#unrequited OR requited

[iamumbra195]

Hernandez twins Full Metal Alchemist AU where the twins try to revive their dad because their mom is so destroyed by grief that she barely even feels like their mom anymore, only to lose so much more in the process.

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

listennn im not saying we should make the boatman song about ying'er

BUT WE SHOULD DEFINITeLY MAKE THE SONG ABOUT YING'ER LIKE

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Together

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> The team knows something is up between yourself and Hotch, except Rossi seems to be the only one to put the pieces together.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of sick. Fluff. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The whole team knew something was up. They just didn’t know what. 

Usually, you were normal with everyone. Chatty. Smiley. Professional. Maybe a little blunt every now and again. 

But not this time. 

For the last week you had been…cold. Well, not with them, at least. 

But with Hotch? You had been as cold as ice. 

But no-one could pin why. 

Even if it had just been small things, like the feeling in the meeting room in the morning when it just seemed to be the two of you, or the small looks you both gave each other – which had started out as awkward, but then quickly turned to shame and clear annoyance, the latter being much more clear on your end. It was definitely clear now. 

From the beginning of the case, you had been quick to change subjects. Always staying on the case, which was normal. But not your abruptness to do so. And when Hotch tried to pull you aside as the others made their way to the main doors, you brushed him off. 

Hotch was someone you never brushed off. Not until recently. 

And when you all landed in Seattle, Hotch was assigning teams for who was driving. But before he could place you with himself, JJ and Morgan, you pushed past him. 

“I’m going with Rossi.”

And Hotch didn’t say a word. 

Instead, he watched you walk away with your go bag, throwing it into the trunk with Dave. He gave his orders to Prentiss on what would happen and she updated you in the car. 

However, forty five minutes into a ninety minute drive, Emily’s voice started to make you feel dizzy. Then the heat in the car felt like it was blasting. So you rolled down the window. But that didn’t help. 

“Garcia said she’s already sent over some case files- Hey, you okay?”

From the backseat, Emily leaned forward to get a better look at you. 

“I’m fine.”

But five minutes later, you changed your mind. 

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Okay, okay. Just hold on.”

The car had barely been put into park by the time you threw the door open, tore your seatbelt away and ran out. 

Less than ten feet from the open car door, the last three drinks and meal you ate came straight back up and soaked into the dry grass. 

You heard a second car pull up behind and then heard Morgan and Hotch’s voice. Dave had already reached you, placing a hand on your back before pulling your hair back. 

“Okay, take it easy. Are you okay?”

You could only hum before throwing up once more. He rubbed circles on your back for a moment before you finally finished throwing up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Is she okay? Y/n, are you-”

“I’m fine!” You called out, a little harsher than you had intended. 

Holding out a hand, Rossi signalled for Hotch to stop and stay where he was with the others. 

“She’s okay, she just needs a minute. Emily, do we have water in the car?”

“Yep, here.”

Making her way over, Emily poured some water onto a tissue before handing it to you. You wiped down your mouth and your hand before being handed the bottle by Dave. 

“Small sips, okay? Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, your back still to the rest of the team. “I just need a minute.”

“Aaron, we’ll meet you there.”

It took him a minute before he moved back to the car, but Hotch eventually nodded, calling out they’d see them at the precinct. 

“Do you know what it could be?” Emily asked. 

“Probably just some bad sushi.”

Emily nodded before getting back into the car. 

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Rossi asked once she was out of earshot. 

And for a moment, you paused. 

“Let’s just get going.”

Things only seemed to get worse from there. 

You managed to hide it as best as you could from the rest of the team, but every hour you had spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom throwing your guts up. 

A couple of officers did question where you had been when they couldn’t find you but hadn’t seen you leave the building. One mention of Aunt Flow and they didn’t ask again. 

Your coldness with Hotch didn’t ease, either. It just seemed to become more frigid. And everyone saw it. 

By the third day in Seattle, Prentiss and Morgan had questioned you on it in the break room. 

“Yeah, what do you have against Hotch all of a sudden? What, one week away from us and you’ve suddenly made an agenda against him?”

“Because I love you, I’m going to ask this only once. Please don’t ask about Hotch.”

Morgan and Prentiss looked between each other, slightly worriedly, but both silently agreed to drop it. 

“But you will sort it out?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

A few hours later, you were coming back out of the bathroom when Rossi seemed to jump out at you. 

“Jeez. Rossi. Give a girl some warning next time.”

Dave smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Have we caught a break?”

“No, but I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About the fact you’re running to the bathroom every hour to throw up.”

“Like I said, it was probably just some bad food. I’ll be okay.”

Only, as you started walking away, Rossi asked you a question. 

“What happened between you and Hotch?”

“Nothing.” You answered, your back still to him. 

“Really? Because I wouldn’t call it nothing. I’d call it strange.”

“Rossi, I’ve asked Morgan and Prentiss-”

“I know, and I heard. But, to be frank, I think you’re lying and you’re too scared to tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

But rather than voice it, Rossi just gave you a look. It took you a moment before you cracked a little. 

“Rossi…”

“You don’t have to tell me how or what happened, but I’m asking, just find out the truth. You don’t have to tell anyone. But I think the sooner you do it, the better it will be.”

“We’re in the middle of a case.”

Rossi shrugged, “Morgan and JJ are on their way back. Reid’s got it handled here. We’ll pick up some coffee on the way back as a cover. Let’s just go now.”

You seemed to hesitate, and Rossi could see it. 

“Please, for my sanity's sake?”

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, you found a pharmacy and picked up a box. 

“Can you wait outside the door for me?”

“Of course.”

And he did. 

Once you paid for the box, the cashier directed you to a bathroom in the back. Except, long after the two minutes were up, you still hadn’t come out. So, Rossi knocked on the door. 

You swung it open and he jumped back a little. 

“I can’t look at it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to at some point.”

“I’ve wiped it down and it’s got a cap but…can you look? I’m too scared.”

Rossi could see the fear in your eyes. Oh, how two little lines could instil so much fear into people who dealt with crime every day. 

Handing the package to Rossi, he turned it around and pulled it out of the packet. 

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Turning it around so you could see, you took it back into your grasp as you pushed one hand through your hair. 

“Oh, my god.”

“I think you and Hotch need to have a conversation.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Rossi smiled, holding your hand which he could feel shaking. “You have my word.”

Somehow, back in the precinct, you managed to keep your cool. You’d brought back coffee for the team and, despite the fact you caught Hotch watching you from his seat, noticing your shaking hand, you pulled it back and found a spare pen from JJ’s notepad and spun it over and over in your fingers. 

Thankfully, due to the “food poisoning”, you had been kept out of the field when it came to finding the unsub. However, this just gave you a very large sense of dread. You watched them all run out of the door, Rossi placing a hand on your arm talking directly to you. 

“I’ll look out for him.” He told you before the others could hear him. 

“Thank you.”

Possibly carrying Hotch’s child made watching him and the team run out of the door, without you, made that sense of dread practically triple. Especially considering no-one other than Rossi knew the truth, or at least a part of it, about yourself and Aaron. 

Thankfully, no-one got hurt and the unsub was apprehended in time before he could hurt anyone else. They all came back with looks of relief and tiredness when you saw them, but there was a barely visible look of confusion and perhaps, hopefulness, on Hotch’s face when your scowl at him didn’t seem so cold. 

On the plane ride back, you were quiet. Everyone was, but there was just an air about you that told those paying attention to you that you were in your own world. 

Of course, Rossi knew why. 

But it was tearing at Hotch why he didn’t. 

Pulling back into the office, Penelope greeted you all by the elevator, hugging you all. And handing you some dry crackers and a bottle of water. 

“Thanks, Garcia.”

As everyone said their goodnights, you watched as Hotch walked directly through the bullpen and towards his office. 

“I think there are a couple of things you and he need to talk about.”

You nodded, with a light smile. “You’re right.”

Rossi kissed you cheek before saying goodnight and saluting you before the elevator doors closed. You did a small one back before turning your gaze back to the dim lights coming from Hotch’s office. 

However, first, you ran to the bathroom. 

Sitting at his desk, Hotch was halfway finished with the last of his reports when a knock came to his door. 

Looking up from his desk, there was a slight look on his face that told you he wasn’t expecting you. And you couldn’t be surprised. You’d barely been able to look him in the eye for the last month and a half, and you’d been nothing but cold and if a little harsh with him for the last couple of weeks. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?”

Hotch nodded. “Come on in.”

You nodded back, entering, but closing the door behind you. Which made Hotch stand. 

“Is everything-”

“I’m pregnant.”

A silence settled over the room that you were expecting, but still shocked you. And every possible emotion, some you couldn’t even name, passed over his face before he was forced to sit down. 

“Oh.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded, quickly signalling for you to do so. And so you did. 

“What did…How- When did you find out?”

“Sometime in the last twenty four hours.” You answered which confused Hotch, which you could understand. It was a vague explanation. “It’s all been kind of a blur.”

He nodded, understanding what you meant. 

“Does anyone…know?”

You nodded. “Rossi.”

“Dave knows?”

“He seemed to know before I did…kinda.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess I had a feeling when I got carsick, but denial carried me through.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No. Oh, and, um, I-I took another test to be sure. H-here.”

With a lot of nerves and a lot of awkward courage, you passed the second test across the desk to Hotch who took it in his hands and looked at it. 

Two bright pink lines. 

Positive test. 

“Just so I’m…clear. You are telling me because I’m…”

“The father?” you questioned. “Yes. There wasn’t anyone before or after you for it to be someone else.”

Hotch nodded. “Okay.”

You both sat in silence for a while, taking in what had just happened. 

“I, well, I haven’t been to see a doctor yet so I can’t know for certain but these tests are usually pretty accurate.”

Hotch could only nod. 

“You’re free to make any decision you wish,” Hotch assured you. “I’ll support you either way.”

You nodded in a small thank you. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. With our line of work, it gives you the handbook over why you shouldn’t have children. But, if I do decide to do this…I’m prepared to do this on my own. If I am going to do it, I’d prefer to have you in their life.” 

Your hand absentmindedly touched your stomach and you looked down to it for a moment. 

“But, I’m prepared to do it on my own.”

Hotch took in everything you said and nodded. “Like I said, I’ll support any decision you make but if you do decide to have our child…” 

Those two words settled over the both of you. 

Our Child. 

Our Child. 

Our Child.

“One thing you don’t have to worry about is doing it alone. I want to be a part of their life. And whatever support you need, I’ll try and help with.”

You nodded before looking back down to your stomach. 

Once again, a silence settled over the both of you and it was like he could hear your brain going into overload with information and feelings. But just as he was about to call your name, you looked up. 

Tears were being held tight behind your eyes, but a few words and they were ready to fall free. 

“I’m…I’m scared, Aaron.”

It didn’t take him a second thought before he stood up and met you where you were sitting. As he got around his desk, you stood and he embraced you tightly. 

He swallowed thickly, nodding and placing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’ll be okay.”

A week later, the team had taken notice of the change between yourself and Hotch. It was no longer cold, but it wasn’t what it was. It was something…uneasy. You had both clearly had a tough talk and were on rocky shores, but you were both finding a way to make it work. 

It was also a week later that you had made your decision. 

You were going to have a baby. 

A lot of different scenarios passed through your mind when you thought about what you were going to do. It would be hard, of course. It would be difficult to work the cases you do and not feel a little more emotionally involved. But you also couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a blessing in disguise. 

A part of you had wanted children for a long time, but the thought of actually having them was slipping further and further away the more you worked. 

And, despite you feeling selfish, you wanted a baby. You wanted to see a child, your child,  grow up and have a life of their own. You wanted to make the memories you had as a kid, but with them. 

You knew it would be difficult to do so when you joined the Academy, but part of you always wanted a home filled with the sound of laughter and joy. 

And maybe this was your only chance. 

And in all honesty, Aaron had similar feelings. 

It would be hard, sure. But he also wanted this in his life. He wanted a child. He wanted you in his life, however that would be. 

Of course, neither of you had seen this coming when you had run into each other at the Inn you had found. A halfway stop to your actual destination. Only, rather than continuing on your separate journeys for your week’s vacation time, you both found yourselves unable to leave the small town and the safe walls of the local Inn. 

It was that part of the story the team would forever speculate on once they found out you were pregnant and it was, in fact, Hotch’s baby. 

That was a piece of information they clued together themselves when Hotch called them in for an early meeting, but had confirmation on just a few moments later.

“So, what’s happening here?”

“Are you together?”

“We’re…still figuring that out.” Hotch answered, looking at you.

Neither of you had exactly had the conversation over what you were. Were you a couple? Were you friends? Were you co-workers? Were you just co-workers having a baby together?

HR weren’t exactly happy about the get-together but so long as the relationship wasn’t going to break any codes of conduct within the field, you were both still free to keep working. And more importantly, working together. 

However, over the next nine months, certain things seemed to blur. 

Aaron came with you to every doctor’s appointment, never missing one. When you had both first heard your baby’s heartbeat, you had clutched onto his hand and not let go. And when the sound got clearer, he pulled you a little closer, rubbing your arm and kissing your hand. 

It was a little odd, feeling the baby kick for the first time whilst being stood outside of a crime scene. 

Morgan had been with you at the time, quickly calling for Hotch when your posture and face changed from quizzical to concerned. Only, by the time Aaron had reached you both, you laughed and told them what was happening. 

Morgan then called JJ over as you guided Aaron’s hand to your stomach. And you both shared an intimate moment, just looking at one another, feeling your unborn baby kick at your stomach for the first time. 

JJ was able to confirm what was going on and both herself and Morgan congratulated you before you all remembered where you were and got back to work.

The cold glares you had given Hotch in the weeks leading up to you finding out had disappeared completely after the hug you shared in his office when you told him. And by the time you were entering your second trimester, they had turned into something similar to what they were before everything had changed. 

You had both become friends. 

He had also relaxed a little more around you, which allowed him space to take in what was actually happening. So, when your cravings started kicking in, he would hand you snacks throughout the days. You wouldn’t even know what you wanted at the time and he just…seemed to know. 

And at some point between him attending doctors appointments, helping you with your pregnancy cravings and reading to your belly, you had both begun to live together. 

It made sense, at least for the first couple of weeks after the birth and partly during the pregnancy. If you went into labour, it would be safer if someone was with you. And, it meant he was there when, in the middle of the night, you woke up with braxton hicks and panicked a little before getting checked out at the hospital, just in case. 

Also, small touches began. 

From you holding his hand against your stomach when your baby kicked, to his fingers tracing yours whilst they held that position. Then, in break rooms. They were quick, but light kisses would be pressed to your head or cheek whenever he handed you something. He was always close to you, barely leaving your side when in the field. His hand, always at the small of your back when leading you somewhere. And in the early hours of the morning, his arms would be across you as you both lay in bed, holding you close against his chest. 

Until, finally, one night whilst lay in bed, you asked a question. 

Both facing each other, despite your eyes being closed, Aaron traced repeated patterns from pushing your hair back to trailing his fingers down your arm to find your hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. 

Both of you should be fast asleep, yet you weren’t. 

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping.”

You laughed a little. “No we’re not.”

“I’m sleep talking.”

“Aaron, I’m being serious.”

With a small laugh, Aaron sighed. “Okay, what is it?”

He finally opened his eyes and so did you.

“What are we doing? About us, I mean. We’re having a baby together, but we’re not together together. We work together, but we also live together. What happens after the first couple of months? Do we…what do we do?”

“I suppose we just have to take each day as it comes and see what happens.”

“I can live with that.”

“Or…”

“Oh, no.” 

Aaron laughed a little and shook his head, bringing his hand back to your face and brushing the hair from it. 

“Or,” he repeated, “we treat this for what it really is.”

“I don’t…” you shook your head. 

“I know I don’t regret what happened that week away. Even more so now, but before…before we both found out. I still didn’t regret it. I don’t. We say we live together out of convenience, but I know, at least for me, it’s something more. Now, if for you it’s still out of convenience and bonding for our child, then we can have this conversation when the time comes. But, you should know my feelings for you run deeper than just you being my co-worker and the mother of our child. Do you…could you see yourself…feeling the same?”

The silence that came over both of you for a moment made Aaron worry. Maybe he had gotten it wrong in his head. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you were just caught up in the emotions of carrying his child and, since you were in it together, some form of feelings, similar to that of his, were getting blurry. 

But then you blinked. 

And a light smile graced across your face. 

“I do.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. But still, your words echoed louder and louder around his head. 

“You…you do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

Aaron took a moment, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was like your first, all over again. Except, this time, rather than a little fear being behind it, considering at the time you were both still co-workers just on vacation, there was nothing but…

Relief. 

More specifically, relief for love. 

For months you’d both been avoiding the biggest barrier between both of you. Too scared and too fearful that the answer to each question would be some variant of “No.” 

And now…

Finally the answer was yes. 

Yes to love. 

Together.

Yes to a life.

Together. 

Yes to a family. 

Together.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 71

The other witchers at Kaer Morhen have always grown tired of Geralt's random moodswings and bouts of gloom and grumpiness during the winter. He'd be happy and carefree, safe in his home, and then some dark thought would crest in his mind, and for a few days straight, he'd be in a horrible mood. When one year he brings his bard with him, they realize the moodswings have disappeared completely. That is, until Jaskier starts trying to "bond" with them all and spends less time with Geralt. Then all of a sudden the snarls and snaps from Geralt are back. One day, Lambert gets tired of Geralt's sass, and shoves Jaskier at him, and they're all amazed when Geralt loses his bad mood and instead chooses to carry his bard off to cuddle in front of the fireplace. Nuzzling him and purring the whole time. Thus commences a new rule of Kaer Morhen. If you spot Geralt being pissy, you chuck the bard at him. Jaskier has been taken away from a meal, a game of gwent, his chores, his bed while asleep, and one especially embarrassing time he was taken from a bath. Jaskier is quite alright with the new rule, as it always ends in deligthtful Geralt cuddles, but sometimes he wishes Geralt would just find Jaskier instead of moping when he misses him.

[the-boy-king-aesthetics]

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (6)- Standing Face To Face

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 6- 5k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 5

Having to live next door to the woman who haunted your thoughts for the last decade, who still had a piece of your heart despite everything that had happened, was the cruellest joke the universe could have played on you. It tore you apart a little each day when you’d leave the house and watch as she tried to ignore your longing and pleading gaze, the way she’d try to hurry the twins up to get into the car so she wouldn’t have to interact with you. It felt like she was… repulsed by you, by the feelings you stirred within her and it only pressed against the wound on your heart harder every time. It hurt, it hurt so fucking much and you weren’t sure how to untangle the mess of thoughts in your mind, how to start unravelling the whirlwind of emotions that flooded through you every day when she’d ignore and avoid you.

You couldn’t decide what broke your heart more, the fact that you had to push down everything once again for her and pretend that she was just the woman next door, that she didn’t mean anything to you because she shouldn’t. It brought back all those memories of bottling up your feelings, putting everyone else before yourself and having to experience the dull ache that settled in your chest with every forced smile, every lie you told to make her feel better as that’s all you ever cared about. You only ever cared about her.

The other thing that slowly twisted the knife lodged in your chest was the fact that she had finally gotten the life she always wanted, the life she desperately thought she needed, and she wasn’t happy with it. You knew Wanda, you had known her better than anyone else, you could read her body and understand exactly what was wrong with her with a simple look, and you knew that she wanted nothing more than something different from the life she had built with Vision.

You could only watch helplessly as she pushed herself through each and every day, watch as the two of them would argue constantly when the twins were away at their grandparents or uncle’s house, the way she’d be left with tears in her eyes and no one to comfort her. It broke you in a way you couldn’t imagine, the sight of her wiping her tears on the doorstep as he stormed past her, the many times it had happened and how it hung over her like a shadow. It was a dark presence that loomed over her joy, the corner of her never lifting as high as she’d want them to because of how trapped she felt.

You just wanted to make her smile again, but you didn’t want to interfere, clearly reading the signs that she was still confused and shocked by your arrival, likely still trying to wrap her head around the swarm of emotions that were dug up just like you were.

A deep sigh left you as your hands reached up to rub your temples, your mind unable to stop thinking about her, about the two of you, what the two of you were. You needed to stop driving yourself mad, to just stop thinking about those green eyes for once in your life. It was over, it had been for years and it forever would be. There was no point in torturing yourself by thinking about what the two of you could have been, the fact it could have been you two living with your family like the way you had always dreamed.

Another frustrated noise left you as you couldn’t stop your thoughts dragging you down a negative spiral, your body stilling in your hallways with Lucky’s lead in your hand as you took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you would inevitably see Wanda, knowing she’d likely be getting the twins in the car soon for school.

It took you a minute to gradually relax yourself, Lucky’s eyes staring up at you, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he waited a little impatiently, clearly excited to go for the walk when a knock at the door surprised you both, your heart fluttering in your chest briefly. Was it Wanda? You shook the thought away almost as soon as it came, a sudden nervousness crawling through you as you tentatively opened the door, a sigh mixed with relief and disappointment escaping you at the sight of a slightly older woman with a bowl of cookies in her hand.

“Good morning dear, you’ll have to forgive me for how long it’s taken for me to welcome you to the neighbourhood,” the woman said, her eyes raking up and down your body as you were in your workout gear, her smile lifting a little bit as mischief flashed in her eyes, her head tilting in an enticing manner. “My husband only told me yesterday that you had officially moved in,” she continued, her eyes eventually meeting yours, her gaze expressing how she was looking at you like fresh meat, her hand reaching forwards in greeting. “I’m Agatha, I live in the house across the street,” the older woman introduces, her tone cheery as you smile at her politely, shaking her hand whilst observing how her gaze eventually leaves your figure to Lucky, her smile faltering for a minute at the sight of a pet before returning to her joyful state.

“I’m Y/n, it’s lovely to meet you,” you reply kindly, taking the bowl from her with a soft smile whilst thanking her, her fingers lingering against yours, brushing against you purposely before she moves her hand, clearly trying to flirt with you. You brush off her actions, knowing you weren’t interested in her, only one woman present in your mind as the sound of two young boys and their tired mother caught your attention, your head turning immediately at the sound.

You missed how Agatha’s gaze remained focussed on you, watching curiously as the look in your eyes changed to longing as you stared off at Wanda trying to get the twins into the car for school, Tommy seeming to be grumpy as he trudged his way over to the vehicle, a small wave directed at you as he saw Lucky sat by your feet, his mood still sour though. You shyly waved back to the boy as you did every morning, Wanda’s head naturally turning to see who he was acknowledging, her body seeming to freeze momentarily at the sight of you and Agatha, her hand affectionately on your shoulder. A flash of something appeared on her expressive features, your brows furrowing slightly at the hurt you saw before it immediately faded away as she needed to get in the car, the twins running a little late for school.

Reluctantly, you tore your attention away from the other woman and back to Agatha, an intrigued glimmer evident in her eyes as she smiled at you, her hand still on your shoulder making you shuffle slightly, the older woman getting the hint.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I need to get going now,” you say, one of your hands rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly as your eyes flickered to the red car reversing out of the drive, catching Wanda’s green once more before refusing to look in that general direction again until she had gone, not needing any more confusion to cloud your mind.

“No worries dear,” her tone is still chirpy despite your rejection of her advances, “If you need anything I’m just across the road,” she reiterates, a small nod coming from you as you place the bowl of cookies on the side in the hall, making sure you had everything you needed for your walk as she continued, “I mean anything Y/n, don’t be shy to come over,” she adds before saying goodbye, the suggestiveness not missed in her voice as you just smile once more, trying to kindly get rid of her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you softly murmur, locking the front door after she had left you, another deep sigh escaping you as swarms of doubts and insecurities filled your mind, that hurt expression haunting you for your entire walk.

***

Throwing the tennis ball to the bottom of your garden, you chuckled at the way Lucky sprinted to chase after the ball, his body jumping slightly to catch the item as it bounced against the grass, a proud look on his face as he pranced back over to you, excited to continue playing. Your fingers gently threaded through his golden locks affectionately as he dropped the ball for you to throw again, his tongue hanging comically out of his mouth as he stared at the item in your hand as if it was the most important thing in the world, his brown eyes tracking every little movement of your hand as you went to throw it again.

Just as you were about to toss it, the sight of a football being kicked over the small fence caught both of your attentions as it rolled against your grass, Lucky running off to investigate the odd object whilst your head tilted to the side, chuckling at the sight of two sheepish boys looking over the fence. Billy’s face was plastered with embarrassment as he apologetically looked at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking over at the where the ball had landed, his gaze brightening at the sight of Lucky sitting next to it, the golden retriever having stolen both of their hearts. Tommy’s expression contrasted his brother's, the brief apologetic look on his face swiftly turning into excitement once he saw the dog, the brunette always elated to see Lucky and desperately wishing he could spend more time with him, his mouth moving without thinking.

“Can we come and play?” he asked instead of apologising for kicking the ball over or asking for it back, your brow raising at his reddened cheeks as he realised he should have said sorry first, Billy muttering something to himself at his brother’s actions. “Please?” He added sheepishly at the end, another amused chuckle escaping you before you considered his words.

You could tell that both of the boys were eager to spend time entertaining the bundle of fluff, the anticipation in their eyes as they waited for you to respond enough of a hint that they were wishing you would say yes. Personally, you didn’t mind if they wanted to come over and play, the two of them most definitely going to be able to match Lucky’s energy levels and tire him out, the issue was whether Wanda would be alright with it. You didn’t want to seem as though you were meddling in her business or with her family, but you were desperate to find an excuse to stand face to face with her and have a proper conversation, unable to keep ignoring or pushing away the feelings that resurfaced every time you saw her.

“Yes but only if your mother says it’s ok,” you answer, their smiles practically reaching their ears as they run off inside to find Wanda emphatically, your body moving to play with their football as you were waiting for them, Lucky rolling around in the grass by your feet. As you were doing kick ups, the sight of auburn hair caught your attention, your focus slipping causing you to miss the ball as it dropped to the floor, your heart pounding against your ribcage as Wanda stood by the fence, looking over at you with a confused look, her emotions masked as the twins stood next to her, bodies practically buzzing with excitement.

“Are you sure it’s alright if they come and play?” she asks, her voice staying composed and void of any emotion, your features conveying your disappointment as she avoids your gaze, simply looking over the work you had done in your garden instead.

“Yes, as long as you’re fine with it,” you softly murmur, your tone gentle and encouraging her to look at you, those enchanting eyes briefly flickering to yours and almost stealing your breath away, her cheeks tinting a subtle shade of pink as she averts her gaze, focussing on her children instead.

“Behave and have fun,” she mutters in a motherly tone, pressing a quick kiss to the both of their heads before they run off to go to your gate, Wanda’s eyes meeting yours one last time before she tries to turn away, the sight of her walking away from you, still trying to stay away from you, causing a flash of hurt to wash through you.

“Wanda, wait,” you rush out, walking as close to the fence as you could, hope bubbling in your chest at the way her body stills. Hesitation was evident on her face as she reluctantly turned to look at you, the emotions she was desperately trying to keep control of flooding through her as she didn't hide the hurt, confusion and longing in her eyes, your shoulders slumping slightly at her despondent form.

Wanda wanted to talk to you, she wanted to escape reality and savour spending time with you, knowing that you somehow seemed to make the world disappear and lift the corner of her lips no matter what, but she couldn’t. Every time she looked at you she was reminded how she made the wrong choice, how she had the life she was told to have and not the one she wanted. She was also reminded at how loveless her relationship was and how under-appreciated she was, how little she cared for Vision and their marriage as that hopeful look in your eyes stirred more in her than any look he’d offered her for years. You were looking at her with something more, something more genuine, and it always managed to stir something deep in her soul, making her crave your presence constantly. You looked at her as though she was the world, eyes filled with memories of love and joy but also agony and heartbreak, bringing up the events of that day and forcing reality back down on her. It was a meeting of changed souls, you weren’t the same person you were twelve years ago and neither was she. You were both forced to move on.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy at the moment,” she tries to excuse herself but you see straight through the lie, the wound on your heart tearing open as she meets your gaze apologetically.

“Please,” you whisper out, lacing your voice with desperation as you needed to talk to her, it tormented you not being able to speak to her, to keep everything bottled inside you, your emotions ready to burst. “Please, just five minutes whenever your free,” you plead, the tone of your voice and that same longing look in your eyes making her relive that heart-breaking moment with you, cracking her composure as she nods, gradually retreating at the sound of the twins entering your garden to distract you.

With a familiar ache settling in your heart, you stare at the back of her as she walks away from you, the twins running over with ecstatic grins on your face, forcing you to wipe off the anxious expression on your face and smile at them playfully, the corner of your lips not quite reaching as high as you wished they would, your mind consumed with the thought of their mother.

***

The next hour or so with the twins passed by much quicker than you expected, the constant laughter spilling from their lips eventually evoking a sense of happiness and delight from you at the amount of fun they were having with you. The three of you gave Lucky an endless amount of affection as you played a variety of games with him, competing with one another to see who could throw a tennis ball the furthest for him to fetch, running around your garden like lunatics whilst playing a version of tag as the bundle of joy liked to chase you all playfully until he became tired, deciding to sit for a little bit after having had a drink, the sound of his lapping amusing to the twins.

The small smile on your lips stretched wider at the way Billy collapsed on the ground next to Lucky, carefully leaning into his body and cuddling with the dog in an adorable manner as Tommy asked to play football with you, somehow still full of energy as he ran around chasing your ‘poor’ passes, unaware at how you were just trying to tire him out.

“I thought you said you were good at football,” Tommy teased whilst he panted for breath, his cheeks flushed red from the exercise as a small amount of sweat built on his forehead, your head shaking, a sign of your amusement as you flicked the ball up in a skilful manner, briefly showing off to the boy.

“I am good,” you chuckled back whilst you passed it straight to his feet, a look of realisation appearing on his face as he laughed, playing a rubbish pass back to you on purpose to make you sprint to catch it as a small act of revenge before he started to ask you to teach him some skills, wanting to be able to do more tricks to impress his friends.

Nodding to his request, you moved closer to him to show him the basics of how to start off doing kick ups more efficiently, your body crouched by his as you held the ball, showing him the motion you wanted it to travel in. You were patient with him as you demonstrated how he should do it with the best form, your smile never leaving your face as he attempted to reach his goal of ten without dropping the ball, his cheeks tinting a darker shade of red as he kept messing up.

“Hey,” you softly murmured as you could tell he was getting embarrassed and shy with how he kept failing, his gaze avoiding yours. “You’ve got this, just keep going, you’ve nearly got it,” you encouraged, trying to reassure him as you offered him a calm and tender smile, patting his back in a motivating way as he took a moment to compose himself before attempting it again.

Too busy watching how Tommy did, you missed how Wanda slowly walked out of her house to check up on the twins, wanting to let them know dinner would be ready soon and observe how you interacted with her children. A smile stretched across her face at the sheer joy on both of their faces as Tommy played with you and Billy with Lucky, the genuine sign of her happiness slowly fading as a lump clawed its way into her throat, her heart clenching painfully at the sight of what she could have had. She could have had a life filled with laughter and love, she could have had someone to call home, someone who would care for the family they’d created together and someone to enjoy life with but she didn’t. She wouldn’t let herself be loved by you, by a woman, so she threw it all away to please her family. Why couldn’t she just admit the truth? She didn’t want any of this, she wanted… No, she couldn’t say it.

She hated the emotions flooding through her, the regret and shame she felt whilst she continued to look at you and reminisce on your past together, your words ringing around in her head almost mockingly. ‘You can’t run away from…this forever’ tormented her thoughts, drowning her in despair as she didn’t want to run anymore, she didn’t want to be scared of what it meant but she just couldn’t accept the truth. It terrified her, she didn’t know how to tread through the uncertainty, insecurity and doubt filling her mind when she even tried to consider her true feelings. It felt like she was lost at sea and she knew whose hand she wished would pull her from the darkness and shame that surrounded her, but she knew that would never happen. It couldn’t happen.

A glimmer of defeat appeared in her eyes as she savoured the sight of the three of you, her heart skipping a beat when you turned your head and met her gaze, her lips attempting to pull up into a soft smile whilst your face morphed into concern, the boys missing the saddened look on their mothers face as they ran over to the fence, wanting their mother to join in on the fun.

“Mom, come and play with us!” they exclaimed enthusiastically, wanting to spend time with her whilst also staying with you, preferring to play with you than sit at home with their father who was too busy to pay them as much attention.

“I’m sorry Dorogie but dinner is ready,” she murmurs, her hand cupping Billy’s cheek as he stands near the fence, disappointment etched on both of their faces, the fact they had to leave you upsetting them a little bit. “You both need to come back now and wash your hands before food,” she continues, a weight pulling on her heart at the dispiritedness of her boys, her eyes cautiously flickering over to your inquisitive gaze, her eyes catching the tender smile on your lips, a little irritated at how much it soothed yet hurt her.

“But I don’t want to go yet,” Tommy mutters, looking at you hopefully, wanting you to help persuade his mother into letting them play longer.

“I’m sorry but your Mom is in charge here,” you say to the boys, not wanting to give them false hope as they begrudgingly start to move, Wanda offering you an appreciative gaze before speaking up,

“If it’s alright with Y/n, I’m sure you two will be able to go over again another time,” she softly says, their faces lighting up at the possibility of doing this again, their heads snapping around to look at you, further brightening at the way you nod in approval. “Now come on, dinner is nearly ready,” she says once more, her motherly tone seeping into her words as the twins swiftly say goodbye to you before spending more time saying goodbye to Lucky, your hand dramatically going to your heart as they run off laughing at your theatrics, a small smile present on Wanda’s face before you turn to her, a tension slowly building in the air as you are finally left alone.

Standing face to face with her after all these years was more daunting than you had imagined, a sudden lump forcing its way into your throat and preventing you from saying anything, your hesitant and uncertain eyes staring at her, seeming to get lost in her enchanting eyes whilst your chest tightened. You longingly gazed at every swirl of green you had memorised that day, your eyes slowly drifting from her green to her other features, truly admiring how much she had changed over the last twelve years. It was odd, looking at her after all this time and noticing how the world had affected her, the way her features had matured, the way her eyes held less hope and naivety in them, a hidden sense of brokenness clear for you and only you to see.

You were both a shadow of your former selves as you simply stared at one another, unsure of what to say as the silence spoke volumes, expressing how old wounds resurfaced for the both of you.

“Wanda…I-” you tried but you couldn’t find the words to describe how you were feeling, to explain to her the mess of thoughts in your head constantly tangling together, making it impossible to think clearly without thinking of her. You sighed in despair, your shoulders slumping slightly as your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her mesmerising green looking just as equally torn and confused as you both failed to find the words to help summarise the years of yearning that coursed through your veins.

“Why?” Is all she can muster out, her voice wavering as you notice her lips trembling slightly, the sight cracking your heart open even more as you see the pain clearly on her face. “Why did you have to come back?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as the words are forced out of her, raw with emotion as she feels tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, her trembling hands coming up to swiftly brush them away.

Her words unsettle something deep inside you, the way that they weren’t laced with anger or venom but heartache and confusion making you feel almost nauseous at how much this hurt you, how much facing your buried feelings tore you apart. It was agonising, realising for definite that she was only avoiding you because it physically hurt her heart to see you again after spending so long desperately trying to forget you, to bury that part of her that she was forever ashamed of.

“I… I had to leave England,” you eventually manage out after taking a deep breath, your mind finally thinking about something other than Wanda, part of you regretting that as the events of the last couple months came flooding back to you, only filling you with more pain and heartache. “It hurt too much to stay,” you whisper after a moment, your thumb subconsciously moving to your ring finger, expecting to twist a small band as it had become a nervous habit, the pad of your thumb simply brushing against bare skin though.

You tear your gaze away from her for a moment, brief memories of your life in the UK flashing through your mind as you remember her, remember how deeply you fell in love with her just for her to throw it all away, to slice open another part of your heart and leave you bleeding out in agony.

When you muster the courage to look at her again, you know she can see the tears threatening to spill, her brows furrowing as curiosity and concern overflow from her expressive green at your troubled state, a sigh escaping you as you owe her at least some explanation, even if you didn’t want to say what had truly happened.

“I was stupid enough to fall in love again,” you whisper, letting out a breathless laugh as you continue, “I thought maybe, just maybe, I could love someone the same way I loved…” Your words trail off as you realise you were about to say ‘you’ to Wanda, her eyes staring at you attentively as her heart pounds against her ribcage, waiting in anticipation at what you were about to say. “I could love someone again but it didn’t work out the way I thought it would,” you mutter out, letting her hear the bitterness in your voice before you take a deep breath, pushing away all the screaming thoughts in your mind. “I just needed to come home,” your voice is small as you look away from her, unsure whether the home you were referring to was Westview or Wanda, the woman standing opposite you somehow still a place of safety despite everything. Why couldn’t you just move on?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back after a moment, staring at her hands as you both struggle to hold the oddly intimate gaze, your lips pulling up into a soft, appreciative smile as you assume she’s referencing what you had recently gone through, missing the underlying regretful tone to her voice. Her eyes were trained on the gold wrapped around her finger, the words that fell from her lips meaning more than you could imagine as she subtly confessed her sorrow for what had happened between you two. She was sorry for everything, for giving into her desires and wanting you, for believing that she could hide the shameful part of her forever, for lying to you… She was sorry for letting you fall for her first, even more apologetic for falling for you harder but never wanting to admit it, knowing it just made things more complicated.

Letting your eyes drift back to her, you watch curiously at the way she stares at her wedding ring, her undecipherable gaze soon switching to exhaustion and annoyance at the sound of a male voice calling her name, interrupting your moment as her eyes flicker to you, trying to savour the last bit of comfort your presence provided.

“Wanda, can you come and serve dinner now?” Vision called from the patio door, his impatient mood evident in his voice as he asked for his wife’s services, the woman in front of you sighing despondently, knowing she had to go back to the life she told herself she needed.

“I have to go now,” she murmurs before offering you a small, forced smile, your body wanting to reach over the fence and grab her hand, to give her some sort of comfort but you stopped yourself, knowing you’d be crossing too many boundaries.

“Wait,” you say, halting her once more as she turns back to face you, clearly reluctant to go inside. “I know it’s not my place to say anything but I’m here for you Wanda,” your voice is tender and soft, wanting her to know that despite everything you still cared for her, earning an appreciative and gentle smile in return, the prominent ache in your chest lifting at the sight of it as she holds your gaze, losing herself in your caring eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers before turning around a final time, leaving you standing in your garden with a small, familiar warmth wrapping around your heart, the idea of slowly being able to mend your broken bond causing the corner of your lifts to tug up into a small, hopeful smile. 

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #92: Percy/Apollo, but make it The Trojan War

Into every fandom, a time travel fic must fall - or in this case a second one, because I somehow got to thinking about the delightful PJO trope of Percy being thrown back in time to The Trojan War and realized that doing so misses out on a fantastic opportunity.

Or: What if post-TOA Percy Jackson and Apollo time travel to shortly before The Trojan War?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon through TOA, with one exception: rather than struggle to catch up in the mortal world following the Second Gigantomachy, Percy elects to stay at Camp Half-Blood. There he can homeschool at his own place with programs tailored towards ADHD children and still visit his family on the weekends - and not get into any more ridiculous situations in the mortal world when one of the gods kidnaps him or sends him on a quest to find their sneakers.

This, naturally, stresses his relationship with Annabeth - who, now that she's no longer living at camp full time, calls it the easy way out. But Percy is tired and struggling in mortal high school where everyone thinks he's a delinquent idiot when another option exists seems foolish. Percy and Annabeth break up and drift apart.

Enter Apollo, fresh from his latest stint as a mortal. He's trying to do his best by his children, which includes popping by camp as often as he can get away with - which in turn means spending a lot of time with Percy, who at this point is unofficially running CHB because it's not like Dionysus or even Chiron have done a brilliant job of it in recent times.

(First aid, strategy, and mythology classes are made mandatory. Percy personally ensures every demigod knows enough about self-defense to be able to survive long enough to run away or for help to arrive. Bullying is cracked down on so hard that it's this, not Percy's generally parental nature, that has people calling him Camp Mom.)

Percy and Apollo become friendly. Enough so that some of Apollo's kids assume they're dating and keeping it on the down-low so as not to draw Zeus' ire. Or Poseidon's. Or anyone else's. It's on one of their not-dates that they're yeeted into the past, without warning or explanation.

And so 19-year-old Percy Jackson and post-TOA Apollo find themselves in Ancient Greece c. 1220 BCE, roughly thirty-five years before the destruction of Troy.

The time travel is immediately obvious, as Apollo becomes the closest thing a god might experience to being high the moment they land in the past - being a powerful god in modern times is nothing like being a powerful god at the height of his power in ancient times. It's overwhelming (and somewhat alarming from Percy's POV, but kind of funny in retrospect.)

The specific date is harder to determine, but made clear when Hermes shows up and starts going on about you'll never believe what father's done now: he seduced the Spartan queen as a swan and she's laid an egg. Hera is furious - especially as they're saying the girl that hatched from it is the most beautiful in the world, even though she's only a few days old. It's nuts. By the way, where have you been? You missed the last two council meetings. Do you want Dad to punish you?

Apollo at this stage is very high. He's also been USTing over Percy for quite some time and is worried what the gods of this era might do to Percy without divine protection (smiting or seduction, it's all on the table). But mostly he's very high, and so to keep Percy close and safe he declares he's been off having the dirtiest of dirty weekends with his latest lover and that Hermes' presence is ruining the mood. So if he would kindly leave, please and thank you, he'd really rather get back to it without an audience.

This, naturally, is a surprise to Percy, but he rolls with it because 1) he doesn't have any better ideas on how to get rid of Ancient Greek Hermes so they can figure out what the hades is going on and 2) he's been USTing over Apollo ever since he recovered enough from Tartarus to start feeling attraction again.

Fueled by mutual UST, they put together a cover story that should hold the next time a god with too much prurient interest shows: Percy is now Prince Persē of Gadir - a Phoenician colony that will grow into the future Cadiz - well past the edge of the Greek world at this stage but not beyond belief for Poseidon to have visited, as it's obvious who his father is. They claim his mother is the King of Gadir's youngest sister and as such Persē had a royal upbringing, but was far enough down the line of succession that he was free to chose to sail east and explore his father's homeland. Apollo caught sight of him on his journey, one thing led to another, and here they are.

(Are there easier, more sensible cover stories? Possibly. But the UST refuses to let them consider any of them now that a fake relationship is on the table.)

Deciding what to do about The Trojan War is much harder. On the one hand, it's a lot of senseless death and destruction. On the other, without it we don't get The Iliad and The Odyssey - two of the most influential works of literature in western civilization - and Aeneas doesn't go off to Italy (leading to the founding of Rome, which would change the history of western civilization a lot). In the end, they decide to let the war happen but do their best to mitigate the worst parts of it.

And so Percy goes off and becomes a hero of Ancient Greece while pretending to be in a relationship with Apollo.

This stage of things is filed with angst from both parties, as both Percy and Apollo want a real relationship with each other but think they're abusing the other's trust by eagerly faking their relationship. There's a lot of PDA, a lot of feelings, and limited communication. It goes on for quite a while and would probably exasperate quite a few people if everyone in the know didn't think they were already in a relationship.

It's also filled with modern day Percy being confronted by realties of life in Ancient Greece. It's not just mortals knowing about - and interacting with - the gods: it's everything. It's food and clothes and language and culture and housing and travel. He can play a lot off it as being a traveler from the edge of the known world, but some of it has him asking Apollo if he's being rick rolled.

Apollo, meanwhile, is having troubles of his own. He is not the god he used to be and it's hard pretending otherwise. He tries to walk the line of doing enough to be believable and holding back enough not to despise himself, but it's a fine line, he fails often, and he spends a not insignificant amount of time worried he's backsliding.

And so it goes until 7-year-old Helen of Troy is kidnapped by Theseus to be his wife.

This, naturally, does not fly with Percy, who by this time has built up something of a reputation as a hero. He teams up with the Dioscuri to rescue Helen.

One would think this would earn him Zeus' favor. It doesn't. Instead, Zeus sends monsters to harry him for refusing to let Castor and Pollux take Helen's captors' loved ones captive and raze Aphidna for Theseus' crime. Percy manages to hold his own for quite a while but eventually, exhausted from the near-constant fighting, is gored and left for dead by the reformed Minotaur.

...and when Apollo arrives, frantic, to heal him, Percy ascends instead, becoming the greek version of Saint Sebastian - a minor god of heroes, strength in the face of adversity, and athleticism; sort of halfway between Hercules and Chiron.

Then and only then do Percy and Apollo finally get their act together, confessing to each other how much they care for the other and how much they don't want this to be fake any longer.

History proceeds apace - albeit with Persē being a second immortal trainer of heroes.

24 years after their arrival in the past, 16 years after Percy's ascension, The Trojan War begins. Despite their best efforts, there's only so much they can do - war is war and gods are gods. They are able to stop some of the worst excesses on both sides, but in the end Apollo still sends the plague that causes Agamemnon to take Briseis for his own, which caused Achilles' departure from the field, Patroclus' death, &c - not because Apollo was trying to maintain the timeline, but because in the instant he sent it he was angry and reverted to his old ways.

Troy falls...

...but when Zeus tries to use this as an excuse to ban gods from interacting with their demigod children, Apollo is able to say that's a bit extreme isn't it? with enough backing from the rest of the council that Zeus is forced to amend his ruling so that the gods are only allowed to freely visit their children on the "cross quarter days" that fall between each solstice and equinox (1 February, 1 May, 1 August, and 1 November).

This changes everything and nothing.

Time continues its inevitable march. Greece has its golden age before being conquered by Rome, which splits apart under its own weight and forms several smaller countries, which eventually spread their cultures around the world...

Apollo and Percy are there for it all. Persē is a minor figure in mythology, but never forgotten. He is ever-present in Apollo's temples - though the Church will later try to rewrite their myth so that they were merely sworn fighting partners, rather than lovers who eventually had a quite lovely wedding on Olympus (and then, at Poseidon's insistence, an even bigger ceremony on Atlantis). Percy takes over day-to-day operations of CHB from practically the moment the Trojan War ends.

...and so Persē is there the day Sally Jackson tries to get her son to camp, and is able to intervene when the Minotaur attacks on their border. He's able to meet her and her young son, Perseus ("Mom named me after you and the guy that killed Medusa since you're the only two heroes to have happy endings!"), and guide him through the trials that come with being a child of prophecy.

One day that Percy will hand Luke - who was never happy with the limited attention the gods were allowed to give their children - a cursed dagger so that Kronos can be defeated. That child will be offered godhood, turn it down, and go on to have a happy life with his eventual wife, Annabeth. He will never have his memories erased and be sent to Camp Jupiter. Gaia will not rise until long after that Percy's grandchildren are dead, and Zeus will not be quite so bullheaded when the proof of it is brought before him. That Second Gigantomachy is swift, well-coordinated, and fought without another Greek/Roman war brewing in the background.

And when they finally arrive at the day Apollo and Percy were originally sent back in time, Percy admits that while he is happy some version of him was better prepared for the war he was asked to fight in and allowed his peace afterward, he would change nothing about his own life, for it brought him to Apollo. The sunrise the next morning - on the first morning of the rest of their lives - is particularly spectacular.

Bonuses include:

Gaslighting Poseidon into believing that he's met Percy before the first time they're introduced. ("What do you mean you don't remember me, Father? You were present when I came of age! You gifted me this trident! Have I displeased you in some way?") It's an absolute masterclass that eventually manages to convince Poseidon that, yes, of course he knows Percy - and, maybe, he should check in on all his other demigod children to make sure he's not missed someone. (Two. He lost track of two of the others. Maybe he should be more careful about siring children in the future.) Apollo practically has to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.

As much historical accuracy as can be crammed into the Percy trying to make sense of Ancient Greece chapters as possible. Think Of a Linear Circle - Part III by flamethrower levels of historical research. As much as can be shoehorned in without bogging down the plot.

Percy and Dionysus bonding over their mutual dislike of Theseus, though Percy generally gets along with his other half-siblings, especially the ones who come to camp young enough to keep from getting big heads over being the children of Poseidon.

Though Percy adores all the children in Cabin 7 (most of whom are born via blessing this time around), he and Apollo have at least one child of their own - maybe a demigod born before Percy's ascension to sell their fake relationship? Maybe a minor god who's later attributed a different parentage by mortals? Dealer's choice on details.

It never being made clear who, or what, or how, Percy and Apollo were sent into the past. All of Percy's oddities are attributed to him being foreign or formerly mortal, all of Apollo's to the fact that he's in love with someone who didn't die before their first anniversary, and no one ever guesses time travel is responsible for their eccentricities. Or that time travel was ever an option.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you ever decide to do anything with it.

More PJO Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[kevindavidday]

we're getting two more tsc books and i'm still in shock over the fact that jean moreau actually canonically had a crush on kevin day. not surprising but it is so, so satisfying to be right. beautiful

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

[thissortofsorcery]

ok but

a fic where Anakin’s had a crush on Obi-Wan since forever, and actually makes a move when he’s like sixteen. But Obi-Wan sits him down and explains very kindly how anyone his own age being attracted to a teenager would be actually terrible, and very unsafe. Anakin stubbornly refuses to accept that, but Obi-Wan just shakes his head and says Anakin will understand when he’s older (Obi-Wan doesn’t feel anything but familial love for Anakin at this point)

And then, when Anakin gets a padawan of his own, he approaches Obi-Wan to say that actually, his Master was right. It wouldn’t be a good thing for a Master to be into their padawan like that. He’s grateful Obi-Wan dealt with it so carefully and turned him down.

And then, as the clone wars stretch on, Obi-Wan comes to realize just how much his feelings for Anakin have changed. And it’s too late now - Anakin’s made it perfectly clear how he wouldn’t welcome Obi-Wan’s feelings.

(Of course, Obi-Wan is wrong)

[definegodliness]

Grand

I.

In that tiniest kitchen With the large second storey window Overlooking the patio, Which I couldn't recall If my life depended on it, I saw the future.

I was looking at you, And you had strung on an apron Like a statement:

I'm all in.

Not like a red dress with high heels.

All. In.

Then you handed me a knife, and Let your fingers linger, Caressing mine.

Chop.

As in:

Act. Decide. Want.

I cannot remember cooking or eating, But I can remember seeing the future.

You were Smiling a lot that day; Beautifully smiling, and, In hindsight, It was because you found out I did love you, That day.

I consider it my life's highest moment To see that joy of affirmation In your eyes.

Even if it took me another two months To realise I wasn't dreaming.

You kept pinching me Until I believed.

I love you.

When I heard you say it, I wore a smile I had seen before, but couldn't fathom Was for me, then.

II.

I was all yours, And you were all mine And for that one perfect moment in time We conquered eternity.

We did.

We saw.

We lost it all.

We touched A soul-birthing connection.

We kissed A lifetime beyond human comprehension.

We fucked For all And anything; The pleasure and pain Of wanting to be, but being unable To fuse into One Single being.

We died in that space which Separated The atoms Between

Us.

-- 21-7-2024, M.A. Tempels ©

[angelidiariess]

TO BE SEEN, TO BE HEARD, TO BE LOVED ⤹ gojou satoru

fic warnings. eating disorder, depression, mentions of suicide, profanity, illnesses, complicated relationships, mentions of emotional child abuse, + more to be updated

summary. with an arranged marriage in place, two estranged kindred spirits with opposite goals meet, one eager to put the pieces together and the other clinging to the thin thread of life. when their paths are pulled together, can they see through the schemes they create and remain unreachable or will they be in too deep?

tags/warnings𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 f!reader x gojou satoru, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pinning, rivals, eventual romance, self help book disguised as a love story, complicated/toxic relationships, family issues, borderline codependency but we dont talk about it, growing up together sorta until she gets scooped away, angst with a happy ending, reader is a sorcerer, she's bat shit crazy, but we love her anyway, heavy mentions of mental illnesses (depression), requited unrequited love, gojo satoru is whipped yall, suicide attempt, + more to be updated

series masterlist ⟶ i. heart to heart?

PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING

In the scorching summer of 2006, the world crackled with an electrifying sense of anticipation and adventure. It was a time of exhilarating escapades and spontaneous thrills as people reveled in the boundless freedom of the season. 

She remembers being a kid, unburdened of duties, happy to know freedom for the first time, saying  ‘We’ll be together forever’ as if it was something nice, something to be excited about, and not a weight sitting heavily on their chests. She pretends Suguru and Gojo are by her side, saying their name ever so softly, telling Gojo to wake up before they are late to class.  She remembers those moments all too well. Then, tragedy struck one person, marking a deep turning point in her life. In an instant, her loved ones were taken from her, propelling her into a stark new reality that she had to face on her own.

'RUN’ was the word that was cried out on that day. Perhaps they were spoken by her sister or the head maiden who was frantically pacing back and forth between the two rooms, trying desperately to find anything that could save their lives.

They knew that escaping was not a choice, not an option for mere defenseless women. They dared not dream of training or honing the innate powers inherited from their lineage, one of the three greatest families in Jujutsu society, the Zenin Clan. They could only stay where they were, unable to fight the special curse and threat, because they were never trained to control their curse power, unlike the men in the family. They were only taught to be obedient and docile, like stereotypical 'good' housewives meant for marriage and bearing children.

They could only wait as the footsteps grew closer, the voices of each agonizing screech nearby became louder, and her bracelet only grew tighter in her hands as if it was constraining her, taunting her for her weakness and the predicament that beheld them.

She remembered the words that were uttered years ago, "You must never remove that bracelet, for it may cause havoc upon those you love." That crusty old man merely went on and on about how they could not remove the bracelet, no matter how much they wanted to. But right now, her doom was inevitable. The metallic stench of blood only became stronger and stronger as every second seemed to pass by. So, who was she to be blamed for snipping the shackles from her arms? To finally stand up for once in her life and not let mere fate and the words of others determine her actions. Her defiance was palpable, a force to be reckoned with. Yet fate somehow held other plans for her.

The reader did not know that these shackles held down her power, kept it dormant. 

As soon as she ripped the shackles off her hands and stood up to protect one of the few people she had in her wretched world, a lightning-like sparkling curse power surged through her body. The surroundings began to glow from the power overtaking her. She looked at her sister one last time, fear glinting in her eyes, before the immense pressure of power blurred her vision. She had no idea it would be the last time she would see her beloved sister again. Her power became too much to control, overwhelming the floor beneath her. The pressure was so great that it created a circle of destruction.

Her sister, worried, rushed to her side, but before she could touch her, the pressure of her power became too much. An explosion erupted in the room, with her at the center of the chaos. Shielded by a force from her own power, she remained unscathed, but her sister whispered something to her—words she could not make out—before she collapsed from the intense pressure, her ears ringing and the room left in ruins.

・・・・・・ʕ ˵ ̿–ᴥ ̿– ˵ ʔ

Hushed whispers of pointed words from the distance awoken her from her unconsciousness. She could only make out slurs of hesitation from an older man, who she could not see due to the blindfold that disrupted her sense of sight. "The verdict must be disclosed once the perpetrator is conscious and ready for questioning," a man with a deep, authoritative voice explained. A crowd of protesters erupted in displeasure at the choice, loud enough to sting her ears to consciousness. "She must be held to a degree regardless of her prowess!" Another man said. "Do not fail to uphold her according to the law and disregard the crimes she had committed. Although she is a Zenin, she cannot simply do as she wants regardless of reason!"

At the mention of her clan, she perked up ever so slightly, making the crowd suddenly go quiet. In a split second, footsteps only came close to her in her rear sight, the harsh light illuminating a hand reaching forward to grab the blindfold from her face. The scene she saw when her eyes wandered was a surprise. What she expected to see was the head of her clan, Naobito Zenin, and the bastard of a father to be facing her, sitting leisurely at the seat center of the Zenin residence headquarters, yet what she saw instead was an old unfamiliar man furrowing their eyebrows at her as if she had murdered his cat. When she let her eyes wander around the room, it became more clear that she was certainly not at her own residence, but actually in the Jujutsu Kaisen headquarters restrained with shackles, treated as some sort of vicious criminal in question. 

 ‘No wonder I could not move,’ she thinks, cursing to herself.

As she searched the room, her eyes followed a familiar ocean-eyed man that she could recognize by touch alone, by smell; she would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. She would know him in death at the end of the world. 

Those ocean-blue eyes that once held so much loving and caring adoration now are ice cold, full of hatred, and hurt. She couldn't think of another time he’d looked like this, not since they’d first met. She swallows the next words that were uttered sending shivers to her spine.

“24 deaths,” the man continued with a nonchalant voice as if they did not just address a massacre. “7 casualties. Is that right, Zenin?”

She had wanted to scream in denial, to plead that it was all a misunderstanding. That there was a special grade curse had infiltrated their residence, forcing her to choose between the people she loved and the greater good. She wanted to so desperately tell them that she had no choice but to protect the people she loved, even though her attempt was futile as her fate, as they ended up as collateral damage in the end and left her all behind to deal with the mess that she made. But deep down, she knew that no amount of justification could wash away the blood on her hands.

Well as the saying, goes, you reap what you sow. In the end, she could not utter those words she longed to say for she knew better. She knew better than to label the whole situation as an accident for she had only herself to blame.

As they deliberated her fate, she contemplated confessing the truth, laying bare the guilt that weighed heavy on her soul. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to speak the damning words that would seal her doom. In the end, her silence spoke volumes, and the shadow of a death sentence loomed over her. Just as it seemed her fate was sealed, a powerful voice cut through the tension. 

Gojo Satoru stepped forward, his intense gaze fixed on her as he interceded on her behalf. “Her immense powers could be vital in safeguarding the world from catastrophic threats,” he argued, “and banishing her would be a shortsighted decision.” Acknowledging that she had misused her abilities for personal gain, the council reached a compromise. They decided to exile her to a remote location, her powers concealed by a powerful sorcery item that would strip her of her ability to wield sorcery. It was a harsh punishment, but one that offered a flicker of redemption and a chance to make amends for the lives she had taken.

She had wanted to be the best, to prove her father wrong, that she was someone worthy, someone who was more than a woman, more than what they saw her as: a weak, feeble marionette. She wanted someone to understand her, for a certain boy to kiss her, to save her little sister from the godforsaken place they called home, to be free. Free from the hallucinations when she was five, free from the pressure when she was twelve, free from the duties that were forced upon her like a noose since she was young and free from the lies she told herself now that she is sixteen. She had finally taken off the shackles and acted upon her life, but everybody was left behind. She had wondered then and there, ‘What was it all for?’

authors note: thank you for reading so far! if you have any suggestions or questions regarding the fanfic please let me know and i'll try my best to answer. hope you guys noticed the song of achilles reference in the chapter hehe. until then, see you next time^^

taglist: @eolivy, @kalopsia-flaneur

all rights reserved to @angel1blogg. please do not copy, repost, translate or modify my works in any platform. permission from the owner is needed for any alterations in any work

[gracelesslady23]

WIP Wednesday, but I am impatient so positing it on a Friday

Thanks for the tag @mycupofrum ! I haven't done one of these in way too long!

Tagging @strugglequill @groundzero-v @roalinda (plus anyone else who has something they want to share)

Here's little snippet from my newly started Prongsfoot Fest fic!

Sirius shot his brother a smug look as James’s automatically wound his arm around his waist in response, easily falling into step beside him. Encouraged by the foul cloud that descended over Regulus’s expression, Sirius went a step further, pressing a kiss into James’s messy hair, just above his ear.

“Pads,” James said tightening the hand at Sirius’s waist in mock protest, but there was not a hint of reproach in his voice. If anything, he sounded delighted by Sirius’s easy affection.

Sirius grinned, centring his attention fully on his best friend.

“So…” Sirius said. “Old Sluggie held me back just now to invite me to another of his little soirees. And I’ve had another of my brilliant ideas, you should come with me.”

James froze, with their arms still wound around each other his abrupt stop halted Sirius as well.

“You want me to go with you?” James asked, swallowing as if past a dry mouth, “as in… with you, with you?”

“Er –“ Sirius stalled. Usually, he fancied himself quite the expert at decoding James’s james-isms but what in Merlin’s name was with you with you supposed to mean. Searching James’s face turned up nothing – James’s familiar features were twisted in such a way that they were somehow rendered entirely unreadable. It was a little infuriating to be honest, as Sirius, before this moment, had been fairly certain he knew every single one of James’s expressions and what they meant.

“Well,” Sirius hedged. Nudging James to continue their progress down the corridor in a bid to ensure they made it to Charms in time. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, of course –”

“Iwanttogowithyou,” James said so quickly the words ran into each other. He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears reddening. “I want to go with you,” he repeated this time with deliberate articulation.

“Alright,” Sirius said slowly. His brain busily tripping over itself in complete and utter bafflement as he attempted to feel his way back to understanding what might just be the most bewildering conversation he’d ever had with James.

[catherinexmorland]

I can’t wait for the scene when Pen finds out that Colin is into her

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 131

Jasker is a dragon, sure. But he prefers his human form. He prefers pretty clothing and lutes over his scales and wings. He hasn't a hoard yet. He thinks. He's never truly cared for gold, though he knows that not all dragons have hoards of gold. That's just the default. What if he did have a hoard, and it just wasn't some boring old gold pieces? At first he thought his hoard must be his many exuberant outfits, but when he got into a scuffle and one outfit was ruined, he was disappointed but that was it. There was no anguish, no mourning, no big depressive meltdown over it's destruction... So probably not a hoard. Just an interest. He then thought it must be his songs. But when he heard a bard in some town playing one of his songs, he didn't erupt into scales and roars. He didn't burn down a city. He didn't even rip out his hair or anything. He wasn't even mad. He thinks you'd be more possessive and jealous over a hoard. He was mostly proud. The bard said it was a song he didn't write, he said it was by Jaskier, and he sang it quite well. But even if he didn't do any of those things, Jaskier would be mad, sure, maybe even mad, but never MAD. He thought of lovers being his hoard, but the thought went away very quickly. None of his lovers stay, and though it stings sometimes, he thinks he'd be flinging himself off a cliff if a treasure of his hoard literally got up and walked away from him. And then one day he meets a Witcher. The witcher looks at him with these piercing golden eyes, and Jaskier feels an audible shift in his soul, his being. He found it. His treasure. Maybe witchers are his hoard, and Geralt is just his first one. Maybe his hoard is just friends he meets. He doesn't know, all he knows is that he can't stop himself from staring at the gold of Geralt's eyes. Perhaps Jaskier does care for gold.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Working on a Mythal/Solas/Lavellan/Felassan Ancient Arlathan AU where Lavellan was once a spirit of Curiosity that was corrupted to Manipulation by Dirthamen and sent to kill the Dread Wolf! We got all the relationships here, all the tropes! Power dynamics! Yearning! Jealousy! Betrayal! Whole Shakespearean madness!

I usually don't like reincarnation storylines because they feel like they take the agency away from characters, but boy this plot bunny was stubborn!

Read the prologue here and let me know what you think! I won't start properly writing it until I'm done with my 2 other Solavellan stories though.