, I didn’t know. Godsdammit! I should have seen…”

“You cannot blame yourself Astarion.” Halsin did his best to assure his pale elf friend. “Even with Tav’s confession, I fear I did not heed their words the way I should have. Perhaps if I connected the dots more quickly, if I recorded the dates of their depressive episodes, we could have come to this conclusion weeks ago.” 

“What conclusion is that exactly?” Lae’zel enquired. “You say it is not this ‘time-of-month’, and yet, you make no other claims. What cause do you reference?” 

“It’s rare, but sometimes it happens that a human’s reproductive organs seemingly conspire against them,” Gale answered. “Well, more than is to be expected, I should clarify.” 

“Ah. So it is inferior istik reproductive organs to blame for our dear leader’s shakiness. Then perhaps they need be cut out.” 

“Lae’zel!” Gale gasped. 

Lae’zel crossed her arms as if to say ‘what’? 

“It needn’t come to that,” Halsin cut in, diffusing the situation. “That is not to say it’s not a possibility, but only in the most dire and extreme cases.” 

“Yes,” Shadowheart agreed. “And despite my being a cleric and Halsin being a druid, neither one of us is qualified for such procedures.” 

Lae’zel took a moment to process their words. “Indeed, I see. In that case, it is wise that that scalpel-wielding bard is not currently accompanying us. Vlaakith knows his surgical skills are nothing more than mere talk, given his removal of Tav’s eye.” 

“... Is that a joke?” Astarion asked, dumbfounded at Lae’zel’s choice of deadpan delivery amid such a dire discussion.   

“Do not look so surprised shka'keth, I am considered most humorous amongst my people.” 

“You know what?” Wyll butt in, “That, I do believe.” 

 Astarion scoffed. “Well, perhaps, Lae’zel could use her humor to cheer Tav up. Unless any of you have any other ideas?” 

“I think perhaps it would be better for us to sit Tav down for a heart-to-heart. Remind them how much they mean to us.” The Blade of Frontiers did not beat around the bush. 

“I agree,” Halsin seconded. “Perhaps the message coming from us all would be better received than it was coming from me alone.” 

“It’s worth a try,” Karlach agreed. “Gods know we care about them. And there’s no way we would have gotten this far without them.” 

“The tiefling is right. Tav may be istik, but they are still our leader.” Lae’zel spoke up, roused by her companions' sudden ire. “We have a duty to them to finish this, to cleanse these parasites from our bodies and destroy The Absolute.”

Shadowheart sighed, before righting herself and walking over to Lae’zel’s side. “If Lae’zel’s in, then I might as well join. Wyll, what about you? Up for an intervention?” 

Wyll looked at Karlach, catching her eye. Following a triumphant smirk from Karlach, the duo nodded their respective affirmations before joining Halsin, Astarion, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart where they stood. 

And that just left…

“Gale? Care to join us? Or will you be too busy pinning over your ex-goddess girlfriend?” Astarion ribbed. 

Gale shook his head, Astarion’s antics not being a new experience for him at all. 

“I’m not pining, and, even if I were, Tav is much more important at the moment. Why, in fact,” Gale’s voice got quieter, more serious, “Some nights I fear I would give up The Weave, hells, even eternity if it meant Tav would be happy.” 

No one else said anything in response, they didn't need to. It was clear to all of them, that they all loved Tav deeply, even on the days, or weeks Tav couldn't find any love for themselves. 

“Do you think Tav would be done bathing by now? Not that I’d mind getting a little peak, though I’m not sure how they’d feel about that.” Astarion mused. 

“Astarion,” Wyll warned.

“I’m only kidding. Mostly.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be back shortly. Let us prepare what we wish to say so that when they do arrive-” Halsin started, but was cut off by a rustling coming from just beyond the treeline. 

“Wait,” Tav’s voice cut through the air, a welcome bit of color amidst an otherwise chilly night, “Who’s arriving?” 

“Tav!” The companions turned in shock, feeling sheepish, as if they had just been caught in the act. 

“We were hoping you’d return soon,” Shadowheart admitted. 

“There are some things we’d like to discuss,” Gale added. 

Tav pinched the bridge of their nose. “Dammit Astarion, did you go around trying to bite everyone again? We’ve talked about this.” They let out an exasperated sigh. 

“What? Why-?! How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Astarion puffed his chest up, making himself appear larger. “I’ll have you know we were actually discussing-” 

“We’re worried about you soldier,” Karlach interrupted Astarion’s indignant outburst. “We see how hard this has been on you, on all of us.” 

“We want you to know,” Wyll continued the sentiment for her, “That we care about you. And whatever hardships you endure, we’ll endure them with you.” 

“Oh.” 

Their companion’s words stopped Tav dead in their tracks. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And um, that’s really sweet of you. It’s just,” Tav frowned, “How do I put this? Um… As far as The Absolute and the Mindflayers are concerned, I’m grateful for your help, I am, really. But there are just some things that are-”

“Private,” Astarion finished for Tav. He walked over to Tav, before lowering his voice, speaking only to them. “I think you know,” he whispered, his expression suddenly melancholy, “Better than anyone, why each one of us knows how you feel.” 

And with that, the damn burst, Tav simply couldn't hold it in any longer. 

Their face contorted. They bit their lip before their mouth turned upside down, their nose wrinkled, and their eyes began to water. 

“It’s just been so hard!” Tav cried, their own voice barely more than a whisper. “And just when I think things are okay, that I’m finally better, it all just comes crashing down around me again!” Tav sobbed, their arms dropping to their sides in defeat. 

Moving to comfort them, Astarion placed a tentative hand on their shoulder, gently patting Tav with a ‘there-there’. His eyes darted back to his companions, a begging, uncomfortable look evident on his face. 

Karlach moved first, coming to Tav’s side opposite Astarion. Despite her engine being temporarily fixed, she knew her skin was still hot to the touch. Still, Karlach hoped her closeness would be its own comfort. 

“We’ve got you soldier.” Karlach wrapped the end of her tiefling tail around Tav’s calf. “Just let it all out, it’s okay.” 

Tav sobbed even harder at her words, pulling a rather flustered Astarion in for a tight embrace. 

“Ah. A little help over here!” Astarion whispered harshly past Tav’s ear, their face wedged between his arms and chest, and their tears and snot beginning to dampen his shoulder. 

Shadowheart chuckled, amused that despite him being such a flirt when he wanted, Astaron was still rather unfamiliar with the more platonic, or should she say, non-sexual forms of intimacy. “Step aside.”

Moving over to the huddle sandwich that was Astarion, Tav, and Karlach, Shadowheart wedged her way in between Astarion and Tav. “Just try not to drool too much on my top. It is leather after all.” 

“Tchck, Shadowheart.” Lae’zel chided. She walked over to the huddle, standing a safe six inches away, her arms crossed and brows furrowed. “Clothes are meaningless compared to a fellow soldier.” 

“I’m surprised I find myself agreeing, but Shadowheart, Lae’zel does have a point,” Gale concluded. “Tav’s emotional state is much more important than any item of clothing, or inanimate object.” 

“Says the wizard who eats shoes,” Astarion ribbed from under his breath. 

Gale clicked his tongue at the vampire spawn’s remark, but otherwise paid his pale companion no mind. 

“Besides,” Gale continued, undeterred. “I can always do another load of laundry. Should you ever need a shoulder to cry on, know that mine will always be available, tears or otherwise.” 

Tav nodded, enthusiastically grateful, switching from Shadowheart’s shoulder to Gale’s. 

Sighing, as the cool purple velvet rubbed against their cheek, Tav began to slow their breathing, gaining better control of the sobs that had previously uncontrollably wracked their body. 

“We may not know exactly what it is you’re going through, but that doesn’t make you any less of a leader worthy of our time and affection,” Wyll spoke up as he came to join the hug pile. “And sharing your fears and sadness does not make you a burden, it makes you strong.” 

Tav wailed once more, nodding emphatically as they did so. Deep down, they knew all that their friends had shared to be true, but they were not able to convince themselves of it on their own. 

“And if this sadness of yours comes at the same time every month, it may indicate a hormonal condition. Should that be the case, there are many treatments and spells we can cast to ease your pain.” 

“Really?” Tav asked through sniffles. 

“Indeed,” Halsin nodded, having walked over to also join his gathered companions. “Although there is something simpler, something I always have readily available.” 

“Don’t you dare—” Astarion started. 

At the same time Lae’zel spoke her own words of protest: “Do it druid, and you may very well live to regret it.” 

Tav ignored their outbursts and instead asked Halsin what he had in mind. 

“This,” he said, before outstretching his arms and encompassing everyone in a great big bear hug. 

Squished between their dear companions, their friends, their allies in this fight, and the next, Tav, for the first time in days, began to feel truly loved. 

The world may have looked bleak and hopeless, and with a raging uterus, it may have looked even more so, but as long as Tav had their friends, they would never know true defeat. 

…

Squashed between an equally irate Githyanki and a rather sentimental wizard, Astarion wriggled, trying to break free, but to no avail. Turning his head left to face his frog-esque friend, Astarion whispered threats under his breath.  

“I say the next time he wildshapes into a bear, we put a pretty pink collar around his neck and march him into town as punishment.”

“Chk. I find that offer rather agreeable.” 

“I dunno. I rather like this kind of medicinal approach.” Karlach said, feeling overjoyed to simply be touched. 

“You know he can hear you, right?” Wyll, ever the pragmatist, spoke from across the expanse of Halsin’s broad chest in order to address Astarion. 

Halsin nodded in the affirmative upon hearing Wyll’s words.

Astarion groaned. “Well, clearly he has now!” 

“And here I thought vampires were stealthy.” Shadowheart teased. 

“Oh, trust me, darling, all of your times shall come. Count on it!” 

“Astarion?” Tav‘s muffled voice asked from where their face was squished into Gale’s chest. 

Tav managed to pull their head away from Gale’s purple robe just long enough to give Astarion their best puppy-dog-eyed look. “Be nice? Pleaseeee?” They drew out the end of the ‘please,’ innocently batting their eyes as they did so. 

“... Fine. But don’t get used to it,” Astarion resigned before tossing his hair. “I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Mhhm,” Tav agreed, putting their face back against Gale’s velvet-covered chest. 

They knew this moment couldn’t last forever, and it certainly wouldn’t solve all their problems— mind flayers, hormones, or otherwise. But they could at least stay put like that for just a minute longer. 

Or as a matter of fact? Make that two. 

A/N 2.0: So there it is! I hope you enjoyed. This is definitely something I needed to read like two weeks ago, and also a month ago, and then the month before that lol. 

After this, we are back to our regularly scheduled programming. I will make an upcoming ask list, just so everyone is clear as to what is up and coming.

As always Please Like, but most importantly, REBLOG!!!

(Reblogs mean more than Likes because they project my work to a larger audience.)

And If you like my work, Consider Buying Me A Coffee <3. 

[scarfacemarston]

Abigail should be allowed to say she wasn't prepared to have Jack or did not want him at the time.

TW: Pregnancy, abortion mention, child mortality mention, death during pregnancy mention. People criticize John for not caring for Jack --- as they should! However, when it comes to the idea of whether John wanted him or not, he gets a free pass in comparison to Abigail, who is always demonized. This leads to how women are viewed in society. Why is it so evil that a woman says that she's not ready to have a child or didn't want one? Because of 1950s and earlier notions that women HAVE to be in the home? Ideas that conservatives still try to force down women's throats? Abigail was 18, for God's sake. She was JUST rescued from a brothel. She finally had freedom for the first time in her life. (She was literally either in the orphanage, living on the streets, or working in the brothels.) Most 18 year olds aren't ready to have children ----even if times were different back then. Just because women did have children back then at 18 or younger, doesn't mean they were ready or that they wanted to. She had just fallen in love, she finally had people that cared for her. She was doing what she was GOOD at. Hosea canonically praises her as the best thief/conwoman and actress he has EVER known. I have the audio link as proof if anyone wants it. That was all taken away from her the second she found she was pregnant. Massive amounts of women died, and by 1900 - 30 percent of children died before their first birthday. (hence what likely happened with the Marston baby, but I have my theories on what happened there in another post.) Those numbers would have been WORSE in 1895 and Abigail was living in a TENT most of this time. Can you imagine being pregnant, constantly on the move and giving birth with only the possibility of a roof above your head? Abigail would have grown up seeing the women in the brothels handle pregnancy. She would have seen the fear in those women's eyes. The hopelessness. She would have seen those try to perform abortions or women die during childbirth - or be kicked out of the brothel for becoming pregnant in the first place. Also, Abigail lost her status once she became pregnant. She couldn't provide for the gang in the same way. She didn't have John's support. Grimshaw canonically doesn't like her and Bessie is dead at this point. She has no woman who cares about her. Then Jack came and she was treated like a burden - a charity case to everyone but Hosea and probably Arthur. Single women in the 1890s, especially illiterate ones with zero prospects were almost never accepted. Abigail also might have dealt with post partum depression, too. Abigail talks about how she's always wanted a family, but she also talks about how frustrated she is with Jack and how she wishes she had help. She talks about how the gang views her and outside of Tilly and Hosea, hardly anyone ever talks to her...at all. Sadie is extremely busy and there aren't any conversations between them outside of chapter 2. Most of the camp doesn't. She's completely isolated and considered a source of drama. Abigail had everything to lose, including her life. So why is she demonized?

[mccardswife]

We've got your back

lionesses x teen!reader

lucy bronze x teen!reader

summary: lionesses x teen!reader, where r struggles with social anxiety and her older teammates support her.

(this was a request, but the request disappeared. but here it is!)

warnings: social anxiety, angst, nightmare, fluff and mentions of panic attack, please remind me if there is more tw! (do not read if you get triggered)

word count: 2826

i hope you like this one, i loved the request and i got really satisfied with the oneshot!

hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

You zoned out again, probably for the dozen time this week. It is England camp and you know what that means, I love all my england teammates trust me. They are like my family but I have a secret no one knows about, not even my teammates at Arsenal.

I have social anxiety, i feel very ashamed by it. It is so embarrassing that I need to take medications to function, and even when I take them I don't feel like myself.

It was day 2 of england camp. Which means we arrived yesterday. I am roomies with Lucy this camp because Jordan is with her lover (Leah). I love rooming with Lucy, she is like a mother to me. She is very protective but I try keeping my diagnosis a secret from her. Sometimes I even call her mom.

I am 17 now and when i first got called up to the national team I was 15 so the whole team, especially the older girls and Lucy are very protective over me and they helped me when i struggled with panic attacks during my first call ups and my debut for England.

8:00 clock

The alarm went off on Lucy's phone, I did not sleep very well. I had an awful nightmare in the middle of the night, that is all i think about now. I am just so scared that people will judge me for what i say. After conversations with the team last night I regret what i said, you did not say something bad. But you just feel being judged. The most awful feeling in the world.

My mom turned off the alarm and turned to me, I probably looked awful because I slept like shit. "Oh y/nn, are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, just did not sleep very well" I said back. I started walking towards the bathroom exhaustively when she came up behind me and gave me a hug. "You know we are here for you right", she said. I just hugged her back saying "I know mom, i love you" and walked in the bathroom locking the door getting ready.

When I was done I unlocked the door and asked Lucy if she was ready to go down for breakfast. You see, we have two bathrooms. So each one of us has their private bathroom. I totally love it.

When we open our door Jordan and Leah stood there already waiting for us, they have the room beside us and we always walk down for breakfast together.

I have never been so scared before but after my nightmare last night I am really scared now, the only one who knows I have social anxiety is my manager at Arsenal, Jonas Eidevall and my manager at the national team, Sarina Wiegman.

It's an obligation for them to know because mental health is very important and because I take medications everyday. That reminds me, I forgot to take it this morning. Shit.

When we walked into the dining room I was sweating and nervous as crazy. I was shaking non stop and couldn't wait for my breakfast so I could sit down alone in peace. Just thinking.

After getting my food, I decided to eat some and oatmeal today. Because the oatmeal here is hella good.

Anyway I walked towards an empty table when I heard a familiar voice calling my name, I turned around and saw the gaffer, Sarina Wiegman.

Shit

"Y/n, could we talk outside for a minute please?". She asked me with a smile but I could tell the concerning look in her eyes when she saw me fiddling with my fingers anxiously.

"Yes, of course" I said with a shaky voice I think the whole team heard because when me and Sarina walked outside of the room I could see in the corner of my eye Lucy and the other girls watching me with questioning but worried looks.

When me and Sarina got outside she looked me in the eye and asked if something was on my mind. I said no. "Are you sure y/nn?, it is important that we know everything".

"Okay fine, I have been really struggling with nightmares and I had a panic attack a few hours before arriving to England camp yesterday" I said with a shaky voice and tears in my eyes.

"Oh honey, it is okay! Totally okay to have ups and downs, everyone here would support you, which got me asking, does anybody know about your social anxiety? And have you taken your medications today?" she asked...

I looked down in shame, no and no I told her.

"I am really sorry Sarina but it is so hard, I don't want to be judged if I tell the others, and be treated differently.

"Honey, it is very important that you open up, I really think it is time for you to open up, and I promise you that none of the girls will judge you, we all love you and want to support you! You will not get treated differently, everyone has their own struggles, do not feel embarrassed by it", she said to me sternly but very soft.

Which is one of the things I like about Sarina, a brilliant manager but first and foremost a amazing women who cares about every one of us as her kids.

Me and Sarina talked a bit more and she told me that because I have been struggling a lot with my anxiety and sleeping I will not start tomorrow, when we play against Ireland in the euro qualifier at Wembley. Which I totally understand, I need to get my shit together and open up because I hopefully think I will feel much better then. Also feel closer with my teammates, not that I am not close with them. trust me I am but recently I have been shutting down and try to isolate from the others, which they now have realised.

Sarina has some of my medications in her office, incase I forget to bring or take mine so we went to her office and I took them, with disgust. It makes me feel different, I don't like that.

"Y/n, is it not your fault you have social anxiety, okay? Trust me, you are not different, okay. Now you need to go to breakfast before training".

She then gave me a hug and I left her office. Have I told you that I love the hugs Sarina gives, it is probably one of the best hugs ever!

I walked towards the dining room again and looked at my phone and saw that I was with Sarina for almost 20 minutes, now Lucy is probably really worried.

I thought about how I am going to tell the team. I am first going to tell Lucy and some of the veterans on the team.

When I walked inside dining room some of the tables were in a middle of a conversation and did not see me, unfortunately Lucy looked up at the door the second it open.

Lucys pov

Sarina called y/n outside and I would be lying if I said I was not worried. I am sitting with the group I always sit with at England camp, Leah, Keira, Georgia, Rachel, Millie, Jordan, Mary and Beth Mead. I have been worried about y/n for a while, I sat deep in my thoughts thinking about y/n when Rach suddenly asked. "Lucy, you good? You've been sitting spaced out for a while".

"Yes I am ok, i am just a bit worried about the youngster, in other words y/nn". As much as i love her I want what's best for her and I really think she is struggling with something, she always seems scared, nervous and it gives me signs of anxiety".

"Yeah that is actually true" Leah said, "Her being on arsenal me, Beth and Jordan pretty much see y/n everyday and she seems very tense". Millie being the softie she is said "We should probably try talk to her later when she comes back".

"Good idea, I say. "but I can't stop thinking about why Sarina wanted to talk to her".

Keira leaned over to me and whispered in my ear "stop being so nervous love, we will talk to her and support y/nn no matter what".

I just kissed her on the cheek and said thank you.

We sat there eating and making small talk when I looked at the clock, y/n has been away for like 20 minutes now. I am kind of starting to get nervous now

But as I thought of her the door opened and there she walked in deep in her thoughts with a hard look on her face. She picked up her food she got earlier and wanted to sit alone, she walked past us but Jordan grabbed her wrist softly asking "You want to sit with us?, there is an empty chair beside Georgia".

Reader´s pov again

I picked up my food I left on an empty table before I was pulled out to talk with Sarina and was walking towards and empty table, but as I was walking past the table Lucy and the other girls were on I felt a hand grabbing my wrist, softly but suddenly.

it was Jordan

"You want to sit with us?, there is an empty chair beside Georgia".

The table consisted of Lucy, Leah, Keira, Georgia, Rachel, Millie the brick wall Bright, Jordan, Mary and Beth Mead.

Deciding not to be rude I said "Yeah sure", with probably the shakiest voice for the 100th times today. I walked over and sat beside Georgia

Then I felt as I was being watch, I looked every one of them in the eye and I asked if something was wrong.

Lucy for the second time today asked "Are you ok y/nn, all of us are pretty worried about you". Beth said "Yeah, the whole team are and we want to know what's been up with you?, what did Sarina want to talk to you about?.

Leah being the skipper she is, saw you felt a bit overwhelmed with all the questions, "Relax, one question at a time" she said with a soft smile on her face.

I want to open up I thought, but at the same thing I don't.. why does it have to be so hard? Am I going to get judged, I know what Sarina told me but still".

"Babe" Lucy said "What is going on in that pretty mind of yours?".

I felt tears starting to drop and my hands shaking on the table while my foot was bouncing like crazy. When I felt Georgia's hand on my shoulder pulling me in for a side hug I lost it.

"I have social anxiety, i have been diagnosed with it for a few months. Only Jonas and Sarina know. I take medications for it, Sarina know that something has been up with me so she asked me if some of you knew, if I took my meds today, which I forgot so I needed to take them with her.".....

It got quiet for a second and I thought I was going to die for a minute, but Lucy walked over and gave me a hug from behind.

"Why did you not tell us?" Keira asked,

"I am really sorry about that, I felt ashamed. Embarrassed for needing to take meds and not being a fully functional human being. I am not normal, I was afraid of getting treated differently"...

"And that you would secretly judge me" I said in a very low voice but the girls heard.

Millie said to me sternly "You are the best human being a person could ask for, we would never judge you ever. We only want to help, we had our suspicions about it because we saw the signs".

Rachel jumped also in and said "We've got your back babe, you are perfect the way you are, no need to be ashamed of a diagnosis that is not your fault.

Mary being the angel she is said "I kind of know how you feel, when I was at my lowest a few years ago it was hell. but I had the best people who helped me through it and now we want to be the people to help you!"

Gosh how I love all of them, they are so supporting and caring but I was still very scared because I have not told them about my nightmares and panic attacks yet.

Lucy or my so called mum asked because she knows me through and through "Is there something more you want to tell us"

"Yes, but please don't be mad", you said in a begging voice.

"Of course we won't me mad love" Keira said in a reassuring tone.

"The nightmares and panic attacks has come back and it is worse now than ever. I had a nightmare last night, that is why I could not sleep. And I have been heavily struggled with panic attacks and nightmare for a long time, because of my anxiety. A few hours before we travelled to England camp yesterday I had the worst panic attack ever. I got it under control eventually by myself after maybe an hour, but felt uneasy for the rest of the day"

"It is ok not to be ok, but this is serious, we all care and want to help you. It sucks that you have felt this way y/nn" Jordan said with the biggest smile, it looked sad but kind.

"I am really sorry about not telling, but I promise I will be more open but you need to understand it is very difficult for me" I said, "And I am sorry mom, it is not your fault. I know you were asleep when I had the nightmare but I could not bear myself to wake you, I felt embarrassed" I said to Lucy.

Lucy´s pov

"And I am sorry mom, it is not your fault. I know you were asleep when I had the nightmare but I could not bear myself to wake you, I felt embarrassed"

Hearing those words come out of my daughter´s mouth broke me. I tried not to let tears fall but it was impossible now. I am her biggest supporter and I always will be. I just want her to know that

"You are amazing, brilliant, caring, loving and all other kind words I could say! I love you so much my babygirl."

Reader´s pov again

"I love you to mom". I said to Lucy.

Leah said sternly to me "You need to go see a therapist, when we come back at arsenal again we will go twice a week and I will go with you then me, Beth and Jordan can switch who would go with you"

"Seriously?" I groaned.

"Yes", they all said sternly in sync.

"Okay then, but Leah, you, Beth, and Jordan don't need to go with me"

"But we want to" the three of them said gladly.

"Thank you" I said looking down...

"Come here y/nn" Georgia said pulling me in for a hug, I love Georgias hugs.

Every one of the girls gave me a bear crushing hug telling me

"We will always be here for you babe, just call or text or do anything. And we will be there in an eye blink for you! We are so glad you told us, now we just need to tell the others."

"Could we please do it later?" I asked nervously...

"Of course" Rachel said.

"When we are back at arsenal we gotta tell our arsenal teammates too" Beth said.

"I know I know..." I said.

"I will always support you kid, I love you so much and I will always do. You are literally my kid just not official. I would love to be your official mom tho, if you'd have me?" Lucy asked.

I looked at her in utterly shock, and the other girls looked at us in awe.

"Are you serious, please be serious?" I asked with my mouth hanging open.

"Of course, as I said I love you like my own family". Lucy told me with tears

I said loudly "Yes, of course I would want you to adopt me, it kind of feel like you already have tho but still omg".

I started crying again but this time happy tears, while I gave my mom a big hug the girls took a photo of us and gave us a hug.

The perfect group hug.

Little did y/n know that Sarina stood outside watching everything that just had happen, you telling the others about your struggles and Lucy confessing how she feel about you.

Sarina really felt like a proud mom now.

"I am really the best momager ever" Sarina said walking away chuckling with the most heartwarming smile on her face ever.

[kissofthemis]

hii! can I request the nxx boys with a reader who used to be in an abusive relationship (now an ex) and an example situation when one of the boys raises a hand the reader thinks their going to git them so they flinch or when the boys cook the reader a table full of food the reader starts to sob because they're not used to eating in big amounts (ik I have that problem) all separate pls c:

srry if it's a bit too much u don't have to accept the request!

Hi friend! Sorry for the wait! This type of request is not a problem for me, but I will put it under a "read more" to be safe!

TW abuse mention; implied abuse; PTSD

❤️ Artem ❤️

Your first instinct upon seeing all the delicious dishes that Artem placed on the table was for your mouth to start watering.

Your second instinct was to consciously shut down that response before Artem could notice, and you managed to cut it off before even a drop of saliva could escape your lips.

You'd trained yourself how to do that in your last relationship, a long time ago.

When Artem finally sat down to join you, you didn't make eye contact with him. You just dipped your head politely and began to eat from the plate he had placed in front of you. If you avoided looking at the other dishes he'd placed on the table, from colorful grilled vegetables to aromatic jasmine rice, then you wouldn't crave them as much.

Artem needed more food than you anyway. He was larger, smarter, busier. He needed the energy, and you should be grateful he whipped up a plate for you at all.

That was what you had learned a long time ago. To be grateful for what you had and not to beg for what you didn't deserve.

Perhaps you ate too quickly, however, because your plate was empty within minutes. You sat quietly, waiting to see if Artem would stir up conversation. (He wasn't a highly talkative person, so you were equally content with sipping from your water glass in silence.)

Finally he spoke, and nothing could have prepared you for the concerned murmur of, "If you're still hungry, you can take more. Everything here is for us to share."

"... Huh?"

Now you couldn't help yourself from gawking at him, wide-eyed and perplexed. "N-no, I'm fine. You already made me a plate!"

Artem pensively prodded at a pepper. "Only to start you off," he explained. "I wasn't sure what your favorite foods are, or what you would enjoy most, so I gave you a little bit of everything and decided to put the rest here in their original dishes so you could decide on your own what you wanted to eat." His brow knitted in consternation as he added, the worry in his tone subtle but unmistakable, "Did you think that was all I would let you eat?"

The worry on his face dramatically increased in mere seconds. He nearly jumped out of his seat as he leaned over with a napkin to dab at your eyes. "You're crying. Are you crying?"

Clearly he hadn't expected this reaction from you, and honestly, you hadn't expected to react this way either. The only person more confused than him right now was you. All of this? For you to eat as you please? Any dish, any amount?

"I... You... You're so kind, Artem," was all you could manage to mumble out between your tears.

"I'm nothing special," he insisted, his deep ocean gaze gentle but firm. "I care about you. A lot. So please... eat up and take care of yourself, alright?"

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💛 Luke 💛

"Luke, we're going to be late!"

Running on the same wavelength as the brunet sometimes did more harm than good. You had both arrived way too early for the escape room that you planned to do today with some friends, so you had camped out underneath a shady tree and watched ducks floating by on the lake.

Who knew counting ducks could make you fall asleep just like sheep?

"It's like a 5 minute walk! The building is right there!" Luke protested, but even his amused grin couldn't hide the hint of concern in his voice. "That's nothing for me!"

"Okay, then you will be on time, but I don't follow the Luke Pearce cardio regimen!" you whined. "And if you leave me in the dust, I'll never forgive you!"

You knew he wouldn't run off without you, so your "threat" was mostly in jest, but the fear that flickered across his eyes almost made you feel guilty.

Almost, but not guilty enough to stop you from sprinting ahead.

"Wait, wait!" Luke cried out suddenly as you began to dart off without him.

His words stopped you in your tracks, and you spun around as fast as you could to turn back towards him.

The heat coursing through your adrenaline-pumped veins immediately froze as a large hand came flying towards your face.

No. No! I messed up! I'm sorry!

With a shriek, you dropped to the ground, arms raised defensively above your head.

I took it too far. I wasn't funny. He's mad. He's mad he's mad he's mad and I deserve this. I deserve this.

Cowering on the ground with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, you braced yourself for impact. Maybe it'd be a smack, maybe a slap, maybe a punch. You weren't sure, but you knew it was coming.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

... why wasn't it coming?

Hesitantly you opened one eye, expecting to see rage ablaze in Luke's passionate coral eyes.

But instead you saw pure fear on his face, as his skin had gone white as a sheet and his hands pulled in close to his chest, shaking.

"Did I... scare you?" he asked carefully, his voice hoarse.

Why was he afraid? Wasn't he mad? Wasn't he...

Maybe your gut reaction was... wrong?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, and you slowly lowered your arms.

Luke looked as though he wanted to step forward, but he held himself back so as to avoid startling you. "You had a leaf in your hair," was all he said. "I wanted to get it out."

"I'm sorry," you repeated. You felt like a broken record, but as shaken as you still were, what else could you say?

Luke lowered himself onto one knee and tentatively reached a hand towards you, like he were coaxing a small animal. He seemed relieved as you inched a little closer to him.

When you finally got close enough for him to remove the leaf, he instead pulled you into his arms.

"Who do I need to kill, [Y/N]?"

"Luke, no."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💜 Marius 💜

You tried to keep your eyes off the clock, but the more time that passed, the more difficult that became.

While you had no doubt that Marius von Hagen, of all people, could easily get another reservation at a high-end restaurant, you knew he had been looking forward to taking you to this particular spot for weeks now. But luck had not been on his side this week, as Pax was swamped from left to right with deals to close and disputes to settle. Marius had been sleeping even less than usual; he wouldn't admit it to you, but even if he covered the bags under his eyes with makeup and chugged coffees, you could see the fatigue in the way his eyes had lost a lot of sparkle.

You loved the mischievous gleams and artistic sparks in his eyes, and if this date was only going to cause him more stress...

"Hey, Mar--"

"You will see me at 2:00 tomorrow, or you will find another buyer! Capice?"

Everything else in the room melted away all at once. The clock. Vincent's apologetic face. The Pax sign behind the desk. The huge windows revealing the sunset. All of it, all of it faded into oblivion as soon as that deep, loud, angry voice hit your ears.

Like a thunderstorm had let loose a ferocious flash of lightning and deafening clap of thunder just above your head, all your senses kicked into high gear to focus on one thing:

Stay alive. Stay alive. Get low, get quiet, stay alive.

You weren't sure when Marius hung up the phone. You weren't sure when Marius walked over to you. You weren't even sure where you were.

Perhaps it was for the best that you couldn't see what Marius saw right now: the person he loved most in the world, crouching behind a couch with hands clapped over their ears, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and murmuring quietly and rapidly in an effort to stay grounded.

Marius von Hagen had money, power, and influence beyond what most people could dream, but even he couldn't stop a trauma response in its tracks.

You flinched as you felt a large weight drop on top of your head, but slowly you unclenched your jaw as you realized it was a large but gentle hand, stroking your hair rhythmically.

You dared to open your eyes, slowly fluttering your eyelids open until Marius' concerned, exhausted face came into clear view.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he murmured.

You shook your head, and as you pulled your hands away from your ears, you tried to reach out and pat him on the shoulder. But your hands were still shaking, and you cursed yourself silently as you realized you wouldn't be able to comfort him like this. "You've been under a lot of stress."

Marius let out a low, self-deprecating chuckle. "That's no excuse. I can't fulfill my very important role if I lose my cool like that."

"The President of Pax isn't allowed to get upset?"

Marius snorted. "Not that role. Nobody cares about me as president, anyway. I mean as your lover."

Before you could even fully process his words and tell him how touching and sincere they were, Marius gently flicked your forehead.

"Besides, I'll be less stressed now that I called off the deal with that old curmudgeon. Ready for dinner, babe?"

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💚 Vyn 💚

Stealth. Stealth. You were the embodiment of stealth.

Phase 1 had been easy. Since you were staying in Vyn's guest room tonight as he had to get up early (or at least attempt to) tomorrow, he hadn't noticed you tip-toeing out at midnight. That room was around the corner from his own bedroom, after all, and his closed door meant he couldn't see you sneak over to the stairs.

Phase 2 had been a little more challenging: the stairs themselves. In order to avoid any creaking that could give you away, you had decided to crawl along the side and test each step to figure out where the sturdiest part was. (You had also made a mental note to inform Vyn that the third step from the bottom definitely needed to be repaired, because it squeaked like a rusty hinge.)

Phase 3 was almost complete and going off without a hitch. You had just turned the corner into his kitchen, and now the refrigerator door was in plain sight. The hardwood was a bit of a pain compared to sneaking around on carpet, but your socks should be sufficiently muffled on the kitchen tile. You inhaled deeply and gave your stomach a reassuring pat.

'Soon. Soon we will be appeased.'

Gingerly you stepped across the tile, gently you opened the door, and with a victorious smile, you inspected the glowing contents of Vyn's refrigerator.

Jackpot!

As you debated whether to grab yogurt, cheese, or some celery to scoop up peanut butter, a low voice sounded behind you.

"If you want a midnight snack, might I recommend something low sugar so that you can fall asleep shortly after?"

You nearly screeched as you slammed the door shut and whirled around with your back pressed against its cold metal surface. Suppressing a whimper, you raised your arms defensively in front of your abdomen and face as you looked up to an amused pair of glimmering golden eyes.

"I... I'll go back to bed. I'm sorry. I didn't..."

Excuses swarmed your head like a mess of bees, but you doubted any of them would spare you from your inevitable fate.

They had never saved you in the past, after all.

"Please don't be mad...."

You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth. That would just make Vyn angrier! You couldn't bear to look at him, so you turned your head away and held your breath as you waited for his response.

"Why would I be mad?"

Surprised by these words and how genuine they sounded, you dared to take a peek at Vyn. He didn't even look sleepy as he gazed at you with knitted brow and a fretful frown on his pale face. "If anything, I'm... disappointed." He sighed softly and extended a hand to you. "Let me help you up, darling."

You weren't sure your quivering legs would support you even with Vyn's help, so you kept one hand on the refrigerator door as Vyn helped you to your feet. "Disappointed?" you echoed, unable to quash your curiosity.

"Of course. I am, after all, an excellent pastry chef, if I do say so myself." His gaze softened as he guided you slowly to one of the seats behind the kitchen counter. "The thought that you'd rather snack on cheese instead of a fresh tiramisu, matcha tart, or mille-feuille... well, that is quite the blow to my self-esteem."

Was he... trying to lighten the mood? You couldn't be sure if he was serious or joking. "I... shouldn't be hungry. You gave me plenty to eat."

Vyn didn't seem bothered by that. "No 'should' or 'shouldn't' applies here. You are hungry, and I simply cannot allow that." He chuckled and opened the refrigerator, tutting softly as he reviewed its contents. "I'll have to regretfully inform you I am low on eggs, but perhaps next time I can make you a crème brulée."

As relief flooded over you, you allowed yourself to smile. "... I don't think I trust you with a torch at this hour, anyway."

Vyn drummed his fingers against the counter. "Harsh, but understandable." He sighed. "Now then, please select a dessert, unless you want me to psychoanalyze everything that happened just now instead."

"Strawberry shortcake, please!"

[flemingsgirl]

Long way

TW: Mention of an injury, self doubt

This is your story of rising in your team and the growing friendship on this journey.

Your story starts way back in October 2012 when you were called for camp for the under 17 championship qualification on home soil in Oosterwolde and Meppel, your first ever call up for the Dutch national team.

It was unbelievable to you and your family for you to take a further step and play for your nation. Playing at Twente you have seen some of the player on the pitch already knowing how strong and talented they are, in the back of your head the though manifests itself you’re not fitting in, not being worthy for the bagde to be worn by you.

After the arrival at the camp, the first hours of the day were used to gather the player in the prep room, and all the instructions for the training week were shared. Further, the rooming was hung up.

Jill Roord, Vivianne Miedema, Laura Strik and Y/F/N Y/L/N

All well-known names in the Vrouwen Eredivisie. As you read Jill’s name, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Miedema’s name often came up whether it was in the TV, the talks at home or in your team, she is one of the faces of the Dutch football believing she’ll have a massive impact for changes.

An arm sling around your shoulder, “no one’s ever going to separate us,” she winks at you.

“No never,” you shake your head in agreement bringing your arm around her middle.

Well, you and Jill played in Twente since you can think, going to the same school, spending free time outside with her brothers most time playing football, you two would always win against your opponent’s indifferent if they were three or four.

“I’m really glad you’re finally called up as well you made such progress.”

“Wow thank you Jilly. I’m so excited,” you two jump up and down as you waited for the elevator.

As you step into your room, the other two are already making themselves at home. The voices of Jill and you as you chatter about all and nothing, fill the else silence air. “Well look at you Vivianne,” Jill opens her arms for the older one to embrace her. “Looking fine in something other than your football kit,” the pair chuckled and entangled from one another. “Laura,” she steps over to the other girl, hugging her as well. “This is Y/N,” she points at you, and you wave back to them. “It’s her first call up, so let’s not frighten her too much.”

Vivianne is the first to make a move and you hold your hand out to her she ignores it and throws her arms around you, her scent somewhat flowery and sweetish lingers in your nose, calming your body. “Nice to meet you, I can imagine how nervous you must be.”

“Yeah well, words can’t even describe my state,” you drag a chuckle out, and Viv gives you a one-sided smile. “But I think I’ll get over it.”

“That’s for sure.”

The first days of training were hard. You didn’t quite fit into the group other than your three roommates, but it was on good tracks. It was game night for the whole team, and you were split into groups constructed that the rooms didn’t pair. The conversations came quite easy and felt light, much laughter were exchanged, and you felt involved, not the first time call up attained in the group.

On your way back to your room, Viv reaches your side as you stand in front of the elevator. “I was thinking maybe you wanna go on a walk,” she rubs her neck, her eyes avoiding you.

“I’m up to it.” The brunette smiled shyly and leads the way.

Strolling around the campus and partly in the near spinney, you get to know the striker. “With your name everywhere there’s a lot of pressure on you, right?”

“Yeah, you can say that. Mostly hope for the nation.”

“Oh yes, promising the change and leading to wins and all that,” you gesture with your hand.

“Right. Did we play against each other?”

“Last matchday,” you chuckle. “It was my debut for Twente in the senior. But only twenty minutes or so.”

“Sorry for crashing it,” she shoves your shoulder as she chuckles.

“Don’t worry I’ll get over it.”

“What’s your impression on camp after your first days?”

“Everyone’s so nice and calm and lovely. It had quite a bad start, but it’s all good now. I’m enjoying the time.”

“That’s good to hear, thankfully. We’re like a family.

“Seemingly yeah. But I don’t think I’ll get much time to play. No experiences and new.”

“I wouldn’t say that in my first year I had my starting eleven debut and got to play.”

You roll your eyes, “well, yeah, but not everyone is Ms Vivianne Miedema.”

She places her hand over her heart. “Ouch.” She says while brushing off a fake tear. “Jealous?” Viv’s head turns towards you, and she winks at you.

“Just ambitious to reach that as well,” a smirk creeps on your lips, nudging her side. “You don’t need to hold the whole nation on your shoulder. Taking some package from you.”

“Sweet of you, no one ever offered me.”

“I mean you’re young shouldn’t be doing it all by yourself.”

Vivianne raises her arm to lay it around your shoulder, stopping, you notice out of the corner of your eye and you rest your arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to you, she takes it as an invitation places her arm down.

“I was starstrucked when I knew you’d be here,” you broke the silence that fell between you.

“Why? I’m as much a girl as you.”

“Well, you’re still Viv Miedema.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, your name precedes you.”

“In a bad way?” You lean closer into her side, bringing some pressure on her figure.

“No, never just blown away by it, making it difficult to get to know you, the real you. Being impressed by your talent and reputation.”

“I understand. But it’s getting better, right?”

“Yeah, it does,” a light laughter is exchanged between you. “Mostly cause you’re not on the field.”

“I can make it easy for you.”

You caught as breath is stuck in your trachea. “How do you imagine?”

“Doing something in private.”

“We’re already doing something...."

“Yes,” her head lowers, eyes glued on the ground, and a pout settles on her face what you couldn’t see. What you could sense was how her arm backed from you, no longer spending warmth to your slightly shivering body.

“You alright?”

She shrugs her shoulder; you stop, but she keeps walking, and you reach for her arm. “Viv,” you spin her around her eyes, avoiding you. “I think we can get a coffee the next day if that’s all right with you.” The corners of her mouth slowly turn up as she moves her eyes to lock them with yours, stars sparkling in them.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

The days flew by and sooner rather than later your time at the Dutch camp is over. You got a few minutes in the game, which were celebrated by the team, but mostly with Jill and Viv. Both came running to you after the final whistle was blown, and they lifted you into the sky.

You make your way back home ready to continue the season, with many new formed friendships. Keep in touch with some girls, and every now and then calls you sometimes meet up with a smaller group, including Jill and Viv, as well.

Getting called for the next round of the qualifiers didn’t excite you that much knowing Viv wouldn’t be there due to an injury that happened in one of the latest games in the season. “Stop moping around. You got me rabbit,” Jill shoves you in your seat next to her.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes playfully, and the girl just huffs. “What would I do without you, Jill Jamie Roord,” a sarcastic tone lingering in your voice.

“I hate you too,” she turns away from you and starts a conversation with some other players.

To say Jill was right, oh absolutely, how you were moped and devastated that the familiar warmth and her loving smile couldn’t support in the games you were playing in the line-up. Nevertheless, the losses you went through and the fact you couldn’t qualify.

Arriving back at home, you were met with your family, and as soon as their embrace spent you warmth and support you, let all the tears flow. You were repressing the whole journey. The ringing of the doorbell interrupts the trembling of your body. “Hello Mr. Y/L/N,” her voice singing in your ears, bringing you back to earth. Turning your tired body around your reddish eyes wander over to the girl in the doorframe. You dry some of the tears, giving her a half-sided smile.

“What are you doing here?”

Your parents took the cue and left you alone. “Well nice to see you too,” she steps closer, her arms tracing around your figure, pulling you into her, your head resting in the crock of her neck. “It’s alright,” her finger cradled your head. “We can’t always win.” A quick peck was placed on the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you, so much, starting eleven, how excited. The new face of the Dutch.”

A caught escapes your lips closely followed by a giggle, “oh shut up.”

“Your first goal as well. You don’t love it?”

“Well of course, yes, but it hasn’t helped us. Out of the tournament.” You buried further into her, “and couldn’t celebrate with my favorite person,” you whisper against her skin, the warmth of your breath causing goosebumps to form on her body.

“Can you repeat yourself?” she breaks your closeness, her blue eyes darting at you.

“You weren’t supposed to hear it anyway.”

“I heard something with favourite person.”

“That’s all you need to know.”

Qualifying for the under 19 European championship the next year, you started every game behind Vivianne and beside Jill, the perfect trio, creating chances, great crosses, and even better goals. Carrying your team into the finale. You met Katie McCabe the first time in the qualifier as she tackled you, mostly successfully separating you from the ball, but mostly. This one time, her studs meeting your ankle, you wrap your hand around it as you fell to the floor, face scrunched in the pain, and wince escapes your lips you were subbed off.

Your next encounter followed three months later in the semi-final. You hold no grunge against the Irish player. She’s a talented young woman, and she knows it. Knocking them out was your revenge.

And when the final whistle blows in the last game, you sank to your knees, your face buried in your hands as you let them meet the ground as well. Crying and chuckling that’s the state you were in when Viv throws herself on top of you, the two of you crashing onto the ground. “I can’t believe it!” her scream fills your ear. “You were so unbelievable.”

You turn under her body now facing her, tears running down her cheeks as well. “You scored the game winning goal,” you shout back.

“With your assistant!”

“Crafty Ms Miedema,” Jill lays her body on top of you two. “We made it!”

[veren-cos]

You Will Be Okay

Astarion (Bg3) x reader

TW: Mentions of Self Harm. Do not read this if this will trigger you or make you uncomfortable. If you struggle with self-harm or suicidal thoughts, I strongly recommend you reach out to someone.

Over 1000 words. Probably. I don't know how to get a word count in my notes app 😭

Not proof read

"I think I hate myself." It slipped out. Fuck. It slipped out, you didn't mean to say that. Not right now. Not when everything was going so well?

Astarion stood there, tensed up. "What?" His face was flickering between concern, and confusion, and... whatever else that was.

You weren't going to repeat it. You couldn't. You were already panicking from saying it once, you couldn't imagine saying it again. Much less having a conversation about this. "I need to go." You said, too loud for talking, but too quiet to be considered a yell.

"OH no you don't" He grabbed you by the wrist as you were turning out the door. "We need to talk about this."

"I can't. No... No. No no no no nonono I can't—I can't do this. I can't do this astarion not today not toda-" You were pulling away, but that only tightened his grip. He pulled you into a hug. And although it was a loose one, it still made you feel trapped.

"Okay. Compromise. You've shown me how important those are." You looked at him, still panicked, but you were willing to hear him out. "You can go. But!"

Of course there was a but.

"only if I come with you. And!"

Another condition?

"Only if we talk about it when we come back. We don't have to talk at all while we are out. I'd prefer it, but it isn't a necessity. I just need you to not be alone. Either way, someone needs to be with you. Whether it's me, or say... one of our other companions? If you don't want this to linger in the air? I'm sure anyone of them would be happy to accompany you for an outing."

He was being. Suprisingly considerate about this. Accommodating. But now was not the time. You needed out, now.

You pulled out of the hug, fast. Not that it wasn't appreciated, but it was starting to feel more suffocating. "Alright. Alright. Okay. Yes. Fine. Good. Great. Awesome!" You felt a touch on your hand again. "Okay. Hoooo" you let out a breath. Then took a few more deep ones. "I'll take Gale. Is that okay? I mean you can come too but I really, really don't want to talk about this and if you're there I know I'll want to and I really can't." Your words were getting faster the more that came out. You took another breath, "But I will when we get back. Okay?"

"Okay. Be safe, I'll be around. I love you" Astarion sqeezed your hand tight, and then let go. He followed you and Gale out of camp, grateful (for once) that you and him were close.

Once Astarion saw you and Gale off, he made his way back his tent. Considering you weren't feeling the best, he knew he had roughly an hour to prepare.

You hated yourself? Blasphemy. Well... not blasphemy. He had seen you, the faint scars in the most random of places. Places that would be too well protected to be done by an enemy. The scars and cuts—just deep enough to have been recent, the constant torn skin around your fingertips. So he supposed he should have already known, but he didnt know you still felt this way.

He had plenty of experience hating himself, but he didn't dwell on it like you did. He swallowed his hatred and turned to bad habits - habits you were helping him fix. Now it was his turn to help you.

He had begun by cleaning. It wasn't necessarily messy, but he had seen your belongings and how they had gotten out of order. Once everything was in its proper place, he started to plan how to tackle this.

It wasn't something to be taken lightly, and it wasn't something that would be solved in a day. This conversation was a start, but it certainly wouldn't be the end. What did he bring up? How much could you handle? Did he mention that he had his suspicions, or did he leave that alone? Gods, this was hard. You've seemed so put together on your journey that he thought this was resolved a long time ago. When was the last time you'd hurt yourself?

Nothing much got accomplished in that hour, not that he could without you there. And before he knew it, you were home.

You sat down on a cushion, not having the luxury of a chair at the moment, and looked into Astarion's eyes. You knew you had to be the one to start this conversation. You knew it, but that doesn't mean you had to like it.

"Thank you," Astarion raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "for giving me space."

He gave a light smile, "of course. You have done the same for me countless times, and I know how hard these things can be. I will never pressure you into an immediate conversation. But, my dear, we need to talk about this. You can't be hating yourself. You are wonderful. I know some simple words of praise won't wash this away, but I need you to know that you are good."

Astarion came to sit next to you, close enough where you could feel his presence, but not be overwhelmed.

Feelings were bubbling up. Everything was coming up. You could feel tears start to stream down your face, falling whenever your breath shook your entire body with force. "I just hate everything. I hate myself. So much. Astarion, you don't know what things were like for me before. I was pitiful. You wouldn't have even spared me a thought."

You inturupted yourself with near hysterical sobbing. The thought of not being with him was too much to bear with all your emotions. "Go on. It's safe. You are safe here" He placed his hand atop yours and gave it a squeeze, like earlier.

"I. Uhm. I used cut myself. A lot. I know you've seen the reminents of it. I just." You took a minute to catch your breath before continuing. "I just couldn't tell you. Because there wasn't even a good reason for it."

"I didn't like the way I felt. I didn't like the way I looked. The way I acted? I felt like such a burden to everyone. And now I'm such a burden to you? And I know you'll just say that I'm not, but I should have been able to resolve this on my own. If I'd had my way, you would have never found out and thought my scars were from some brave battle. It wasn't a brave battle. It was self loathing."

You took another crying break. How long was this going to go on? How much of your guts would you spill before you broke?

"And I still think of it. All the time. I still hate myself. I still feel the urge to destroy myself in the only way I know how. But I can't afford to. I'm trying so hard to stay put together for everyone here. I want you all to live. But I really don't want that for myself."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit, shit! Well now he knows everything. No turning back. Not that there was before, but your in too deep to even try and bury this.

He was sitting in front of you. You saw he was taking in everything you were saying at lighting speed, but you couldn't tell what he was thinking. He just kept rubbing circles into your palm, and handing you tissues at the appropriate moments.

You paused a bit too long for it to be considered normal in a conversation, so he urged you to continue. "Darling, I won't judge. It's okay, you can keep going."

You once again took some deep breaths. "I uhm... I tried to kill myself a while back? It didn't work, clearly, but the thought of it never truly went away. I uhm.

...

I still.. want to? And it's not that I'm unhappy, don't get me wrong! Every moment of joy has been genuine. But it's all being muffled by a blanket of sorrow and despair? That is dramatic oh hells. But yeah. I think uh. I think it's all out now?"

You sighed, both scared and relieved. You didn't want him to think that you didn't love him just because you didn't want to be here. You loved him so much it was probably one of the few things keeping you. Not that you would tell him. That is too much of a burden to put on one person.

So this is what you've been thinking. It explained a lot. The seemingly random guilty looks, and the distance whenever he tried to get closer. He had stopped pursuing you as a form of protection and deceit a while ago, but he had always thought that was the reason for your distance.

Now it was his turn for the big breaths. "My love." He drawled out the endearment. "It's okay. You're okay. We will get through this. You will get through this. Can I hug you?"

You nodded before he grasped you tightly.

"I'm right here. And I will be with you every step. Every setback you have. You can fall back on me"

He stroked through your hair once again, holding you tight into his chest, "Thank you for telling me. Now, this will be something that comes up every once in a while, okay? I know it won't be a comfortable topic but check-ins are necessary. I need to know how you're doing, because," He paused just enough for dramatic flair, "Whatever would we do without our fearless leader!"

It had managed to calm your tears, if only a little. Just what he had hoped for. The smallest laugh that escaped your breath was music to his ears, even between the hics and gasps as you recovered your breath.

"I just want you to know that I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. The feeling comes and goes. And right now is just a time where I need to be around people more. I need more support. But I'll be okay. So if you'll still have me..?"

Ugh, Idiot! Why would you say that last bit. He would never-

"I would never leave you over this darling! What do you take me for? If anything, this is just an excuse for me to constantly drape my arms around you. Whisper into your ear..."

He stands up and struts behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, he whispers, "tell you how much I care. How much I love you." And you smiled. Hells, you let out a laugh.

"See aren't I just amazing? Can make your mood with just a few words. I love you." He smirked, letting out the last bit of tense breath against your neck as he set his head on your shoulder. "I love you," he whispered again.

"I love you too, Astarion"

That day, he didn't let you go once. He stayed right by your side. You went out of your tent for dinner, and found that while you napped, Astarion told Gale to make your favorite. You don't often get nights of calm, but despite the rocky start, today was good.

Things were said, and things were learned, but everything would be okay.

You will be okay.

Author's Note: Please, once again, if you struggle with self harm or suicidal thoughts, reach out to someone. Things do get better, I promise you. There are many help lines and local resources, a quick search on Google will pull them all up.

If there is a way I can better phrase the trigger warning, please let me know. No one had any suggestions on my last one, so I'm going to assume that it was okay.

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 17

Request: Yes or No

Summary: (Y/N) and Harald only continue to make things more complicated for themselves. After returning to Constantinople, (Y/N) is forced to say goodbye to his brother for the first time.

CW/TW: Mention of the deaths of innocents, situationships situationshipping, suggestive content, normal relationship? don't know her, implied homophobia, religion bashing + the violent love of Christianity, healthy sibling relationships rise up

~~~

Silence hung over them like a heavy cloud, the words they wished to speak dying in their throats in favor of staying quiet and letting the moment pass. Tiring and infuriating, it was, but winning a death match against an experienced ruler was quite the feat. (Y/N)'s brief flash of anger had disappeared the moment the fight began, leaving him simply with familiar numbness and exhaustion, his attention focused on cleaning the cut Harald had sustained on his arm instead of picking up their argument again. 

Harald winced and withheld the urge to flinch each time the needle entered his skin, his gaze flickering between watching the cut be sown and studying (Y/N)'s face. Years of patching up injuries had turned him into a swift healer, his hands nimble and gentle as they finished sewing his cut. His bloodied fingers picked up the rag floating in the basin beside them and carefully dabbed it along his skin, cleaning any blood that'd seeped out before taking the bandages offered to him by one of the servants.

"Thank you." (Y/N) murmured, tearing his eyes away from the injury and toward the tent's entrance when Emperor Romanos stepped inside, freshly changed into his armor and ready for the journey back home to the heart of his empire. He raised his hand to stop them both from standing, giving (Y/N) a small nod to continue working before he looked back at Harald and offered him a wide smile. 

"I'm glad to see you're recovering." He said, striding closer to them and raising a hand to touch Harald's shoulder. "Harald, I am under no illusion that your heart is still in the North. That you fought for the Empire on my behalf... will not be forgotten."

"I was honored by your trust in me," Harald responded, and (Y/N) resisted the urge to sigh. He wrapped the cut quickly yet carefully before tying a knot to ensure the bandages would slip and risk the injury growing infected. He stepped back, drawing the eyes of both men who watched him as he cleaned his hands, his head bowed and disinterest in their conversation evident. 

"A deserved trust." The Emperor said, a hint of amusement and knowing lacing his voice. He squeezed Harald's shoulder with a quiet chuckle and left the tent to mount his readied horse. They'd be allowed two to three days to recover from battle and gather supplies and treasures from the castle before following him to Constantinople. 

"If you feel as if your injury is worsening," (Y/N) cleared his throat to catch Harald's attention. "Speak with a healer." He told him bluntly and slipped past him, leaving the tent and walking past the Emperor and General Maniakes whilst they spoke of what was to be done. He caught the General's eye, noticing the slight curl of his lip and rolling his eyes once Maniakes couldn't see his face.

The camp seemed to bustle with more life, most having already entered the castle to take whatever they could find. Leif had likely been among them, for he'd been eager to arrive after learning of a library holding ancient texts and books. (Y/N) would hardly find himself surprised if the next time he saw his brother he had a sack full of books and maps to be placed in his already cluttered home. He had little interest in the treasures and knowledge; Leif had already taught him more than enough and he hardly needed treasure to live happily. Greenlanders lived through trade, rarely ever finding themselves in need of coin. 

Slipping into his tent, (Y/N) crouched down by his luggage full of clothes and sorted through it until he found a clean shirt to wear for the rest of the day. It'd likely grow dirtied and grimy by the time night fell but he preferred walking around with a clean shirt over a bloodied one. He reached back and slipped off the shirt, tossing it aside and standing back up with the new one in hand. He stuck his arms and head through the holes and let it slip over his body, his ears catching the rustling of the tent flaps and footsteps entering. 

"We should talk." 

"Then talk, Harald." (Y/N) sighed and turned to face him, his arms folding over his stomach and brow arching for him to speak. Harald's lips pursed, glancing over his shoulder and stepping fully into the tent toward him once certain nobody would be interrupting them. (Y/N) straightened up when he drew closer and Harald stopped, a deep frown spreading on his face. 

"How much longer are you going to do this, (Y/N)? Three years ago you claimed it would be for the best if we were no longer lovers and I told you I'd prove myself to be capable of everything you wished for. I have showered you with my treasures, I ensure you have everything you can desire, I stand by while you bring others to your bed. I am a General for the Empire and with all the riches I've sent my uncle, I know I am more than wealthy. What else must I do?" Harald's hardened voice softened, his steps slow as he approached, almost as if dealing with an animal that could lash out at any moment. 

"I never asked for any of that." (Y/N) reminded him softly, and allowed him closer with little complaint. Harald's hands found their way onto his hips, squeezing lightly and pulling him closer to him. (Y/N) turned his head away to avoid looking into Harald's soft eyes, for he knew it'd make it harder to keep to his wits if he dared look at his face.

"It is torture, (Y/N). You reject my advances yet accept the advances of others. You allow me to sleep in your bed some nights but refuse to other nights. I will not be able to take this for much longer. I... I don't know how you feel about me anymore." His hand rose to gently grab his face, turning his head so he'd be forced to look him in the eyes. (Y/N) pressed his lips tightly together and looked at the storm of emotions in his eyes, similar emotions he felt swirling in his gut. "I love you, (Y/N). I've loved you since the moment I witnessed your abilities and the care you have for those close to you. You have fascinated me for years, ever since the day I first laid eyes on you on that boat in Kattegat. I need you. My heart, my mind, my soul, my blood, it all longs for you."

"I want to believe you, Harald, but each time I allow myself to trust you.. you only do what you desire. I am simply living my life, and it seems that I suffer the least when you are not consuming me. I have my own home, my own things, I have new friends and- and yes, I have lovers but it is only because I am no longer waiting for you to change. I care for them.. and I know that if I were to ask, at least one of them would be willing to do what you refuse to. I'm happy, Harald."

The dreaded silence returned, leaving them to stare into each other's eyes. Harald leaned forward to press their foreheads together, his calloused thumb running back and forth over his cheek and his nose gently bumping against (Y/N)'s. He inhaled heavily. "We were happy once, back in Kattegat... in the cabin. We fight most when we live apart, (Y/N)... when we refuse to speak our minds. We were supposed to spend our time in Constantinople together. I want us to be happy again, together. We can go back to those times, back to what we once were. Allow me back in, (Y/N), and we can be happy together, I swear it."

"Harald..." (Y/N) exhaled, his arms unfolding and allowing Harald to press their chests firmly together. His fingers ran through the soft curls along the back of his head, his other hand resting on the prince's shoulder and lightly squeezing him. He felt the familiar feeling of Harald's breath dancing along his skin, a familiar desire bubbling in the pit of his stomach that he often tried pushing away. Harald's hands slipped down to grasp his hips again, squeezing once more and tugging him as close as possible. 

His fingers curved around the bottom of (Y/N)'s shirt and slipped under, dragging along his back and dancing over old scars until his palm pressed flat against him and he closed the distance. His lips pressed against (Y/N) and sent a shot of familiarity and longing down his spine that made (Y/N) push on Harald's head to be as close as possible. Harald's touch roamed under his shirt until he leaned down slightly to scoop his thighs in his hands and heave him up, a startled and muffled laugh leaving (Y/N). His parted lips allowed for Harald's tongue to dart between them and get him reacquainted with every inch of him as Harald's hefty legs led them toward (Y/N)'s bed. 

Harald plopped back on the bed, settling (Y/N) on his lap and bunching up his shirt in his hands. (Y/N) drew back for air and tilted his head back, shivering when Harald ghosted his lips over his throat until he found the spot he knew made (Y/N)'s breath hitch and lightly sunk his teeth into it. (Y/N) released a strangled groan and curled his fingers in Harald's hair, his arm sliding around his shoulders and lips leaving scattered kisses along the top of his head. 

Right as Harald went to lift (Y/N)'s shirt, the ground abruptly trembled with the sound of a distant explosion that made them both go still. The camp around them came to life with panicked and confused shouts, quiet panting escaping the two as they waited for more noise but nothing came. (Y/N) swallowed, his brows dipping into a furrow and hands pushing Harald's shoulders back.

"Seems like the Gods have spoken," He muttered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and scrambling off Harald's lap before he could stand and knock him over. (Y/N) adjusted his shirt, tucking it into his pants before tossing apart the flaps of the tent and turning to look toward the fortress where a dark cloud of smoke rose from within the walls. His head snapped to look around him, searching those standing around for any sign of General Maniakes. The man was nowhere in sight. 

"Get us our horses!" Harald shouted toward the nearest Varangian, his eyes locked on the smoke rapidly rising toward the clouds above and waiting for any signs of other explosions. (Y/N) swore he could pick up the faint sound of screaming and wailing in the distance but nobody ran from the fortress in fear.

The Varangian solider sped off further into camp and returned with their two horses, handing them the reins and staggering back as the two climbed onto their respective mounts. The horses galloped forward the fortress at their commands, dodging past those standing around camp and heading up the trail toward the open gates. They skidded to a stop inside where the two spotted Leif being held back by General Maniake's men, a furious sneer on his face.

"How could you do this?!" Leif demanded with a shout, struggling against the soldiers surrounding him and holding him with the ferocity of a Viking. "Women and children!" 

"Our enemy." The lack of remorse or even sympathy in General Maniakes' voice sent a chill down (Y/N)'s spine, only pure venom dripping from the tongue of the man who'd been all too eager to go forth with a religious war. (Y/N) noticed the catapults nearby, the residue of sulfur littered around them, and with barely contained horror, his eyes dragged over to the section of the fortress that'd been gated shut, the sickly smell of burning flesh mixing with the stench of the sulfur.

"The Emperor gave his word!" Harald bristled, his knuckles turning white from the grip he held on the reins as he came to the same startling and horrifying realization. Maniakes looked at him over his shoulder, his lips curled up into a twisted sadistic smirk. (Y/N) had only ever seen the General show little emotion, his eyes almost always holding anger or malice.

"To a dead man." He turned to face them. "Saracens are like vermin. If you do not destroy them, they will multiply and spread, and soon wipe out Christianity. I did what the Emperor could not."

"You murdered them!" Leif spat viciously.

"No, Leif Eriksson," General Maniakes smirk only widened as he faced Leif and walked up to him, raising his sulfur-covered fingers up to his face. Leif swallowed thickly. "You did. It was your science that was the weapon. Your imagination did this. I... was just the messenger." 

With that, General Maniakes stepped away, stalking off with his soldiers right at his heels. The anger in Leif's body vanished, his shoulders slumping and chest heaving as a look of resignation, defeat, and realization passed over his face at once. The light that'd been in his body for so many years had been swiftly extinguished with just a few words. (Y/N) could only watch hopelessly. 

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

The streets of Constantinople had been filled to the brim with residents and travelers welcoming back the armies and congratulating them on their success with cheers, whistles, claps, and music. They stood at the sidelines as the two Generals led their armies through the street with their heads held high with pride. They'd both been given new armor with a lion as the crest; the beginning of their rewards for succeeding in Sicily. (Y/N) followed behind Harald's horse, surrounded by his friends and brother in the march to meet the Emperor and Empress who eagerly awaited their arrival. 

(Y/N) snorted when a woman broke away from the crowd to race up to Batu, her hands grasping the sides of his face and mushing their lips together for a messy kiss. Dorn immediately scowled and tore the woman away from him, shoving her roughly back into the crowd before throwing a half-hearted punch at the bewildered Batu's arm. Kaysan cackled and held a hand to his stomach, staggering forward to clap Batu's shoulder and tease them.

"Keep going," Leif said into his ear, patting his shoulder before he stepped out of the march and into the crowd near an alleyway. (Y/N) slowed down his pace and frowned at the sight of his brother disappearing through the crowd, his heartstrings tugging violently but his feet continuing to walk forward. Leif needed his space, he wouldn't rid him of that. 

The armies eventually broke off into two sections once they reached the outer yard of the palace, one side for General Maniake's men and another for General Harald's men. The two generals stepped onto a wooden podium decorated with vines and flowers, the chaos and music around them dying down so the priest who stood on the balcony overlooking them could speak. 

"Pantodýnama Kyverníti, órise aftoús tous stratiótes stous Agíous Sou Angélous, fýlaxé tous me ti dýnamí Sou kai krátisé tous ypó tin prostasía Sou. Amen!" Almighty Ruler, assign these soldiers to Your Holy Angels, guard them with Your strength, and keep them under Your protection. Even if living in Constaniople hadn't been his first choice, he'd been able to learn a new language with the help of Leif. Those in the crowd who practiced the faith bowed their heads and made a cross with their fingers before erupting into cheers at the sight of Emperor Romanos. 

Raising his hand, he waited for the cheering to cease before speaking, "Today, we welcome back our beloved army.. and celebrate their overwhelming victory in Sicily! The victory of your sons, sons of the mightiest people in the world, the people of Constantinople; an Empire that stretches from the Alps to Asia!" He raised his arms and the crowd cheered, a wide smile on his face. "And now, I present my wife, the Empress Zoe."

Over the past seven years, (Y/N) had watched her transform from Lady Eleana to Empress Zoe of Constantinople. She'd seemingly fallen into the role of the empress with little trouble, managing to exude an aura of grace and regalness as she strode up to take her place beside her husband. She smiled, looking between her two loyal Generals. Married life suited her well, and the Emperor always seemed to regard her with much respect and love. Yet still, her eyes glided over to him and then jumped back to the two men.

"Georgios Maniakes.. and Harald Sigurdsson, you are true sons of Constantinople, and we are in your debt. As a reward for your triumphant actions in Sicily, we bestow upon you the title, Spatharokandidatos, the highest honor of an Imperial Warrior, a status signified by your new armor. Behold your heroes!" At her words, the cheering resumed and the two turned around to face their armies and show off the new armor, and their new status. 

As expected, within the palace was a feast and more celebrations for the army and especially for those close to the Generals. Music played throughout the halls and many danced, cheering and celebrating another win. (Y/N) merely watched as he grazed on the food available, snacking on the various fruits and taking small sips of the wine being offered around. Batu, Dorn, and Kaysan chatted amongst themselves, laughing and exchanging antidotes. (Y/N) listened, chuckling or nodding along until a hand delicately, and briefly, touched his arm. 

"Empress," The three ceased their chatter yet still held wide smiles as they bowed their heads. (Y/N) finished his wine and set it aside before turning around to face Empress Zoe and dipping his head as well. Her smile widened, shifting away from polite to genuine as her eyes softened. Rare were the times they could all be together and chat as they once did. 

"It is good to see you all." She admitted softly, glancing around in search of the missing men before she looked at (Y/N) with furrowed brows. "Where is Leif?"

"He was tired when we arrived. I assume he's gone home to rest for the day."

"Ah, well, tell him I miss him, and I am glad he still plots his own course instead of doing what others want." Empress Zoe told him, a gentle chuckle escaping her. Her light blue eyes studied his features, her earrings swaying with the movements of her crowned head. The others exchanged glances and dipped their heads again, slipping away to leave them be with quiet chuckles and whispers. "I am glad to see you, (Y/N). It has been much time since we last spoke. I don't believe I ever thanked you for looking out for me on our voyage here. It seems like so long ago, but I remember the good times we all had." 

"Yes, the others often speak of those times." (Y/N) smiled, lightly clearing his throat and glancing over his shoulder at his friends. He hardly wished to be left alone with Empress Zoe, especially with the Emperor's keen eye watching them from his throne. He licked his lips and looked back at her, gazing over the long, beautiful gown she wore. It was a shimmery dark blue with golden designs in the shapes of features along her chest, shoulders, and neck that were similar to the crown on her head. "Marriage and ruling becomes you, Zoe."

"Thank you." She smiled bashfully, her fingers lacing together and her eyes glittering with joy. "I do regret not being able to see you on the battlefield anymore, it's always been where you shine best. Though, if you perhaps would prefer staying home, I could always speak with my husband on finding a different job for you." 

"Oh, I-"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take away one of my finest warriors, Empress. I often require his advice on many things." Harald's voice cut in, light and teasing but with an undertone only (Y/N) seemed to pick up. Jealously, as it seemed, appeared to be an emotion Harald had become aquantainted with. He stopped at his side and took a swing of the wine in hand, his eyes holding Empress Zoe's gaze as he set his cup aside.

"Spatharokandidatos," She greeted, her head slightly tilting to the side. "I must know, with all your victories, do you still wish to return to Norway and be king?" 

"My desires have never wavered, Empress. I still believe it is my destiny, even if others do not." Harald's gaze slid over to (Y/N), his words bringing a deadpan look to (Y/N)'s face. He rolled his eyes and picked up another cup of wine from one of the passing trays, squinting at the grin that spread on Harald's lips. "Though, I believe some destinies can change over time and with certain circumstances."

"I see." Empress Zoe hummed and stepped back, her gown sliding along the floor with each stride she took until she slipped out of view. (Y/N) swallowed down a gulp of wine that burned his throat, his lips no doubt stained from the drinks he'd had throughout the celebration, and he turned to look at Harald only to notice some palace guards approaching.

"Spatharokandidatos, you must come with us." One of them ordered, and (Y/N) heart sank when Harald furrowed his brows in confusion. He gave a curt nod and glanced at (Y/N) and the others before being escorted out of the room. (Y/N) stared after him, his fingers anxiously digging and rubbing into the designs on his cup.

Unable to provide the others with answers and finding little to distract himself with, (Y/N) excused himself and left the palace, making his way out into the bright, bustling streets of Constantinople. He reached to his shoulders and unclipped the blue cape from his armor to avoid drawing attention from others as he walked through the streets, entering through alleyways and stepping up countless staircases until he reached the street his home resided on. 

(Y/N) pushed the gate open and walked down the pathway until he spotted the stone house perched on a hill overlooking the glimmering ocean; though it was hardly anything in comparison to Leif's home and Harald's estate. He immediately felt at peace away from the noise and hustle of city life, stepping through the wooden doors and finding his belongings sitting on the floor. Ridding himself of the cape and armor and changing into more comfortable clothing, he began putting everything away back where it belonged with the scent of the salty ocean breeze flowing in and clinging to his skin once more. 

With his home taken care of, he decided to check on his brother and took the stone trail leading to Mariam's old place. The subtle smell of smoke and fire filled his nose as he ascended the stairs, taking note of the lit fire pit bowl and the contents slowly burning inside. He moved closer and reached in, pinching and pulling out a piece of paper before the flames could lick at his hand. He gently blew on it and brought it close to his face, faintly making out words written in Arabic. 

"I have no use for these any longer." The exhaustion in Leif's voice made him wince and he watched with a frown as Leif tossed in scrolls, journals, and papers, the fire eagerly eating and burning them. "This knowledge, the writings... it all led to the destruction of innocents." 

"Leif, everything can be destructive if wielded by the wrong person. Weapons, knowledge, kingdoms... Maniake's actions are not on you. You cannot let him get into your mind. He is merely another Jarl Kåre eager to hurt what you believe in." (Y/N) crumbled the paper in his hands and followed his brother into the home that so comfortingly felt like a living part of Mariam. "Do you truly believe he wouldn't have hurt those people? He wanted this, Leif. It was all part of his religious war on those opposed to Christianity."

"And if I had been more careful with my things, then perhaps he wouldn't have taken notice and used it against me," Leif responded, sharply turning to face his brother and grabbing his shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving him. "Seeing those innocents die... seeing them burn alive made me think of all we've done. The places we've conquered that did not surrender easily, the people we've slaughtered fighting other men's wars... for what? The first war we fought was for Freydis, and then what of the others? For glory? For rewards? Blood needlessly spilled... I cannot bear it." 

(Y/N) stared at him, his brows slowly lowering and his frown only growing. "You're leaving... aren't you?" His voice sounded soft, like that of a child's and he swallowed harshly, his heart squeezing. Leif's shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands from (Y/N)'s shoulders, his lips pressing together as he gave a small nod of confirmation. "Oh." He breathed shakily. 

"I know it is not what you wish to hear, (Y/N), and I won't ask you to follow me again. You have made a home here in Constantinople and I cannot ask you to abandon it for me. I have... found that knowledge, even when I wished to use it for good, only seems to destroy things. In my thirst for knowledge, I hardly stopped to think of the people who lost their homes because of us. I don't want to bloody my hands any further." 

Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he forced out a hum, nodding slowly. "Where- Where will you go? If you are returning to Greenland-" 

"No, no, not Greenland." Leif shook his head and stepped aside, retrieving his satchel from the floor and dumping the contents inside over the table. He sorted through them until he found a rolled-up paper, spreading it out against the table. (Y/N) shifted closer and peered down at it, blinking dumbfoundedly at what he assumed to be a drawing. Largely made of blue with white lines and two muted yellow shapes on opposite sides. "I found this in the library in the Book of the Unknown. Nobody knows what it is supposed to be or who made it, only that its origins trace back to Corfu. I suspect that this-" He pointed to one of the shapes. "-is Greenland, and this land across is the Golden Land." 

"The Golden Land? The land you believed you saw on that fishing trip? The one with the tall trees just over the horizon? Father said it was nothing, Leif." 

"I know, I know, but if I can ask the creator of this map why he drew this or where this land is located, I could find it once more. It is why I plan on traveling to Corfu and asking the people there for their local mapmaker. He may know what this is or point me in the direction of who made it." Leif explained, rolling the paper back up and offering him a sad smile as he cupped his cheek. "I know it will be hard. I cannot imagine sailing without you, (Y/N), but sooner or later we would've had to part ways. I swear on the memory of Mariam and Liv, I will come back once I find my answers. Then, if this Golden Land really exists, we can go to Jomsborg and tell Freydis about it."

"I don't think I can manage without you, Leif." (Y/N) admitted softly, shakily. "I've always gone everywhere with you. I've always been your shoulder, your partner, your right hand. What if something happens? What if I need you and you're not here? Parting ways with Freydis and not knowing how she's been doing is hard enough but-"

"You will manage, (Y/N). You're stronger than you think. You've survived the cruelty of man and nature and still hold little hate in your heart. I know things have been hard between you and Harald, and I am hardly the right person to ask when it comes to love... but you can rely on him, if not as a lover then as a friend. Kaysan, Batu, Dorn... they need you and you need them. You'll take care of each other, I know you will." Leif assured him gently, leaning forward to press a fleeting kiss to his forehead. "You made a promise to your prince, and you've never been one to break a promise. If I do not come back in time and I hear of a new king being crowned in Norway, I'll know where to find you."

(Y/N) felt like a child again as the hot tears spilled over his cheeks and trickled off his chin, memories of his younger self weeping when Leif and the older boys went on fishing trips with the adults resurfacing. Simpler times then, when the only thing he cried over were his brother leaving or his father going on one of his angry tangents. He threw his arms around Leif and buried his face in his shoulder, his body lightly trembling with sobs. 

"(Y/N)," Leif exhaled, a slight tremor in his voice that he swallowed down, his arms wrapping tightly around him in return. He caressed the back of (Y/N)'s head as he ran soothing circles along his back, a strained chuckle escaping him. "You know we'll always find each other. You, Freydis, and I... in this life and the next, and all the lives that follow, we'll always find each other. Remember that, Brother. Remember where you came from and- and who you are... remember who your family is. We are Vikings, no matter where we go."

"I know," (Y/N) sighed, sniffling as he drew back. He wiped at his wet cheeks, brushing away the tears and letting a small smile grace his features. Leif returned it, his eyes gleaming with tears that he managed to hold back. "I love you, Leif."

"And I'll always love you too, (Y/N)."

[cherlockgomes]

Uncle Rick: Beloved Children's Author Turned Capitalist Sellout

TW: Controversial opinion.

Discussing the show and the new Percy Jackson novel.

Welcome to my rant about the way the PJO universe is going. First of all- the show. Yes, a lot of people (not excluding me) were upset about the casting. I loved the picture I had in my head of Annabeth and Percy, Luke and Grover, etc. However, the arguments made on behalf of the casting- how they look isn't crucial to their story like how Hazel's might be, and how Rick Riordan assured us they were perfect for their roles because they fully embody them, made sense. I realized I was still wrapped up in the 5th-grade mindset that was clinging to the concept of a character that had nothing to do with their essence. Thus, I was convinced to approach the show with an open mind.

After watching all the interviews leading up to the show, I was convinced. These three fully embodied their characters. I could see Percy in Walker's sarcastic wit, Annabeth in Leah's demeanour, and Grover in Aryan's chemistry. My inner child was excited for a book to screen redemption of one of my favourite series.

It had the premise for a great show—a good cast, the author working closely, and what seemed to be a good set design. How miserably it failed. It was so...soulless. There's no other way to put it. It lacked depth and the magic that made the books so special. They rushed through the scenes, not giving the actors enough time to shine. I'd describe it as spreading their light too thin, making everything flat and one-dimensional.

Take the scene where Percy gets claimed, for example. In the books, it was this paramount moment where the entire camp, including people like Clarrise, were forced to bow down to him- showcasing how powerful he was. Even a person like Annabeth, who was supposed to hate any of Poseidon's descendants because of their parental fued had to bow, showing how the Olympian hierarchy forced you to show your respect. It was the moment Luke saw Percy's potential.

Now, in the show, this moment seemed to be brushed past. Yes, it was there, but as I mentioned, it lacked depth. Walker looked tiny when he was meant to tower over them.

This brings me to my other point. Recently, Riordan released a book called Percy Jackson and The Chalice of Gods. It was meant to show Percy, Annabeth and Grover as college students and their lives after the battle. But, like the show, it lacked that magic. Moreover, it felt like the characters were merely half-baked. Yes, their original characteristics were there, but it felt like they hadn't grown. They were meant to be in college, but it felt like they were just entering high school. Certain places felt redundant and average.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed by the show. What was meant to be a redemption felt like a broken promise. Conversely, the book felt like a cash grab playing on our nostalgia, disguised by a fun quest with the original three. It's only a step up from what Disney accomplishes with their live-action remakes. Not to mention, it feels very JK Rowling-coded.

Not cool.