#Dreaming of all these monsters that I’ll never get to fight

[ninadove]

It’s just me, myself and I

Stuck in my bedroom

Living in this world you left behind

— Legendary, from EPIC: The Musical

For @paracosmicat! 💜🐈‍⬛

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 

 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)

some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry

title: the dancer and the angel part 3

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??

parts: part 1 part 2

warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

GRAYSON’S POV

Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-

I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.

Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.

I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.

I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.

“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.

It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.

It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.

“No,” I reply.

My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.

“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.

I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?

Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.

“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.

I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.

I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.

But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.

“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.

“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I’ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.

“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.

A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.

But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.

“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.

“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.

I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.

“Leave Grayson.”

I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.

***

Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.

911

***

The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?

The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.

I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.

She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.

I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.

I know her.

I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.

“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”

His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.

“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.

“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.

I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.

“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.

“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.

The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.

“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”

“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.

I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.

“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.

“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.

“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”

“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.

Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”

“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.

“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”

The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained

“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.

I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”

He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”

I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“

“What happened?” Nash drawls.

I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.

“I kissed Lyra.”

The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”

Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.

Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“

Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.

“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”

Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.

“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.

Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.

“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”

“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.

“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.

“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”

“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.

“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.

“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.

“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.

“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.

“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.

“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“

“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.

“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.

“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.

“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”

“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.

“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”

“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.

“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”

“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”

I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.

“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”

“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.

“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”

“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.

“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.

“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”

“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.

“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“

“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.

“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“

Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.

“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”

“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.

“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.

“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”

“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”

“Jameson,” Nash says.

He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”

“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”

“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”

“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”

“Good you should!” he screams back.

Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.

“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.

“Jameson.”

He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.

“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”

Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.

“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”

Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.

“Talk.”

I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“

“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”

“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”

She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.

“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.

Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“

I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.

“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.

“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“

I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.

“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”

I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.

“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.

“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”

Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”

“I made a mistake,” I press on.

“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”

“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.

“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.

“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”

“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn’t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.

“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.

“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.

No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.

“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”

“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”

“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.

“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.

“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”

“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“

“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.

I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.

“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.

He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.

“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”

I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.

Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.

“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.

Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.

“Honestly?” Xander asks.

I nod

“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.

“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”

“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.

“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”

Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”

“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”

“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”

“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”

“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”

“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.

“You don’t-“

“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“

“Grayson-“ Nash begins.

“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.

My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.

“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”

The change of tense makes my soul ache.

“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”

I nod numbly, robotically.

“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”

Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.

He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”

Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.

“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.

Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”

“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”

“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”

“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.

“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.

“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.

“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.

I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.

“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,

Nash shakes his head softly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.

“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”

The room grows still.

“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.

“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.

“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.

“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”

“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,

“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.

“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”

My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”

“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.

‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.

“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.

Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.

“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.

“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.

“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”

“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.

They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.

“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”

They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.

I can barely breathe, “who died?”

“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”

“What?” I say, my tone deadly,

Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.

“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”

“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.

“Gigi’s missing.”

The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.

***

YOUR POV

I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.

I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”

Only me, huh? Only me…

The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.

***

I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?

There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.

idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…

I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always

TIG masterlist

[multific]

In Love with a Monster

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.

"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"

"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.

Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.

But having you marry a Viking? 

He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.

He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.

And it was final.

You felt betrayed by your own father.

But what did you expect?

You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.

You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat. 

Your life might as well end now.

But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.

To be married to a Viking monster.

---

Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.

He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.

Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.

---

As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug. 

"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.

"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.

"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence. 

You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.

You let out a sigh.

"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.

---

"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"

"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.

His mind was filled with you.

How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them. 

Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.

You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.

His princess.

---

You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space. 

You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.

You were terrified.

You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel. 

And it is what you expected.

---

Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.

He could tell his brothers also had the same thought. 

Soon, you will be his wife, only his. 

He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.

You were his now.

His woman.

His wife.

His Princess.

His.

As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.

Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing. 

You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.

You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him. 

You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You were thankful he didn't force you.

---

This went on for a couple of days.

Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence. 

And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off. 

Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.

A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.

A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.

During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.

But not anymore.

Slowly but surely you were coming around. 

You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.

Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall. 

You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.

Sigurd smirked.

"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.

"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.

You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.

"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.

"Of course I do."

"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate. 

You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.

But he was looking at you.

You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him. 

And he was grateful.

He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing. 

Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.

Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.

When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.

You were rather taken aback. 

You have never seen him like this before. 

You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft. 

The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow. 

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.

You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.

He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.

Those strong arms.

You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.

"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.

Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.

And it did make you wonder.

He was surely not a monster.

"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious. 

Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.

"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."

"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."

There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.

"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."

"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."

"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."

"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.

"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."

"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."

"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred." 

"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."

"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."

"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.

"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."

"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"

"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."

"Even my legs?"

"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his. 

You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.

He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist. 

You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.

---

The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.

Then after just a second, the memories came back. 

Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.

It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.

And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.

Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night. 

And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.

You managed to fall in love with the monster.

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[holylulusworld]

Omega by nature

Summary: You're an omega by nature.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, chasing, a hint of fear, OOC Dean, character's death

Sequel to: Beta in heart

A/N: Part 2/3

A few minutes before Dean came back to the bunker, …

Your eyes snap open and you’re gasping for air. The first thing you do when you jolt up on your mattress is touch your mating gland. Another nightmare woke you from your dreams.

“Only a dream,” you whimper as your mating gland is still untouched. The monster didn’t get the chance to destroy it. “How…why?” Just now you hear someone growl outside your room. “What?”

“Dean, you need to stop!” You can hear Sam outside your room, and then something hits your door. “DEAN!”

“She’s mine!” That’s Dean, fighting with his brother to get inside your room. “I got the get her! Sammy, get out of my way!”

You hear a loud thud and something sounding like a heavy body dropping to the ground. 

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

Now, …

“OMEGA!” Dean steps inside your room. He sniffs in all directions, almost like a predator scenting his prey. “Omega?” A throaty purr leaves his lips catching your scent. “Y/N?”

You clasp one hand over your mouth. If Dean finds you in your hideout, he’ll not be able to control his instinct. He made it very clear, that you are not the woman he wants. Omega or not.

“Y/N, come out,” he crouches down to look under your bed. “There you are.” He lies flat on the floor, hand reaching out to touch your ankle. “Omega, you need to come here.”

“Go away,” you shrug his hand off your leg. “You can’t be here, Dean. Please leave my room. Your scent will ruin it. Please…”

“I can’t go,” he grabs your ankle again, tugging at it. You try to crawl away, but Dean won’t let go of your leg. “Get out from under your bed. We need to talk. Stop acting like a child.” Dean growls. You can hear him growl low in his throat.

Dean fights from control. If not, he’ll drag you out from under the bed and mate you. “Let me go.” You kick and scream as Dean crawls under the bed to wrap his arms around your body. “I’m warning you!”

“You need to calm down, or you’ll go feral,” he snarls in your ear. “I can smell you. Why did you reveal you’re an omega now?”

You wiggle in his grip and refuse to answer his question. “Let me go!”

“OMEGA!” You stiffen at his alpha command. While your instinct tells you to give in to Dean’s demands, you are too stubborn to obey. “Give in.” He sniffs your neck, purring low in his throat when you tilt your head. “Answer me.”

“I told you that I didn’t want you and Sam to believe I’m a liability,” you bite back. “And after you told me my presentation doesn’t change how you feel about me, I thought I could stop using suppressants and scent blockers. That shit is expensive!”

“What if Sammy would’ve lost control, huh? With an omega smelling like you around, he could’ve easily lost control,” Dean growls. 

“Sammy doesn’t see me that way, Dean. He would never…”

“Nature gives a shit about feelings, Y/N,” he tightens his hold on you when you start wiggling again. “An alpha scenting an omega like you will lose control. You’re lucky I knocked him out.”

A cold shiver runs down your spine at Dean’s words. “You did what? Dean, you can’t just knock your brother out. What has gotten into you?”

”Do you know how hard I try to keep my alpha in control?” He nuzzles your neck. “If I let go, I’ll claim, mate, and knot you until you can’t walk straight for a week.”

“I won’t let you,” you ram your elbow into his stomach, making him growl. “You fucked Cassie not days ago. Do you honestly believe I’ll let you stick your dick into me?”

“Bad move, sweetheart,” Dean bites your neck. His teeth don’t leave a mark, but you stiffen and hold your breath. He grazes your mating gland with his teeth, making sure you know he’s not joking. “We won’t leave this room before we talk things out.”

“I need to get away from you, Dean! You smell like rut,” you’re out of breath from wiggling in his hold. “Please, you don’t want me.

“I smell like rut, but Castiel helped me suppress it,” he whispers in your ear. “Still, I’m struggling to hold back and not mate you.” 

“You’re mine. Always were meant to be mine,” His voice dangerously low Dean snarls in your ear. “You had no right to hide your presentation from me. I tried so hard to stay away from you to not hurt you. I could’ve had my omega all this time!”

“Fuck you,” you snap at Dean before you ram your elbow into his solar plexus. He winces in pain and finally releases his hold on you. 

You take the chance and crawl away, getting on your feet as fast as you can to go for a sprint. Dean is fast and strong. You must be faster to escape him.

“Y/N! Don’t!” He warns, but you are halfway out of the room. You slam the door shut behind you, holding your breath as you find Sam on the ground. 

“Fuck. Sammy! He didn’t lie,” you crouch down to check on Sam’s pulse. He’s out cold, but he’s breathing. “I’m so sorry, Sam. He’s out of his mind…”

“OMEGA!”

“Shit,” you curse, and get back up to run along the hallways. If you can reach Sam or Castiel’s room, their scent will cover your scent. “Stay away from me!”

“Get back here!”

Dean chases after you. He curses under his breath as you speed up to dash toward his brother’s room. “I can see where you are going! There is no need to hide. I only want to talk to you.”

You stop in your tracks to look over your shoulder. Dean flashes you a toothy smirk, showing off his teeth. The last time he looked at you like that was when he was a demon – and that wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Dean dips his head, waiting for your next step. “Chasing me around the bunker won’t make me forgive you, Dean. You know this will end badly if you don’t stop right now. I’ll castrate you before I let you mate me.”

He chuckles darkly. His eyes glow, and his teeth look a little sharper when he smirks at you. “Sweet little omega, I’m going to chase you down.”

“Okay. That is enough,” you don’t know what has gotten into Dean, but this is not your friend. Something is more than wrong with him, and you fear he’ll go feral if you don’t stop him right now. “How about we talk this out?”

You tilt your head in submission to please the alpha. “How about we leave talking to bookworms and losers? I have something better in mind.”

“How about you fuck off you sonofabitch!” Your eyes widen when another Dean steps next to you to shove you behind his back. “That’s my omega!”

“Dean?” You look from the man holding a gun in his hand to the other Dean, the one chasing you around the bunker. 

“I see you liked my face so much you had to copy it,” Dean jokes as he watches the shapeshifter smirk back at him. “Tell me, when did you touch me?”

“It was so easy. A crowded bar, with many people. I brushed past you and, voila, I knew everything about you and that sweet omega waiting to get bred,” the monster replies. “It was so easy to get inside the bunker and knock your brother out.”

“Well, newsflash asshole, this omega is mine,” Dean fires a round at the monster, throwing another one-liner at the shapeshifter as it drops dead to the ground.

“He’ll be alright,” Dean says as you worriedly look at Sam. “I should’ve come home sooner.”

“I should’ve known that you would never—” you sniff. “I ran and left Sam behind. Why did I not realize that this wasn’t you? You would never want me and…”

“Sweetheart, we will talk about this tomorrow,” Dean places his hand on your shoulder. “For tonight, I want you to stay with Sammy while I get rid of the shapeshifter.”

“I…” you nod, even though, you wish you could confront Dean for all the things he said and did.

For tonight, you will stay with Sam and ignore the aching in your chest.

You can’t help but feel sad. At least the monster wanted you. 

>> Love by heart

Tags in reblog.

[visualbutterflysworld]

Forgive me? | Vhackerr

When reader and Vinnie get into a bad argument things seem to take a turn for the worse when vinnie says something he shouldn’t. Could this be the end or could this just become the beginning of a true relationship?

I low key had a dream about this type of scenario like years ago and randomly thought of it so :P also probably sloppy writing

“That’s so fucking stupid!” Vinnie screams at me. Vinnie and I had been dating for about 5 months now. We usually don’t fight. I mean not like this. We were fighting about us and what we were. If I said me and him were just friends he’d flip but if I’d ask to post about us he’d deflect.

“It’s not! You should understand about how I feel! I just want the world to know about us! That’s it!” I scream. “Yeah, because you want your fifteen minutes of fame! Such a fucking leach like everyone else!” Vinnie yelled back. I stand there with disbelief. He for real just said that.

Vinnie huffs before he realizes what he has said. “Y/n-” “No, fuck you, Vincent! You think I’m with you because you’re some fucking celebrity?! I’m with you because I love you! Because I love you more than I love myself! More than life itself! I was willing to wait till you were ready but I’m sick of waiting! I’m sick of feeling like I’m some fucking monster that you have to keep hidden from the world but, you know what, since you think that poorly on my character then we shouldn’t let the world know! We shouldn’t let the world know that we had any sorta of connection because we’re fucking done!” I scream at him. I quickly grab the rest of my stuff before heading towards the door.

“I’ll have somebody come get the rest of my shit. Please fuck off you entitled dick!” Is the last thing I shout before slamming the door. The rest is a blur. One minute I’m in the hallway of his building and next I’m sitting on my bathroom floor crying my heart out to my mom.

“Honey, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m sure right then and there he would’ve said I love you too.” My mother says as I sob quietly. I told that asshole I loved him. Can you believe that? I’m not sure I meant it but my heart is telling me I did. I told him we were over but, I don’t want it to be over. I get a notification from my phone.

Instagram

Vinnie Hacker has posted on their story

“Yeah, I got to go mom. I’ll talk to you later.” I said and quickly hang up. It takes all my will power not to click on it immediately but my hands seem to have a mind of its own. I click on his story.

My hand instantly goes to my mouth. He posted me. He called me his girl. That asshole. I hear my doorbell ring and I know who it is. I quickly get onto my feet and go to my door. I open it and there he is. My favorite flowers and food in hand. I look up at him and he seems like he can’t maintain eye contact but he does anyways.

“I’m so so so sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I called you that. That was wrong. Very wrong of me. I don’t assume that you’re with me because I’m well me. I know that. I’ve been known that..just I fucked up because that’s what I do. I fuck up anything good in my life because I’m afraid of being hurt. You’re too good for me and I honestly don’t deserve you but, I posted you on my story so now you’re like kinda force to be with me anyways. I mean I’ll grovel if you want but, fuck I can’t let you go! I’m sorry and I love you! I mean…I think I love you more than you love me but-”

“Vincent!”

He blinks for the first time in 3 minutes. “Yeah?” “You should probably come inside before my food gets cold.” I smile softly at him. He lights up instantly and quickly makes his way inside. He sets the flowers and food down before turning to me. “I’m really sorry! We can go slow! We can start over and pretend this fight never happened like now we’re officially dating or something!” I run up and hug him. “Vinnie, we’re okay.” I kiss him quickly and his face follows mine as I lean away. “I mean…you’re gonna have to do some major groveling if you want to be my boyfriend again but I think we’re still dating.”

He smirks, “that’s fine by me.”

This was so trash but I’m sick and wanted to post something so :P

[fangsandfeels]

I think about protective Astarion a lot:

I strongly support the idea that he is Tav's protector as much as Tav is his. He is more closed about discussing his concerns with others - even on happily concluding the romance, he maintains his coy behavior and rebuffs all attempts at prying. But as always, there is a lot going on under the layers.

- I believe he stops seeing Tav as his protector/meatshield even a bit prior to the confession. He has always been more comfortable with “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine” arrangement, but he only fully embraces it after either Tav takes his side in his argument with Araj or helps him murder the orthon and learn more about his scars. Before that, he still subconsciously relies on Tav for safety to the point of rationalizing the necessity to do what he doesn’t want to do just because Tav told him to.

- His best and usual protective side is that he is always there to catch Tav when they fall. To drag them to safety, help them get up, and keep them going. He is there to talk and hear them out when something is weighing down on them. He drops all this flamboyant flirtatiousness he wears when discussing his relationship with others the very instant Tav needs him. He is calm, firm, and attentive because Tav needs him. Being strong for someone else is a very new feeling for him, but it also comes naturally. He doesn't like seeing his partner in pain, but finding himself as someone's source of strength and support is life-changing for him. He likes to realize that he is capable of caring about someone. That part of him is still alive. Like no other, Astarion knows that sometimes you can’t slay all the monsters and terrors that haunt your loved one, but you can be there for them when they fight their own battles. And that’s what he does. His approach is similar to Karlach’s in that regard: if you can’t walk, I’ll carry you, if you need a hand, you have mine, you you need to talk, my ears are all yours.

- After he stops seeing Tav as a protector, he is much more aware of Tav’s vulnerability. Tav isn’t invincible. Tav gets hurt. Tav can be in danger. It becomes particularly glaring when it’s revealed that they all haven’t turned yet because a rogue illithid holds their lives in its webbed hands. A rogue illithid who was lying about a cure all this time. Who never had any intention of removing the tadpole. Who saw ceremorphosis as something good. The Emperor has almost the same hold on Tav and all of them as Cazador on his spawns. It would have puppeteered them into doing its bidding hadn’t it been spending its energy on resisting the brain. This is why Astarion calls Tav a “mindflayer thrall” during their argument. Because this is what they are as long as their safety depends on the Emperor’s good mood. It’s not their fault, really. But Astarion clearly has been thinking about it and worried about it. He probably wished not to be stuck between a rock and a hard place for once, not having to choose between two evils, to be strong enough to get them both out of it. So, he doesn’t exactly lie or try to manipulate Tav when he says he wants to keep them both safe. He wants it. He hates to be helpless, but what he hates even more is to watch Tav trying to keep their spirits up and looking for a way out of their predicament while thing just invades Tav's dreams or invites itself into their skull whenever it wishes. He hates wondering what will happen if the Emperor stops playing nice one day. Oh, if only he could be stronger.

- In general, it seems that he is most riled up and protective of Tav when there is a particular type of threat. Tav can handle themselves in a fight. They take a beating sometimes, but they bounce back (what can’t be said about the other guy) and if they don’t find a fight, the fight finds them. Astarion knows it and he doesn’t really mind. He loves the thrill: his spawn endings made it clear that the man embraces the chaos of making decisions and choosing paths with a smile. Danger is part of the fun. It makes his heart beat.

- He generally does his best to be strong for Tav, just like they stay strong for him. But there are also moments when Tav is in danger, and Astarion sees red. And I imagine it’s not only when Tav ends up at the death’s door. It’s also when something directly challenges Tav’s autonomy. A crazy drow wants to run experiments on Tav? Absolutely not, what the fuck? Even if Tav agrees, Astarion is still uncomfortable with the thought and doesn't hide it. Had Araj tried to force her experimentation on the unwilling Tav or trick them into participating, she would have been turned into a dagger cushion very quickly. Cazador calls Tav cattle (another lover to follow Astarion and lose everything, even their right to their soul and body, because of him)? The mere thought of it, the association, the hint at him being a failure dragging his lover down with him makes Astarion lose his composure and just go for the jugular. The idea of Tav enduring the same abuse or being forcibly changed terrifies him. When Tav does it to themselves, it hurts already. However, if someone does it to Tav without letting Tav have any say, then Astarion would go absolutely feral. If that someone can be stabbed, they will be stabbed. If they can’t be stabbed, Astarion WILL find a way to stab them and eviscerate them. Then, regardless of whether Tav is alright or not, Astarion will experience an emotional breakdown that he will then refuse to discuss with anyone else. He has come a long way, but certain negative emotions are still too much to handle.

[evermoresqueiswriting]

riptide

“I was scared of dentists and the dark I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations Oh, all my friends are turning green You're the magician's assistant in their dream”

summary: going on the camp's field trip to olympus because clarisse asked you to, meeting your father and clarisse's father and also, there are new updates from camp - luke gone, and percy's arrival

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 6.7k (14 year old me would never believe me if i said i casually wrote a 6k chapter)

tags: mostly fluff, tiny splash and angst

series masterlist 3/?

The date ended really late – you fell asleep on the beach, and Clarisse didn’t have the heart to wake you up. She didn’t dare, you looked too peaceful to disturb. You loved taking naps and whenever you were around Clarisse, you felt safe enough to do so. By the time you woke up, it was already dark, and Clarisse had put your blouse back on you because it started to get chilly. When you realised what time it was, you hurried Clarisse and grabbed all your bags before leaving the beach. 

The ride back home was quite long, and once you got into camp, it was really quiet. You and Clarisse tried to be quiet, and walked slowly towards your cabins, but then you heard footsteps. Both of you whipped around. Chiron, hands on his hip and Mr D, standing next to him. 

“Hi,” you waved.

Clarisse swiftly grabbed your hand to put it down. 

“You missed the curfew,” Mr D said.

“What– What curfew? There was one?” you hesitated, looking at Clarisse.

“Yes,” Mr D continued, “it was written, black on white, that you should be home before 9pm. And it’s, would you look at that,” he showed you his watch-less wrist, “it’s past 11!”

“We– I didn’t know,” you explained, “I- I mean– I can’t read and neither can she.”

Chiron shook his head, and Clarisse stepped in front of you, shielding you from their disappointed faces. 

“We’re sorry, we didn’t see the time.”

Your hand was grabbing tightly onto Clarisse’s arm.  

“Go back to your cabins and rest,” Chiron said.

“Yeah, cause you’ll need it for the cleaning duties you’ll get for the whole week or month, I still haven’t decided yet haha,” Mr D finished and walked away. 

You were once again alone. You sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her. 

“What for?”

“I should’ve read the whole letter, I should've known and now because of me you’ll have cleaning duties for maybe a whole month!”

“I don’t mind, I had a great time today,” you raised your head up at this, “I’ll do another month again if it means we get to do that again.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Really, now go to sleep.”

It ended up being a whole month of cleaning duties, but neither of you cared because you got to be together.

Your summer was split between three people, Clarisse, Will and Lee. 

Fighting and combat with Clarisse. Clarisse was ruthless, not letting you rest for a bit, always pushing you to your limits. She had one thing in mind and that was for you to be the best version of yourself. You were progressing fast which she was extremely proud of. Just like Luke said, you were a natural fighter, and everyone noticed that during Capture the Flag. You went from hiding behind Clarisse the whole time from leading the fight. 

Archery lessons from Lee. Lee was also very insistent as a teacher. Never letting you rest. 

“Hitting a still target is easy, a child could do it,” Lee told you in his first lesson. “But no monster is going to stay still for you to hit it at your pace. So, we’ll practise on moving targets, fast and unpredictable ones.”

And he was right, it was much more difficult. There was no time for you to prepare, and see where the wind went. But after some practice, it was easier. He was a good teacher, after all. You were tired and sore at the end of every day, which seemed a bit excessive for a fun, safe, summer camp for half bloods. They looked like they were preparing you for war at this pace. And when you had some free time, you spent it with Cornelia painting and playing old board games they had in the cabins. It was a great way to relax. 

Alongside sharpening your skills, you also spent an absurd amount of time at the infirmary with Will. Michael was the one teaching you everything, with a tiny Will following you there too. He was absorbing information at an incredible pace.

“Isn’t he a bit young to be learning all of this?” you asked Michael.

“Yeah, but he’s good at it, so who cares? Surely not Mr D.”

Will was a really nice kid, and obviously a natural healer. With the two of you at the infirmary, Michael was able to leave for longer periods of time. Will and you often held karaoke afternoons while cleaning the infirmary. And this time, it was your turn to choose the song. So, You and Will were dueting ‘august’ by Taylor Swift when someone came in.

“But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall" Remember–” you sang with Will. 

“You’re having fun here,” Clarisse leaned on the doorframe. 

You screamed, and turned around. 

“Clarisse! Hi,” Will waved.

She gave you a questioning look. They had never met.

“This is Will Solace, my brother,” you smiled.

“Yeah, y/n talks about you all the time!” Will smile proudly, before you shoved him aside.

“Betrayal, I said all of these things in confidence, but whatever,” you dragged him outside. “Go grab some more supplies, we’re missing ambrosia.”

“But it’s ful–.”

You slammed the door. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” you laughed, turning back to Clarisse. 

“Sure,” she smirked. 

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I forgot to give you something.”

“A gift?” you beamed.

She took out a small tissue bag from her pocket and handed it to you. You opened it, and let the object slip into your palm. A ring.

“Are you proposing?” you joked. 

She rolled her eyes, and smiled. 

“I watched you pick this size when choosing yours, so you shouldn’t lose this one.”

“Thank you, it’s so pretty I love it!” you put it on your left index. 

Clarisse had the one you gave her on her necklace. 

“Great, don’t lose it.”

“I won’t!”

And just like that – in the blink of an eye –  summer was over, and it was time for you to leave camp and go back home. You knew it was time to leave when Mr D started yelling that those who weren’t staying for the year to leave immediately because he had enough of seeing you bunch. When you walked away from your cabin, you noticed Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance of camp.

“I guess this is goodbye,” she smiled.

“Until October, for the field trip,” you corrected her. “I talked to Mr D and he said it was ok for me to come. So really it’s only two months away! And I’ll send letters, I’m sure Hermes Express have those next day delivery types of… offers?”

“Sure.”

You fiddled with your fingers. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted. “And I’ll miss Capture the Flag and being on your team, and I’ll miss sparing with you, and I’ll miss… seeing you everyday.”

Her eyes softened. 

“Only two months, like you said.”

You nodded. Then, hesitantly, you opened your arms. 

“What?” Clarisse frowned. 

“We should hug goodbye.”

She had her arms crossed, but then she uncrossed them and you went to wrap your arms around her torso. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your shoulders. When her arms loosened, you let go. 

“I’ll see you soon Clarisse,” you squeezed her arm, before walking away.

“See you soon sunshine,” Clarisse watched you walk away, “I’ll miss you too,” but you were already too far away to hear it. 

Once you were back home, the first thing you did was to go find your mom’s old walkerman. You had to go search the old boxes your mom had put away in the attic – it was difficult but worth it.

“Why do you need this?” your mother asked once you came out of the attic with her walkerman. 

“It’s for— my friend?”

“Clarisse?”

“Yes. Clarisse.”

When you told your mother about your summer at camp, it had included a lot of Clarisse related stories. 

“And I told her I’d send letters so we could keep in touch, but now I realise I can’t write for the life of me, and even if I did write something, she’s spent too much time trying to decipher what I wrote, and it's just not– good. So I thought I’d send her this,” you waved the walkerman, “and I’d buy empty cassettes to record things, and send pictures along with it.”

“Oh, that’s a very nice thing to do,” she nodded. 

“Oh! I forgot to tell you– to ask you really. Hm, there is this field trip at camp… in october. It’d be during the halloween vacations, so I won’t miss school. Can I go, please?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Well that was easy. 

So every week, you’d record what you did and update Clarisse about your life, you’d take pictures and buy her favourite snacks — you tried out a lot during your date — and ship it to camp half-blood. Clarisse would also send you pictures. The dinner, pictures of Will and behind one of his pictures he’d written ‘i miss u <3’ on the back, people training, their win at Capture the Flag, and you’d keep everything in a box dedicated to Clarisse. 

Two months. Two months at camp went by fast, too fast even. But two months at school, minus your friends and the fun at camp, it was slow. You woke up every day at 6:45am, got ready and left for school, came back around 5:50pm and did your homework, ate, washed-up, and then scrolled on twitter, fighting with random accounts, and then went to sleep. Your routine was boring to no end, but you tried so you could have things to tell Clarisse. But life outside of camp was boring and your mother could see that.

“You know, if you wanted to stay at camp for the whole year, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Oh.

“But, what about you then? I don’t want you to live alone in this big ass mansion.”

“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” she reassured you.

“I won’t, knowing you’ll be alone.”

Your mom wasn’t on good terms with her parents after they learned that she’d be raising a kid alone, without marriage or even a boyfriend. After you were born, they did visit and spent time with you, but never with your mom, their daughter. So she couldn’t even call them to come live with her. You weren’t going to abandon her when she only has you. 

“I–,” she put her chopsticks down, “I met someone at work.”

“What! What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh my– you’re trying to get rid of me to have—” you stared at her, mouth wide open from shock, “sex,” you mouthed. 

“Oh grow up y/n, I’m an adult, where do you think you came from.”

“Uh– rude.”

“I’m just saying, this is your last year in high school, if next year you want to stay at camp, you can.”

“And you’d be fine with it?”

She nodded.

“What if I want to stay here, at home?”

“Then you’d stay here, as long as you want, this is your home as well.”

“I’ll– I’ll think about it.”

And then it was finally time to leave for camp again. Your mom drove you to the airport and you left with your suitcase in hand. It was the longest flight ever, and the cab seemed to be driving even slower than a snail. An old lady on foot was faster than this, but then you were finally there. 

“Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the cab driver asked, seeing the empty road.

“Yes,” you gave him the money, “keep the change, bye.”

When you arrived at camp, Chiron was waiting for you at the entrance already, and you greeted him happily. 

“How was the trip to camp?” 

“Great. Long and tiring for sure, but I’m so excited too.”

“Good, we’re going to leave soon, you can go put your things in your cabin first.”

The first one to spot you was Cornelia, and she came running to hug you. And then Will came in very quickly to give you a hug as well. 

“I missed you guys so much,” you smiled. 

“I wish you were staying here all the time,” Will said. “I’m all alone at the infirmary.”

“You’re leaving him alone?” you gasped at Michael. 

“He kicked me out! Said you had a whole system going on there and I wasn’t following it correctly.”

“He also wasn’t doing karaoke afternoons with me,” Will told you.

“How dare he. That’s ‘cause he has no taste.”

“I can hear you,” Michael stood beside you.

“Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation.”

“Yeah do you mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Will repeated. 

It felt great to be at camp – it felt safe, familiar and comforting. You put your suitcase beside your bed, and grabbed some chocolate bars  from your backpack and put them in your pocket. Will, who stayed by your side, pleaded with his eyes to get one too and you couldn’t resist. 

“I’ll give you more later,” you promised him.

You left your cabin with your siblings as it was time to leave camp. Everyone was on their way to the entrance. You looked around, hoping to catch Clarisse, and there she was, way ahead of you. You turned around, facing your siblings and after a brief “see you up there”, you ran off. 

Clarisse was talking to her brother, and she looked around for you. She was expecting you to be beside Chiron at the entrance, but you weren't. Maybe you were late? When suddenly, she felt someone jump on her back, and her immediate response was to grab their arm and throw them on the ground. 

“Ugh! Motherfucker,” you moaned, laying on the ground, with Clarisse holding down on your arm on the ground. 

“What the hell!” Clarisse immediately let go and helped you get up. “Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you rubbed your arm. “Why would you do that?”

“You jumped on me! Are you ok?” Clarisse worried. 

You stared at her, dumbstruck. 

“No! I’m not!”

Just when she was about to talk, Chiron called for all the campers to gather around, and you left without giving her the chance to speak. Your whole back was aching, and you tried not to think about it too much, but that was impossible because of Clarisse’s strength. Clarisse tried to grab your arm to slow you down, but you shook her off. Then, Michael and Lee just had to get involved. 

“Butt off Clarisse,” Michael squeezed himself between you two. “Didn’t you do enough by crushing y/n to dust? So much for being friends,” he snickered. 

“Fuck off Michael unless you want to wake up in the morning missing your front row teeth,” Clarisse spat.

Michael did back away a little, bumping into you. 

“How can you be friends with her,” he turned around to look at you. 

Clarisse has been wondering the same thing for the past few days. The Apollo cabin and the Ares cabin weren’t known to be friendly with each other. They tolerated each other at best when they were on the same team for Capture the Flag, but that was it. And when you left, she started to wonder about your friendship. Maybe you’d forget about her once you’re back at home. And the first week, all she could think about was when – or if – you’d reach out. 

But every Sunday, at 9:00am she’d receive a package with your recording and pictures and candy for your siblings and her. You had never given her any reason to doubt your relationship, but not everyone in your cabin, or at camp, were thinking that way. Michael had been one of those people, always wondering loud and clear about your friendship. So that was Clarisse’s final straw. 

She grabbed Michael’s collar, ready to punch him, but Lee tried to calm the situation down. 

“Clarisse, please don’t,” Lee grabbed Michael’s hands, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He clearly does. He’s been talking about it nonstop for the past few weeks.”

You frowned. You looked at Michael, then Lee and finally at Clarisse. The pure rage in her eyes would make anyone run away, but you stepped up.

“Clarisse,” you put your hands on her arms, “it’s fine, let go please. Chiron is waiting for us.”

She locked her eyes with you, clearly still upset about the situation, and pushed Michael away, but Lee was behind to hold him back. 

“Clarisse, what was that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. See you.” 

And she walked away, leaving you confused. You turned around, giving a questioning look at your brothers, but Lee only mouthed a ‘I don’t know’ and Michael avoided your gaze. You were ready to argue with them, but Will came running, telling you they were ready to leave.

The trip to the Empire State Building was long, especially with Clarisse ignoring you. You tried talking to Michael, but he was also ignoring you, and suddenly, everyone at camp lost their ability to talk. Annoyed, you went to the back of the bus, where no one was. But then Will came. 

“What’s wrong? You look like Clarisse all the time. Frowning and sulking.”

“I’m not!” you relaxed your face. “Also while we're talking about Clarisse, what’s that about how we’re not supposed to be friends?”

Will grimaced, and looked away for a second. 

“People have been wondering about how you, sweet and fun Apollo daughter, could be friends with ruthless Clarisse La Rue, Ares daughter. Because the Apollo cabin does not get along with the Ares cabin, like at all.”

“And Clarisse was upset? Over people’s opinions about us?”

“Well…” Will stretched that vowel for far too long. “You know people, and how they love to gossip. And somehow it went from enemy cabins to how there are better friends to have… than Clarisse. And how she’s not… worth it,” he hesitated. “And she only brings you trouble… things like that.”

You were too stunned to give any type of answers. 

“Clarisse doesn’t look like someone who cares about those kind of rumours and speculations, but insecurities are created by people’s opinion,” Will said, “that’s what Lee told me when people were talking about me and I started to feel bad.”

“What were people talking about?” you frowned. 

“I’m not as good as you all with my archery skills.”

“That’s not–, I mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I know, Lee and Cornelia and Michael and everyone at our cabin was there to tell me that.”

“Okay, and they’re right.”

“I’m saying… maybe Clarisse doesn't have that sort of support system. And maybe she is starting to feel like other people are right.”

“Oh.”

You looked at where Clarisse was sitting, in the middle, sitting next to her sister. It was a four seat table, and her three siblings were all laughing and shouting, but Clarisse wasn’t. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed. 

You saw her frown and turned her head in your direction, but when she saw you looking at her, she quickly turned her head to her siblings. 

“You should talk to her, and clear things up. Because Clarisse is nice. I like her.”

“Since when? You never talk.”

“Clarisse is nice to me, she always has been since we’ve met that one time,” he admitted. “I think she deserves good friends. Like us.”

“I think so too,” you agreed. 

When it was time to get off the bus, everyone rushed out, separating you from Clarisse even further. Well, the talk had to wait. 

The trip to the 600th floor took too long. Every cabin went one by one since it couldn’t hold the whole camp at once. The Ares cabin went before the Apollo cabin, but Clarisse stood straight and looked ahead. She had her back turned to you, even once inside the elevator, but at the last minute she turned around and locked eyes with you. 

“We’ll talk,” you mouthed clearly. 

There was no escaping you. When it was your turn, you stepped in last so you could leave first. It took forever to reach floor 600. And just as you expected, there was no sign of Clarisse. She stayed close to her brothers. 

Each cabin had to do a presentation in front of the gods, and it was the worst thing for them and for you all too. Every time they clapped at the end, you knew it wasn’t as a compliment but more as a cheers to being closer to the end. 

After that, there was a big feast. The gods watching you eat and burn your food for them – it was weird and you couldn’t keep your eyes off your father. His tanned skin, golden hair, and bright smile. 

“Blinding isn’t he,” Lee said. 

“Yeah, I should’ve brought my sunglasses. Do you ever talk?”

“Not much. They don’t come just to hang around their kids.”

“He kinda looks like a classmate I’d have if people at my school weren’t all dressed like they just left prison. He looks young.”

 “You’ll get used to it eventually,” Lee shrugged. 

After dinner, campers just hang around talking, and some of the gods would come and talk to their children. You looked around and spotted the Hermes cabin staying together, far away from the main event, and then you tried to look for Clarisse, but she was nowhere. You turned around and bumped into your father. You quickly stepped away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“It’s alright. How have you been? Have you been settling well with everything?” he smiled.

“Um… Yes.”

What more could you say? You weren’t going to start saying the truth to this god that happened to be your father. 

“How is your mother?”

“Great,” you nodded, smiling. “She’s been seeing someone you know, after,” you looked at your wrist and pretended there was a watch, “eighteen years of having no one.”

“y/n,” he sighed looking away, “that’s just how things work with us gods. She knew from the start who I was, I told her.”

“It’s fine. I was merely stating a fact.”

Please somebody end this conversation, you prayed. 

“Well, well, well,” someone slapped your dad’s shoulder.

“Ares,” your dad greeted him. “This is y/n, my daughter.”

“Ah, the girl my daughter has been seeing.”

Apollo whipped his head around, beaming at you. 

“You have a girlfriend?” he held you in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. Way to go, who and where is the lucky girl.”

You stared at him, and then at Ares, mouth wide open in shock.

“I– I don’t! It’s– It’s not!” you stuttered. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Clarisse is my friend, who is a girl indeed. So yeah girl,” you paused, “friend. I haven’t been seeing her, I’ve been seeing her as in, she lives at camp and so did I during the summer!”

“Oh,” he let go of you. “My bad. You could’ve been more clear,” he looked at Ares. “Well I have to go now,” he walked away. “See you soon, y/n.”

Ares didn’t follow your father. He stayed with you, staring at you. Clarisse looked at you the same way when you first arrived at camp. 

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you admitted. 

“Well, I am the war god. They had to have shown you my picture somewhere between those classes they have,” he nodded toward Chiron.

“No, it’s not that,” you frowned. 

Meanwhile, Clarisse was talking to Mark when she spotted Apollo leaving in a hurry, and she looked at where he came from. And her eyes spotted you immediately, and then she saw her father standing tall, towering over you. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled before leaving the conversation without any notice. 

She rushed to where you stood. There was no way she was going to let you alone with her father. 

“... on twitter!” you shouted, hiding a smile. “Clarisse, I was just telling your father about us knowing each other through twitter!”

“What?” she mumbled, pulling you closer to her. 

“I’m always starting fights with him on twitter, because he’s always talking shit and nonsense. He doesn’t know me though.”

“Wait–,” Ares interrupted. “Are you that fan account of that blonde singer?”

“Yes!” you laughed.

He snickered, then stopped and turned to Clarisse. 

“Clarisse.”

“Dad.”

Then he stared at you, before going back to Clarisse. 

“You can leave now,” he gave you a brief look. “I want to talk to Clarisse. Alone.”

Clarisse, who the whole time didn’t let go of your hand, squeezed it. Hard. Before letting go. But you didn’t move, slightly worried.

“I–,” you started, but Clarisse turned to you, face blank.

“I’ll find you after this, go.”

You nodded without arguing and left. You quickly spotted your siblings and joined them, listening to what they were saying. You’d glance at Clarisse’s direction, and all you could see was Clarisse nodding, looking at her feet. Ares was in his human form, but even like that he looked impressive. He was tall and broad, he had these eyes you didn’t want to look straight into from fear. He gave Clarisse a final, firm, pat on the shoulder before leaving her there. She stood there for a full minute before straightening her back and searched for you in the ocean of people. But before she could find you, you were already on your way to her. 

“Are you okay?” you immediately asked. 

“I’m fine.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He…” she hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”

You stood there, torn between insisting and letting it go. If you insisted when she wasn’t ready to talk, then you’d be a pushy friend who doesn’t respect any boundaries. But if you didn’t, then maybe it’d seem like you didn’t care. 

“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Well, if you don’t have anything more to say, I do.”

“y/n…” Clarisse sighed.

“No! You ignored me the whole day when I just came back for you. And then that thing that happened with Michael,” she rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, “what was that about?”

“It doesn’t—”

“Stop saying that! It does matter. It matters to me how you feel. About this and everything else.”

Clarisse stared at you. Her eyes pleading with you to let it go. 

“I just…” you sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. And I don’t—” you groaned in frustration. “Will told me,” you admitted, “about what people have been saying and what Michael has been saying,” you found it hard to find your words. “I– I want you to know that’s not what I think. And I—.”

You should’ve been rehearsing this. You took a deep breath.

“They’re not right about this. And I don’t want you to think that they are. Because you, Clarisse La Rue, are the best friend anyone could ask for. And because of you, I’m better than ever. I’ve been a better fighter because of you, I’ve been a better friend because of you. You taught me how to stand up for myself, and I’ve just been happier since I’ve met you. So I don’t want you to listen to what people have to say.” 

Clarisse still hadn’t said anything, which was excruciating. Just as you were about to continue ranting about this, she pulled you in her arms. You wrapped your arms around her, and put your head on her shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and let go. 

It didn’t last long enough, but you’ll take what she gave you. 

“Are we ok?” 

“We’re ok,” Clarisse nodded. 

The rest of the evening was spent with you sitting on some big rocks that served as chairs, catching up. She’d tell about all the times she won at Capture the Flag, she’d tell you about the indigestion everyone had due to food poisoning that one day, she’d tell you about that time she had to go to the infirmary and only let Will heal her because there was no way she’d let Michael help her. She’d tell you about every little thing you’d miss during those months when you went home, and you listened to everything she had to say, with your head resting on her shoulder.

“Oh gods,” you straightened your back, pointing ahead of you. “Is that your dad with Aphrodite?”

“Fuck,” she cringed. “Are they making out?”

“I mean– he definitely is. It’s weird,” you looked away, then went back to staring at them.

“Stop staring at my dad sucking the goddess of love’s face.”

“Are you sure he’s your dad though? Cause Aphrodite looks exactly like you.”

Clarisse whipped her head around, eyes wide, staring at you.

“What?” she breathed. 

“What, what?”

She paused, still staring at you. 

“Nothing,” she smiled, and then looked back, “they’re gone.”

“Finally. It’s gross to make out in front of your children like that.”

All the campers spent the night in Olympus, all sleeping in the same area. The room looked exactly like inside a normal cabin at camp, with bunk beds and cupboards, and for once, friends from different cabins were allowed to sleep together. You dragged Clarisse with you, where the Apollo cabin stayed. 

“We’re all used to staying together,” you explained, “but you can stay with me. Are you sleeping on the top bunk or bottom one?”

“Bottom one,” Clarisse sat on the bed. 

“Ooh,” Cornelia sat next to Clarisse,” so does y/n.” 

“It’s fine, it’s only for one night,” you waved it off. 

“Did you see Clarisse’s dad making out in the open with their mother,” Cornelia pointed at the Aphrodite children. 

“We did!” you squealed, squeezing yourself between the two of them.

“I think everyone did,” Clarisse added. 

“Did you notice how Aphrodite looked exactly like Clarisse,” you looked at Cornelia.

Her eyes widened, and shook her head slightly. Clarisse was leaning against the bed frame, her legs crossed on the bed, smirking. You frowned.

“What?” you mouthed. 

“We’ll come back”, Cornelia dragged you away. 

“What?”

“Do you know what it means to perceive Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, passion and lust, as someone you know?” she asked. 

“As someone I know? What does that mean?”

“Aphrodite doesn’t look like Clarisse,” she explained, “you perceive the goddess as such because you think Clarisse is those things.”

“Oh,” you paused. “Is that common knowledge or?” 

You hoped not. 

“Yeah it is, so you probably shouldn’t say those things in front of Clarisse if you’re not…”

“If I’m not what?”

“Nevermind.”

“I already told her, twice now with what happened a few minutes ago. Oh gods, couldn’t you have taught me this earlier!” you panicked. “What–What does that mean though? Do I– Am I—,” you gave a quick glance at Clarisse. 

“I don’t know! I mean, you did ask her on a date like the first week you arrived at camp, what could that mean?”

“I don’t know? I think she’s pretty, and– and apparently I think she could look exactly like the goddess of love herself. It’s—,” you took a deep breath. 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to know.”

“I think,” you hesitated. “I don’t know!” you whined. “Clarisse is nice to me, she’s fun to be around, she’s pushing me upwards and I think I might– maybe– perhaps have a tiny crush on her, yes,” you admitted. 

“Aw,” she beamed, “I think you’d make such a cute couple.”

“Calm your tits down,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “I don’t know if this will ever go further than us being friends. Now look natural, and never tell anyone else this. Okay, let’s go back.”

Clarisse was talking to Will when you two came back, but they abruptly stopped. Will stood so Cornelia and you could sit. 

“What was that about?” Cornelia asked them.

“It’s a secret,” Will smiled. 

“We were talking about how sunshine over there thought I looked like a goddess,” Clarisse grinned. 

Will tried to hide his laugh.

“No one told me!” you hid your face in your hand from embarrassment. “You could’ve stopped me the first time I said it,” you accused Clarisse, who was still laughing. 

“The first?” Will interrupted. 

“Both times in front of Clarisse,” Cornelia added. “It was hard to watch,” she teased you. 

Time went by very fast when you’re surrounded by friends and family, because it was already time to go to sleep. The lights disappeared, and you climbed onto your bed, and whispered Clarisse a goodnight before closing your eyes.

The silence was deafening. You couldn’t fall asleep, you needed white noises, music, anything but this. You tossed around, left your right leg outside the blanket, but then it was too cold, so you put it back inside, and tossed around again. 

“What the hell y/n,” Clarisse whispered loudly.

“Sorry, I can’t fall asleep.”

“Why?” she sighed.

“It’s too quiet, and I’m cold.”

Clarisse let out a bigger sigh, before getting up.

“Where’re you going?” you sat up.

“Get down here, and bring your blanket.”

You did as she told you. You put the blanket on your shoulders and climbed down. 

“Get in the bed,” she pointed at hers. 

You did as she told you. And then she climbed back inside her bed, next to you, with both blankets on you.  The beds on Olympus were bigger than the ones at camp, so it was no problem to fit you two in one single bed. 

“Better?” 

“Yes,” you nodded.

Clarisse fell asleep very quickly, like always. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. But it took more time with you, you were used to looking at your phone until your eyelids were too tired to stay open, but now you couldn’t. You had nothing, only Clarisse sleeping peacefully next to you. 

She slept on her back, with her head tilted toward you. Unlike her, you slept on your side, so you turned your back to her, and closed your eyes. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Clarisse arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to her. And then, in an instant, you were gone. 

The happiness from staying at camp didn’t last long as it was already time to go home and say goodbye to everyone. Your holidays came to an end and so did your stay at camp, and just like last time, Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance. 

“So,” you started, ‘I guess we’ll see each other next summer?”

“Yea,” she nodded. “Next summer.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you promised, “and I’ll keep sending you updates, though I don’t know if I’ll continue to be as regular as before. I do have my high school diploma to get, and I’ll have less time but I’ll do my best!”

“It’s okay, good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, but still didn’t leave. 

It was too soon, and it felt like you barely spent any time with Clarisse and your siblings. 

“Did you say goodbye to Will and the others?” Clarisse asked.

“Yea, before I left the cabin I did. It sucks that I have to, but–,” you hesitated, “maybe I won’t have to next year.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know yet, but… it’s a possibility.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “okay.”

“Okay. Well… I have to go now.”

“Okay.”

You two stood there, without moving. But then you lunged forward and hugged her tightly. 

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered. 

And you let go, and left before she could give you her answer. 

One recording per week became one every other week, and by December, it was only one per month. Clarisse didn’t send anything from December to February either, but then on a random day in March, you received a package from Hermes Express with Clarisse’s usual pictures from camp, without any notes explaining what happened those last few months. You didn’t mention it either, but you gave yourself a quick reminder to ask her when you’d be back at camp. 

“It’s almost time, are you ready?” your mom asked.

“Yep, a minute!”

Your exams were done, you didn’t have the results yet but that didn’t matter – your mom promised she’d send them to you once she’d receive them so you could leave for camp peacefully. You packed lightly – a third of your belongings were already at camp – and went inside the cab your mom had called for you.

“Be careful okay,” she kissed your temple. “And write to me about your decision, okay?”

“I will, I promise,” you gave her a last quick hug and closed the cab door.

The journey to camp felt familiar now, you’d done it a few times already so it was a stress free trip. So you kept your suitcase close to you, you turned your phone off, and walked. 

But something was off when you got closer to the entrance. It was loud. Louder than usual, and there were more people at the border everywhere as well, which were usually empty. You crossed the entrance, and most campers were wearing their gears, and weapons. 

“What the hell,” you whispered. 

You quickly noticed Clarisse, giving orders to campers, and walking around. When she turned around, she spotted you and ran to you, very quickly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you were going to be here!” she shot. 

“I wanted to surprise you! Why are you yelling at me!” you shouted back. 

Clarisse stepped back and mouthed a quick apology.

“A lot of things happened while you were gone,” she explained.

“Like when you stopped sending me anything?”

She nodded reluctantly. 

“A new camper came in, got claimed by Poseidon, and then got his quest to retrieve Zeus’ stolen bolt, and…” she hesitated. “We know who stole it in the first place. Luke.”

“Luke?” your eyes widened. “As in Castellan, Hermes' head– former head counsellor?” 

She nodded again. 

“And now Thalia’s tree has been poisoned, meaning the camp’s borders are weakened and we have to keep them safe ourselves.”

“Okay,” you proceeded with this information as fast as you could. “Okay.”

“I was worried sick for the past few days! You didn’t send me anything like last time. I didn’t know when you were going to be here, or if you’d gotten attacked and died.” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!” you argued. 

“I–,” she hesitated, “I didn’t want to burden you with your studies.”

“They’re not important, this is obviously my priority and much more important.”

“Okay,” she looked around. “Stay beside me, I want to keep an eye on you whenever a battle is going to break out.”

You frowned.

“That’s cute, but I’d be much more useful if I stayed with the rest of the Apollo cabin where we’re needed. I’m a great fighter, I know,” you said before she could interrupt, “thanks to you, but I’m much better at archery.”

She stared at you, then looked down. 

“I can’t…” she whispered, “I can’t protect you if you’re this far away from me.”

“Clarisse,” you cupped her face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You worry about staying alive, and I’ll do the same. It’s going to be fine. Remember, you taught me everything I know.”

She nodded reluctantly. 

“Okay.”

“Where’s your spear by the way?” you asked when she walked you to your cabin. 

She grimaced, and sighed.

“Gone.”

“Gone? Wha–.”

“Percy Jackson,” she spat. “The new kid, I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”

You threw your stuff inside your cabin, and changed your clothes before walking out with Clarisse still outside, waiting for you. Clarisse was about to talk, but was interrupted by screams from campers at the entrance. 

You looked at each other and ran off to where the screams were, and saw it. Two immense bulls – colchis Bulls – coming straight towards campers. 

“Go find Lee, I’ll handle this from here. He’ll know what to do,” Clarisse ordered before walking away.

“Clarisse!” you shouted before she was out of range. She turned her head. “Be careful.”

She nodded. 

“Don’t die,” she added before leaving. 

[awakenedsalamander]

This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.

In a lot of Chronicles of Darkness games, there are “minor templates” for players to take for their characters. These are basically lesser types of supernatural beings— undeniably marked by magic, but not transformed by it like the main templates are. So instead of being a werewolf, you might be a Wolf-Blooded, i.e., not the monster your stronger cousins are, but still recognizably having a connection to that world.

Again, a bunch of games have these. Mage has Sleepwalkers (and Proximi), Vampire has ghouls, Geist has the Absent, Demon has stigmatics, etc.

In Changeling: The Lost, there are the Fae-Touched. We’ll get to them in a bit. First, more on Lost.

In Lost, like many stories about faeries, oaths and vows are very important. They are, in the form of magical Contracts, the source of many fae powers. Changeling have a neat ability to make any spoken promise binding, invoking the force of the Wyrd to force even minor vows to be taken seriously. And many changelings are taken by the True Fae by getting ensnared in some kind of oath.

See, if you didn’t know, Changeling: The Lost is about humans taken to the home of the True Fae, and then transformed into changelings as the True Fae torment them. The game is very much about the way trauma changes a person, and how even recovering from trauma still doesn’t bring you back to the way you were— you’re healed, but you’re not the same.

And much like trauma changes a person, it isolates them too. Lost represents this in the fiction with fetches— the faerie-forged simulacra left behind in the stolen person’s wake, acting the roles of parent, sibling, friend, and so on while the original person is actually suffering with no escape.

But the Fae-Touched won’t stand for that.

Because while Changeling: The Lost recognizes that many promises aren’t serious, that when people swear, “I’ll always be there for you,” they don’t always live up to that, it also recognizes that some promises are different.

The Fae-Touched are the mortals who remember the words they swore, and will not ignore them. They can tell, in their dreams, through the nagging impulses they get in their waking moments, that the person they promised to help needs them now more than ever. They are lead by the Wyrd into the land of faerie to live up to that promise, and they follow it gladly.

A Fae-Touched is the father who knows the smiling fetch who claims to be his daughter isn’t the real thing, and that somewhere the girl he swore to protect is in mortal danger— and so he delves into a world of dreams and nightmares to bring her back.

A Fae-Touched is the woman who fights off briar wolves in a mad, twisting forest so she can find her wife, because when she said “I will never abandon you,” she meant it.

A Fae-Touched is the young man staring down a Lord of the True Fae and refusing to yield. He and his brother went through hell together years ago when their parents died, and they promised one another then that they’d always stand by each other, and some monster in a crown can’t change that.

Not every changeling is helped by a Fae-Touched, and not all of the Fae-Touched succeed. Sometimes you have to claw your own way back home. But God, what a beautiful concept.

I know that Changeling: The Lost is very dark, and the reason I love the Fae-Touched isn’t really because they’re the light to that darkness— I think that simplifies it too much.

I like the Fae-Touched not because they take away the darkness, but because they remind me we don’t always have to face the darkness alone.

Sometimes, when you think there’s no point going on, when you think it will just be the pain and the fear again and again and again… it’s not true. Because sometimes, maybe even more often than we think, there’s someone out there who knows you need help. And they ready themselves, they set out into the darkness, saying only,

“This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.”

[biaonww]

"something about you" rin itoshi based • angst based on not-so-bf trope <3

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

watching rin itoshi’s match is always mesmerizing. he shines in destroying things that are close to him.

it’s complete monstrosity when he plays, which is the complete opposite of his brother sae’s gameplay. 

a completely calculated person, while rin is a monster. 

but still—

why does rin still shine so much?

why does he stand out the most in your eyes, as if he was a twinkling star in the sky you would wish on?

why is he so captivating, yet always out of your hand?

bothered by your thoughts, rin wins his match. of course, another easy win for him. 

… but its noisy. it hurts your ears. 

announcers announcing his win.. interviewers excitingly waiting for him to get out of the stadium and start asking him questions… the horn sounds and people shrieking….

but everything goes quiet when he manages to find you straight away. 

no matter how many people are in the stalls—

his eyes always seem to capture you.

those beautiful eyes that could even challenge a diamonds beauty.

but there he is again, confusing you. 

he’s looking at you pleadingly, right after he scored the last shot.

shouldn’t he be focused on the crowd, and the way they scream his name in joy?

did he maybe finally realize that he left you mesmerized every single time?

did he maybe finally realize that you were always admiring him from afar?

or will he push you away again when he gives you mixed signals?

you sigh thinking of it, so you stand up, going to the exit of the stadium.

but once you finally reach the corridor, you see rin. 

so you pause from walking, while he jogs towards you.

“you should celebrate your win, itoshi.” you remark. 

“don’t call me itoshi.” he says in a tone that sounds like he’s still trying to catch his breath, while gripping your arm tightly.

(but of course, not in a way that would hurt you. he wouldn’t want that.). 

“i think it is only proper of me to call you itoshi. considering you never let me see what’s under your disguise.”

“i said don’t call me itoshi.”

“fine then.”

“— you know what, rin? i actually think it’s better if you keep pushing me away.”

“i mean i don’t know if you’re just another unreachable dream, or a one-in-a-million person i can achieve.”

“but i also don’t know if you’ll destroy me. which i’m scared of.”

“after all, you said everything that grows close to you soon tears down.”

you look at the floor, eyes slowly but surely becoming watery. 

rin stays quiet, his gaze softening when you immediately look down. 

“… if you’re scared of me destroying you, then i’ll try and treat you like a delicate flower.”

“if you ever get scared, i’ll stay by your side to keep you safe.”

“if you hate the noise, then i’ll cover your ears for you.”

“if i don’t show my true self to you, then i’ll lower my guard for you.”

“just don’t leave like everyone does. not like nii-san.”

“but instead stay. i’m humbly asking you to stay right now.”

“i’m sorry that i give you mixed signals. but give me a chance to prove myself to you, please?”

“i’m not perfect. i’m not the best yet. love is foreign to me. we may have fights and disagreements when we’re together. but for you, i’ll try.”

you finally look up at him, the tears in your eyes spilling out already.

but he wipes them for you, and looks at you so fondly. 

“then why couldn’t you do all this in the first place, you idiot?” you mumble. 

“i’m sorry.”

“but what’s your answer? will you accept me, or not?”

he chuckles softly, slowly letting down his facade for you. and only you. 

“… you know it’s a yes, rin.”

— fin.

now that im rereading this, it actually looks so SHITTY WTF... but i hope its good enough to be posted </3 reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated pls !! (btw, tags kinda foreshadow the fic so hehe)

[marichive]

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 : 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

Writing / roleplay prompts collected from the POV chapters of Daenerys Targaryen in A Dance with Dragons , the fifth book of the ASOIAF saga. Feel free to adjust pronouns / etc. as needed.

tw: dark & mature themes, death, violence, suggestive / sexual content

❝ There is no need for you to see this. ❞

❝ He died for me. ❞

❝ It is bad luck to touch the dead. ❞

❝ They are only girls. ❞

❝ The blood of the dragon does not weep. ❞

❝ I am still at war, only now I am fighting shadows. ❞

❝ They are soldiers, not warriors. ❞

❝ Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation … not to unravel secrets or ask questions. ❞

❝ I’ll see them when I’m dressed. ❞

❝ A crown should not sit easy on the head. ❞

❝ You are so radiant today I fear to look on you. ❞

❝ Women do not forget. Women do not forgive. ❞

❝ Does he believe a pair of pretty slippers will win my hand? ❞

❝ If he proposes that I wed this man again, I’ll throw a slipper at his head. ❞

❝ I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war. ❞

❝ Why, it must be because you have no other purpose but to plague me. How many times have I refused you? ❞

❝ I see that you are eloquent as well as beautiful. I am quite persuaded. ❞

❝ You take too much on yourself. ❞

❝ Help me dress. I’ll have a cup of wine as well, to clear my head. ❞

❝ Come sleep with me. Dawn will not come for hours yet. ❞

❝ He was a good brother. ❞

❝ Say the word, my sweet, and I will send you from this awful place. ❞

❝ I would sooner stay with you. I feel safe when I’m with you. ❞

❝ I want to keep you safe. ❞

❝ No one ever kept me safe when I was little. ❞

❝ I want to protect you, but . . . it is so hard, to be strong. ❞

❝ I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though, I am all they have. ❞

❝ We’ll both sleep, and dream of sweeter days. ❞

❝ Who would ever dare to love a dragon? ❞

❝ There is no woman more lovely than you. Only a blind man could believe otherwise. ❞

❝ A bath will help soothe me. ❞

❝ How did you get past my guards? ❞

❝ Your guards never saw me. ❞

❝ Why should I fear him? ❞

❝ If you have some warning for me, speak plainly. ❞

❝ Remember who you are. ❞

❝ I was praying. ❞

❝ Prophecies are treacherous. ❞

❝ If this is truly what my people wish, do I have the right to deny it to them? ❞

❝ Truth was never welcome at that court. ❞

❝ He was a traitor who met a traitor’s end. ❞

❝ He played a part in your father’s fall, but he bore you no ill will. ❞

❝ The king wanted you killed, but he spoke against it. ❞

❝ You think they would harm me? ❞

❝ I should have seen it coming. Was I so blind, or did I close my eyes willfully, so I would not have to see the price of power? ❞

❝ I would give them back to you if I could, but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. ❞

❝ What have I unleashed upon the world? ❞

❝ If they are monsters, so am I. ❞

❝ Are they meant to inflame me? ❞

❝ Would my lord prefer something sweeter? ❞

❝ I will not trust you, but I need you. ❞

❝ A craven’s knife can slay a queen as easily as a hero’s. ❞

❝ He is playing games with me. But I can play as well. ❞

❝ I do not wish to speak of him. ❞

❝ Let us speak instead of love, of dreams and desire. ❞

❝ I am drunk with the sight of you. ❞

❝ Why did you abandon me? ❞

❝ I am almost certain that I asked you for your hand. Begged you, even. ❞

❝ You gave up too easily. ❞

❝ I must marry, all agree. ❞

❝ I am not so foolish as to wed a man who finds a fruit platter more enticing than my breast. ❞

❝ If you will not take me for your husband, I am content to be your slave. ❞

❝ I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No one wants to be owned. ❞

❝ Is that meant to frighten me? I lived in fear for years. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night. ❞

❝ Let me stay and help persuade you. ❞

❝ You look . . . weary. Are you sleeping? ❞

❝ You know how much I value your wisdom. ❞

❝ You need a king beside you to help you bear these burdens. ❞

❝ Have you no smile for me? Am I as fearful as all that? ❞

❝ I always grow solemn in the presence of such beauty. ❞

❝ I have never wanted war. ❞

❝ You have not said you love me. ❞

❝ That is not the answer of a man in love. ❞

❝ What is love? Desire? No man could ever look on you and not desire you. ❞

❝ A new time has come, and new things are possible. Marry me. ❞

❝ Kiss me as if I were your wife. ❞

❝ No. I do not love you. ❞

❝ It’s him I want, not you. ❞

❝ One day all men must die, but it serves no good to dwell on death. I prefer to take each day as it comes. ❞

❝ Words are wind, even words like love and peace. I put more trust in deeds. ❞

❝ So it seems that I may wed again. Are you happy for me? ❞

❝ A queen belongs not to herself, but to the realm. ❞

❝ Marriage or carnage, those are my choices. ❞

❝ Did he wed for love or duty? ❞

❝ I know he was very fond of her. ❞

❝ I could become fond of him, in time. ❞

❝ I need to change, to make myself beautiful. ❞

❝ You have grown more beautiful in my absence. How is that possible? ❞

❝ I have missed you so much. ❞

❝ They never told me you were here, or I might have played the fool and sent for you at once. ❞

❝ I have only one urgent need. You. ❞

❝ A man surrounded by foes cannot defend himself. No, when faced with many enemies, choose the weakest, kill him, ride over him and escape. ❞

❝ He is as bold as he is bloody. ❞

❝ He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. ❞

❝ Do you take me for the Butcher King? ❞

❝ Better the butcher than the meat. ❞

❝ All kings are butchers. Are queens so different? ❞

❝ Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king’s bed and pop out sons for him. ❞

❝ Have you forgotten who I am? ❞

❝ He would make a monster of me. A butcher queen. ❞

❝ There is blood on my hands, too, and on my heart. ❞

❝ I am tired of hearing what you will not do. ❞

❝ Will they joust for me? I should like that. ❞

❝ He plays you for a fool. Do you want a serpent in your bed? ❞

❝ You could not have saved them. ❞

❝ Oh, gods, what have I done? Have I sent him to his death? ❞

❝ I have no more help to give. ❞

❝ I will not turn away from them. A queen must know the sufferings of her people. ❞

❝ I cannot heal them, but I can show them that I care. ❞

❝ Shall I wash your hair? ❞

❝ All those pearls will make me rattle when I walk. ❞

❝ The pearls symbolize fertility. The more a woman wears, the more healthy children she will bear. ❞

❝ Your clothes are stained with blood. Take them off. ❞

❝ Only if you do the same. ❞

❝ I thought you would be the one to betray me. I thought . . . ❞

❝ Promise me that you will never turn against me. I could not bear that. Promise me. ❞

❝ I wanted you from the first time I saw you. ❞

❝ You boasted that you’d had a hundred women. ❞

❝ He has a sellsword’s conscience. That is to say, none at all. ❞

❝ I would give up my crown if he asked it of me. ❞

❝ If I gave up my crown, he would not want me. ❞

❝ I do not want this night to end. ❞

❝ Marry me instead. ❞

❝ You know I cannot do that. ❞

❝ You are a queen. You can do what you like. ❞

❝ Marry me, and we can have all the nights forever. ❞

❝ We cannot wed, my love. You know why. ❞

❝ Once I am wed it will be high treason to desire me. ❞

❝ It has been too long since I’ve killed a man. Might be I should seek out your betrothed. ❞

❝ Are you unwell? In the black of night I heard you scream. ❞

❝ It was the wind that you heard screaming. ❞

❝ It was just a dream. Go back to sleep. ❞

❝ She dares say that in open court? ❞

❝ That smile has won many a maiden’s heart, I’ll wager. ❞

❝ Please, you must not tease me. ❞

❝ Come back to bed and kiss me. ❞

❝ The queen your mother was always mindful of her duty. ❞

❝ A knight is no fit consort for a princess of royal blood. ❞

❝ I never knew my father. I want to know everything about him. The good and . . . the rest. ❞

❝ If he loved you, he would come and carry you off. ❞

❝ How did this happen, that I am drinking and smiling with men I’d sooner flay? ❞

❝ This is peace, so why does it taste so much like defeat? ❞

❝ I want no gifts from you. ❞

❝ There is no honor in him, only hunger . . . for gold, for glory, for blood. ❞

❝ Every child knows its mother. ❞

❝ They are dragons, and so am I. ❞

❝ You have more enemies than you know. ❞

❝ Gods grant that we have made a son tonight. ❞

❝ I heard you crying. ❞

❝ Crying? I was not crying. Why would I cry? ❞

❝ Stay. I do not wish to be alone. ❞

❝ Remind me that there is still good in the world. ❞

❝ I will have you beside me, what other protection do I need? ❞

❝ How much of this do you believe? ❞

❝ I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. ❞

❝ He takes great pride in his . . . his swordsmanship. ❞

❝ He boasts of bedding me, you mean. ❞

❝ Once I dreamed of flying. ❞

❝ Men are mad and gods are madder. ❞

❝ You are dead. ❞

❝ You never mourned me. It is hard to die unmourned. ❞

❝ I loved you once. ❞

❝ I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. ❞

❝ You lingered in a place that you were never meant to be. ❞

❝ Home was all I ever wanted. ❞

❝ You wanted me. ❞

❝ I was tired. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. ❞

❝ Remember who you are, what you were made to be. ❞

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I was just babysitting a friends toddler a while ago. He was four and already LOVED transformers. He expecially loved Bumblebee, and got this mini figure of a Bumblebee (I forgot what version unfortunately) that he thinks is like a guardian angel that can chase away nightmares and monsters and even turn him into a transformer one day as well! And this was SOO cute! So may I request a scenario of G1, TFP, TFA, as well as ROTB Bumblebee meeting a human equivalent of a sparkling that absolutely ADORED him and think he can do anything? Who even claims when he grows up he wants to be a transformer too just like Bee and fight alongside him one day?

All of this... so CUTE! First time I'm doing a multi version of the same character, so hopefully this turns out good! If this isn't what you wanted please let me know!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy the Toddler wanting to be like Bumblebee

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

G1, TFP, TFA, ROTB

G1

Bumblebee is flustered by the toddler wanting to be just like him when they grow up.

He makes them an honorary Autobot.

He chuckles to himself when they tell him about their dream of actually becoming a Cybertronain like him.

“Is that what you really want?”--Bumblebee

“Yeah! You’re so cool and, and you transforming is cool!”--Buddy

“Well, just don’t let Wheeljack or Grampa Sparkplug find out.”--Bumblebee

“Why?”--Buddy

Flashbacks to Autobot Spike incident.

“Trust me, you’re much better off being yourself.”--Bumblebee

“Really?”--Buddy

“Of course! Now let’s go see what the others are doing.”--Bumblebee

When he hears them talking about fighting alongside him, he tries to distract them with telling them about all the better ways of fighting the Decepitcons as a human.

This usually works and they get fixated on other things for the time being.

He does keep a close eye on the toddler in case they do try and go outside of the base or near Wheeljacks lab.

Gets Chip, Carly, Spike and Sparkplug to help better understand the dangers of being a bot and being out in the field.

Occasionally bringing in a guest bot… that’s fit to tell things to them.

“That should be that last speaker. Thanks again Blaster.”--Bumblebee

“No probs Bee! It was fun to talk to the little one.”--Blaster

“Yeah—wait why is the door still closed? I thought that was the last speaker.”--Bumblebee

“Oh, yeah I let Red in there. He said he wanted to have a short talk with Tiny.”--Spike

“Red… Red who—”--Blaster

“Spike, did you let Red Alert in the room?”--Bumblebee

“Yeah?”--Spike

“Oh Primus!”--Blaster

Blaster trying to open the door.

“Red! They’re too young! Open the door!”--Blaster

“You can’t make me! They are never too young to learn about safety protocols.”—Red Alert

“But not ALL of them!”--Bumblebee

“I will call Inferno if you don’t open the door in the next 10 seconds.”--Blaster

“Its okay Mr. Bumblebee! Mr. Blaster! Mr. Red Alert is teaching me how to lock a lock! It’s so cool! It’s like I’m in a spy movie!”--Buddy

“No, not cool, not cool! Someone get Inferno!”--Bumblebee

TFP

Bee, like G1, is a bit flustered that they want to be just like him when they grow up.

When they mention about actually wanting to be a bot, he humors them a bit.

“Beep bop bep? (So you think you got what it talks to be a big bot?)”--Bumblebee

“Yes!”--Buddy

“Bop boop bep beep bep bop.(But being a big bot means that you can’t help Miko color anymore.)”--Bumblebee

“… I’ll think about it.”--Buddy

But he is immediately against them going out to fight.

 He’ll highlight all the things they can do that he can’t do, that he needs their help to be able to do it. Buddy changes their mind… for now.

Bumblebee needs their help, so they are going to help him!

He is now on the lookout in case tiny decides to pull a Miko.

Teams up with Raf to explain why they can’t run head first into danger.

Bumblebee looking over to see Buddy and Miko ‘playing’ a video game with Raf and Jack.

“Hey Bee! Mind giving me a help with the cart for a second? I forgot to attached the cart but I’m already in vehicle form…”--Bulkhead

“Beep! (sure!)”--Bumblebee

Bumblebee attaches a cart to Bulkhead.

“Thanks!”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead driving with the cart into the groundbridge.

Bee waving goodbye before looking back at the kids.

Miko and Buddy are nowhere to be seen.

“Bop, bep beep bep? (Raf, where’s Miko and Buddy?)”--Bumblebee

“Oh, they went to get some soda’s in the other room.”--Raf

Bee’s com link sounds.

“Bep? (Hello?)”--Bumblebee

“I am so sorry…”--Bulkhead

“Bep? (what?)”--Bumbleee

“Hi Mr. Bumblebee! I’m with Mr. Bulkhead and Miko! The caves are so pretty here!”--Buddy

“…”--Bumblebee

“Bee?”--Bulkhead

Sports car transforming noises intensifies.

TFA

Bumblebee lives for the attention and absolutely hypes them up too.

They want to be like him when they grow up. Of course, who else wouldn’t want to be this? The fastest thing on 4 wheels is a great honor.

They actually want to be a bot? Okay, maybe not bot bot but technorganic is still new.

Maybe Buddy might be one too, there is only one way to find out!

“Bumblebee did you bring the circuit—What in the Allspark are you doing!”--Ratchet

Buddy on a high shelf with a helmet on while Bumblebee is at the bottom of the shelf with a pillow.

“Hi Mr. Ratchet! I’m gonna try and fly like Sari! Bumblebee is helping me!”--Buddy

“Oh, is that right? Well as soon as you’re on the ground I need to have a word with Bumblebee.”--Ratchet

“Why?”--Buddy

“Because… the grownups need to talk.”--Ratchet

Ratchet looking at Bumblebee with the ‘I will throw my wrenches at you when they are gone’.

Actually, fight by his side? He puts a stop there.

He tries to reason with them a little bit, mainly pointing out that they could get really hurt and then he would be very sad.

He is surprised that this has worked for a long time.

Teams up with the rest of the team and Sari to explain to Buddy about not going out into dangerous places yet.

Yet.

“C’mon you two it’s time to show everyone your costume!”--Ratchet

“… You promise not to laugh?”--Buddy

“Of course, not now come out we got some trick or treating to get too! You don’t want to best candy to get eaten.”--Bumblebee

“It’s okay I’ll come out with Buddy.”--Sari

“Okay on the count of three… two… one… go!”--Optimus

Sari coming out in her modified Optimus Prime costume with Buddy holding her hand with a homemade Bumblebee costume.

“Aww! Look at that love the color you two! Hey Bumblebee, what do—”--Bulkhead

Bumblebee trying so hard not to cry.

“Are you crying?”--Bulkhead

“N—no”--Bumblebee

“I did after my hero Bumblebee!”--Buddy

Bumblebee is now trying to hold back a full-on sob.

“You sure you’re not crying?”--Prowl

ROTB

Bee is warmed when he hears that the little one looks up to him like that.

It is nice to hear someone say that.

“Bumblebee! Bumblebee!”--Buddy

Bumblebee looking at them waving.

“Look what I drew today!”--Buddy

Bumblebee looking at a picture of him and Buddy holding hands with ‘My Hero!’ written in blue crayon.

“Do you like it? It’s yours!”--Buddy

Bumblebee gently holding Buddy in his servo giving a hug while whirling happy tunes.

When Buddy talks about wanting to be a real bot, he explains as simply as he can that right now it isn’t possible.

Yet there is still hope.

Fighting by his side is completely out of the question. He is not letting them anywhere near the fight if he can help it.

Will have a spark attack if he sees that they stowed away.

Bumblebee has to get help from Noah and Kris so Buddy can understand why it’s dangerous to stowaway.

“But I want to go too!”--Buddy

“So do I Buddy but things can get really bad out there.”--Kris

“And you can’t stowaway in cars. That’s a bad thing to do.”--Noah

“But Mirage said that you tried to carjack him when you two met. I’m pretty sure that that’s even more illegal.”--Buddy

Bee laughing through his radio with Mirage while Kirs is trying to hold it in.

“… Mirage you’re not babysitting them for the next month.”--Noah

[calliesmemes]

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

[ohraicodoll]

Honey

Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 3.2k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: The first time there was an excuse, the second time was just about release. (If you’ve read the other stories, this would take place after Monsters/Teeth in the timeline. Have a little smut fic to make up for all the angst I’ve been writing.)

Warning: Explicit sexual content (18+ Minors DNI) “ With just a little taste of wasting time Looking for honey But she stings like she means it She's mean and she's mine “ It’d been a hard day.

The vehicle they’d manage to steal from the survivalist’s cabin didn’t last long. For all that group had worked and prepared their fortress, they hadn’t kept up with the maintenance on the car and it had crapped out after a couple of days, even driving slowly. They were back to walking, the dream of quickly getting to Wyoming vanishing. They’d hit a town that had seemed mostly empty, but there’d been a pocket of infected that had swarmed. It was pure luck that there had been no Clickers, only Runners, but it’d been a close call. Now they were holed up on the second floor of a shop, Joel having barricaded the stairs leading up to it and securing the whole floor while she helped set up for the night. They were exhausted and Ellie was a little extra quiet, rubbing her eyes and using some of the water they managed to get out of the pipes into a bucket to scrub out the blood off her jacket. She was still covered in it too, feeling it stick and crust to her neck and cheek, her hands. Joel sat down and they all ate out of cold cans in silence, only the clink of their spoons breaking the gloom. “Those runners…they were newer infected, weren’t they?” Ellie said gloomily. She sighed and Joel chewed slowly, looking up at the teen from beneath a furrowed brow, “They were most likely a group passing through. Got bit and all of them turned. The newer ones tend to be the fastest.” Ellie hummed thoughtfully and shrugged, “Maybe that means there’s not many infected left here if they were the only ones to come out? That mean we’re safe up here?” “Or they’re trapped inside the buildings,” she responded, not wanting to kill her hope but also being realistic, “But we’ll hear if anyone comes in and the barricade should delay them. We’re safe enough.” The young girl nodded and sighed, finishing her food and setting the can aside, “Okay…I’m gonna go to bed. I’m tired.” She sent her a soft “goodnight” and finished her food quietly, the light of the lantern between them all that was lighting the room. She was still wired from the fight, sleep not finding her any time soon. Without saying a word to her companion, she stood and went over to the bucket and picked it up before walking a little bit away to one of the mirrors the store had hanging on the far wall. Clothing racks and shelves were toppled everywhere, moth eaten rags hanging from them and trash littering the ground. She pulled over a cement block nearby and sat on it near the mirror, grabbing a rag off the rack and dipping it into the water. It wasn’t safe to drink but they could at least use it to clean up. The mirror was stained and dirty, foggy from years of neglect and exposure to whatever was in the air. She couldn’t see her reflection fully but could see enough to try and clean the crusted blood off her skin. It came off in flakes from her hands, blood and dirt leading way to clean skin. Boots walked towards her and she paused, looking up as Joel joined her along the shadowed wall, face always that tilted down frown and furrowed brow. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked at the water and rag before grabbing another cement block and scooting it in front of her, “Here. You can’t see shit in that thing, I’ll do it.” They hadn’t spoken about that night in the cabin. That night when he’d came and joined her on the floor, has slipped his fingers into her to help her relax and then fucked her into the ground. They’d woken up and went on like it never happened and hadn’t changed a thing. But something was different. They both felt it and didn’t want to acknowledge it. She knew he’d keep bugging her until she gave in so she handed him the rag with a roll of her eyes, turning to face him, their knees pressed together. He took it and dipped it into the water then his calloused fingers held her chin, holding it in place as he passed the rag over her cheek. They didn’t speak, didn’t even make eye contact, but there was a tension suddenly there the moment his skin touched hers. He was being gentle and it unnerved her because Joel was never gentle. Especially not with her. They were at each other’s throats constantly, Ellie being their only glue together. “You shouldn’t have used your knife on those,” he grunted and the sound wrapped around her in the darkness, “Too easy to get bit. If you had ran I coulda shot them.” “Bullets are a bit valuable nowadays, Tex, and I had it handled,” she bit out as he turned her face the other way to get the blood under her ear, “Using the knife conserves bullets.” “It’s not gonna conserve anything if I have to put one in your head because you got infected,” Joel hissed and his fingers pressed a little harder into her skin to emphasize the point. The pressure on her skin sent tiny sparks through her and her heart beat a little faster, his touch and smell all around her not helping at all. “Well if that happens you can say I told you so,” she rolled eyes and tried to not to focus on the slow drag of the cloth as it moved down her neck. Abruptly, he jerked her forward and her hands had to brace on his thighs to keep from toppling onto him. His fingers dug into her chin hard enough she wondered if it would bruise later on, his eyes dark and searing into her even covered by shadows. “Or you can fucking be careful and listen to me,” he growled, breath coasting along her face from his proximity. “Yes, sir,” she answered sarcastically, nose wrinkling with a raised lip. Something shifted in those dark irises and she caught the flicker of his eyes as they dipped to her lips, “Give me attitude and I’ll have you saying that while you fucking beg me.” Her skin was suddenly on fire, tightening at his words, aware of the muscle of his thighs underneath her hands. She felt hot and swallowed, aware he could feel the action with his hand still on her chin, “Sorry to break it to ya, but I’m not begging you for shit.” But then his mouth was smashing into hers, teeth cutting into her lip, and the hand with the rag curling around her neck. She could feel the cool water drip down her skin and run along her chest, the feeling icy against her heated skin. Kissing Joel was like drowning and she let herself, pressing back hard against his mouth and pushing her tongue between his lips, drinking in his groan as she did so. His hand briefly left her skin to ease himself off the cement block and onto the ground before he dragged her down into his lap, knees braced on either side of his thighs. She could feel him beneath her, already hard and pressing against her, the knowledge shooting straight to her core. She sucked on his lower lip, biting and sucking and letting him explore her mouth, his beard rough against her skin. The hand on her chin went to her waist and dug into the fabric of her shirt, pressing her harder against him and his hips rocked a bit, grinding his hard member into her through their jeans. She moaned softly, not wanting to attract the attention of the sleeping teen yards away. The rag in his other hand slid along her neck and he broke away to latch onto the newly cleaned skin there, biting into the spot just under her ear. She bit her tongue to keep her sounds at bay and dove her hand into his hair, gripping the salt and pepper curls tightly in her fist. The day had left her running on adrenaline, raw and vibrating, and she knew exactly what this was. A release. A way for them to get their energy out after fighting for their lives. There were worse ways to handle it. For all that Joel drove her crazy, losing herself in him had its appeal like now when she could touch and caress every part of him that had managed to snag her attention. She ran her hand over the tense muscles of his neck as he continued to press open mouth kisses along her own, biting and licking and sucking his way along the path the rag had cleaned the blood away. Her hand moved to the hard muscles of his biceps, the patch of hair at the opening of his shirt, the rough skin of his stomach after she untucked his shirt. He was untouchable in the day, out there on the road, but she’d take this moment and use it to explore what she could while she had the chance. She ached, need pulsing as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her neck, and ground down into him. He hissed and broke away, resting his forehead against her shoulder, “Fuck. You’re fucking impatient, darlin.” “I’m not impatient,” she rocked against him again and could feel him move to meet the motion, “I’m showing you what needs attention, Miller.” He dropped the rag and grabbed the back of her neck, raising his face to meet hers, their noses touching, “Joel. When I fuck you, you say my name. Not Miller, not Tex. Joel.” She skimmed her lips along his and grinned mockingly, canines showing, “Yes, sir.” He growled and pressed his lips back against hers bruisingly, the kiss a messy clash of teeth and tongue as if they were trying to fight against one another. His hand on her hip moved to the front of her jeans and began to unbutton them, hands jerky and rushed, practically ripping them open and shoving his hand inside. Joel swallowed her moan when his fingers found her mound, sliding through her lips and feeling the slickness there already. He rubbed back and forth and let her rock against his hand, talking against her mouth, “This where you’re needing attention?” “It ain’t obvious?” she huffed and shuddered as his thumb found her clit, pressing hard against it and making her jerk. Slowly he pushed two fingers into her, using her wet arousal to stretch her and slide in and out. His mouth moved back to her neck, listening as her breath left her in raspy moans almost silent around him. He started so slow, letting her get used to him, and then started pumping faster and harder. The friction of jeans, his rough hand, and his own jerky motions of his hips felt delicious and she clawed at his shoulder to brace herself, the other still tangled in his hair. “God, you’re so fucking wet,” he growled against her neck, scraping his beard across her sensitive skin. She could feel the beginning of her orgasm growing, the coil in her tightening and threatening to snap at any moment. His fingers were so thick inside of, filling her up, as his thumb kept circling and pressing down on her clit. And she was almost embarrassingly wet, knowing it was soaking through her jeans and covering his hand. Then, abruptly, he stopped and she gripped his hair and tugged his head painfully back as he removed his hand, “Miller-” “What’d I say ‘bout my name?” he snarled at her, the sound going straight to her throbbing center, “You beggin’ already?” Her tongue was pressed to the top of her teeth, eyebrow raised, as she shook her head in defiance. Instead she ground against him and the hard, straining member beneath his jeans. He was clenching his teeth, eyes fluttering shut briefly at the motion, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought hard to restrain himself. But she didn’t want him restrained and she certainly wasn’t going to beg. One of them was going to give in and it wasn’t going to be her. Joel Miller, for all his cleverness and practically, was not a patient man. The hand that had been inside her came up and stroked her chin, then her mouth, rubbing along her bottom lip as he watched. She continued to rock against him and scraped her nails against his scalp, then she teasingly touched her tongue to the thumb along her lip. Joel’s eyes flashed to hers and stayed there, burning in the darkness of the room, as she licked his thumb and let it slide into her mouth, sucking on it. She could taste her own arousal on his finger, the salt and slight grime still there. It was all Joel, perfect and rough and bitter. Her lips wrapped around the digit, pulling it into her hot wet mouth, her tongue licking him clean. His breath was coming out in heavy rapid pants, his other hand digging onto her thigh and sliding to her clothed ass, clenching it. Not once did she break eye contact. Even as her teeth scraped against his skin and her hand went to his belt buckle, she stayed watching him and seeing the fire light up in his dark irises. Then finally he snapped, the first to break. Before she could blink, he had pulled his thumb from her mouth and was lifting her up to her feet to rip her jeans down her legs. He did it swiftly, not caring if the tugging hurt or if he was jostling her around. He got them off her legs while she smirked and as she stood in front of him, he grabbed her thigh and yanked her forward, his mouth finding her cunt while one of his own hands moved to unbuckle his belt and jeans. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from making a sound, eyes flickering to where Ellie was still fast asleep, and sank her hand back into his hair to press his face against her. His tongue lapped at her desperately, beard rubbing against her sensitive skin, lips wrapping and sucking on her clit. It was exquisite, her legs shaking as he managed to coax her pleasure back to life. It was sloppy and rough and fast, her brain struggling to catch up to the lightning flaring up inside of her. His tongue dipped into her and she rocked against his face, desperate to find release. He hummed against her soaking warmth and then sucked hard on her clit, her orgasm hitting her so hard she had to brace herself on his shoulders to keep standing. It was fireworks, a lighting storm, everything hitting her at once as she came hard on his tongue. Joel gently coaxed her back into sitting on his lap, his jeans pulled down and his erection out and heavy against his thigh. She was still trying to catch her breath, hands resting on his naked thighs and head resting on his shoulder. His hand combed through her hair and tugged, using it to straighten back up and look at him, “Uh uh, darlin, I’m not done with you yet.” He kissed her roughly, her own taste all over his tongue and coating her mouth, while he pumped himself a few times. She groaned into his mouth, breathy little pants leaving her, then he was lifting her up to position her over his throbbing cock. She was still so sensitive and as she sank down onto him she squeezed her eyes tightly, biting down on her lips and pressing her forehead to his. Her being on top gave them a new angle that hit differently than last time, letting him fill her completely and hitting every spot that had sparks singing inside her skin. Fuck, he felt good and she had to fight so hard to keep from moaning out loud, could feel it in her throat wanting release. “That’s it,” he hummed to her, voice catching with his own moan, “Fuck, darlin’. I could come right now from being inside you.” Secretly, she was pleased to hear the praise and not be the only one affected. Sex had been good last time, but there’d been a tentative dance to it. Breaching the gap and testing the waters to see if they were on the same page. Now they both knew there was an attraction there and even if they hadn’t spoken about it, hadn’t said exactly what it was or if it had been a one time thing, there wasn’t a hesitation to jump that gap again. She started to move, lifting herself up and down, feeling him slide against the walls inside of her. Those sparks had started up again, building tight in her lower stomach and growing with each move. He began meeting her pace, thrusting up into her while leaning forward and placing hot kisses along her throat. His teeth found her collar bone, the small tattooed stars, and he nipped at them while his hands gripped her waist. He helped her bob up and down on him, starting slow and letting her get used to him. But she didn’t want it to be slow, didn’t want his gentleness. Bending down to his good ear, she breathily moaned and let his name slip out of her, “Joel.” And then the pace turned frantic and hard, his arms banding around her body and him thrusting his hips up into her wildly. His cock hit deep and the feeling bordered on pain, but it only intensified everything. She was soaking his lap in her arousal and his fingers were bruising her waist. It was overwhelming in its intensity, her already sensitive clit rubbing against the base of his erection, and she was climbing higher and higher. She wanted to drown in the feeling, lose herself in him and forget the world around them. Forget she was still covered in blood, forget her name, forget everything but this feeling of overwhelming pleasure. Then she was coming, whispering his name over and over again, him thrusting through her orgasm. She felt the moment he followed her, warmth filling her up completely as his release came inside of her and his movements became wild and slow. He held her tightly on his lap and her arms were around his shoulders, forehead resting against the side of his head. The silence began to seep back, awareness outside of their panting breaths, and the heat died down. She tried not to notice how he pressed one final, soft kiss to her collar bone before straightening up, his eyes meeting hers. “I didn’t beg,” she whispered, voice husky and raw from holding in her sounds. Joel huffed out a chuckle, eyes flickering to her lips then moving away, “Don’t sound so cocky, there’s still next time.” Next time. The words rolled around in her mouth and she tried not to feel pleased that there would in fact be a next time. Because it was something, some form of endearment towards her, outside of the constant bickering and getting after her. She smirked, “We’ll see, Joel.” _______________________ Tag List: @alouise20 @faceache111

[cranberryjuice-posts]

DARINGGGG GUESS WHO JUST ESCAPED THE ASYLUMMMM

IM BACK W ANOTHER REQUEST POOKIE (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO IT JS TAKE UR TIME)

OK SO CLARISSE X PERSEPHONE!DAUGHTER (THIS IS ANGST ANGST ANGST) WHERE THEY'RE IN THE BATTLE OF MANHATTAN AND READER IS STABBED SO OBS CLARISSE RUSHED OVER TO LIKE TRY AND SAVE THEM. BUT READER ALR KNOWS THEYRE DYRING SO THEY'RE IKE "its ok it's ok. I'm ginna go see my mother, i'll be fine!

BAWLING

(clarisse is taking over my mid)

HAVE A GREAT DAY AND TAKE CARE OF YOUTSELF POOKIE

- I’ll be back -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Persephone! Reader

An - just a heads up as I said in my Korra fic this will probably be my last clarisse fic For a while. The hyperfixation and excitement to write for her is slowly going away, I will be writing most all of the request that I do have for her eventually but other than that I will be taking a short break I hope you all understand!

The sky had a thick layer of grey over it. The destruction to manhattan causing cement and other forms of pollution to take over the air.

Swinging your weapon aimlessly you tried to fight off the growing hoard of monsters. It was hard, fighting for gods know how many hours, seeing people you loved and care for die in-front of you and slowly loosing your siblings.

What hurt the most was seeing kids you grew up and laughed with fighting against you. Fighting for a cause that would benefit no one, fighting for what seemed like a dream that was never going to be real.

Trudging into a hidden alley way you lifted up your shirt. Looking down you saw the poisoned arrow shot wound becoming purple; throbbing harder and harder by the second.

Muffling your scream you pulled the dirty bandages off your body, tossing them into a dumpster. Rummaging through the bag at your side you quickly tried to change the dressings.

In the middle of war a second of peace was rare, a moment to asses your injuries was non existent, a chance to mentally reflect on your surroundings ended in death.

Death that forever followed you.

Standing stiff you were almost to scared to look down. If you gas lighted yourself enough you couldn’t feel it, it wouldn’t be true. It was foolish to think that you could of hidden from war.

“Checkmate” a raspy voice behind you whispered. Tyla.. s a daughter of Tyche and a friend who you had always competed with. Simple childish competion that eventually ended in celestial bronze piercing through your gut.

You’ve never been the best fighter but receiving deadly wounds twice in one day was setting the bar low. Pulling her sword out you fell to your knees, a metallic sound swinging in the air and hitting you in the back of your throat.

Tylas rough combat boot pressed your face into the gravel, tears quickly falling out of your face. “See You in hell” sliding the rubber bottom off your cheek she spat on you. Walking away with the intent to kill another.

Laying in the dirty alley way your thoughts went from the pain slowly leaving your body to memories of her. Of clarisse.

Sitting on the doc together where you shared your first kiss at sun down.

The first argument which ended with you both apologizing and laying together.

Sneaking into the ares cabin just to get caught the following day because you accidentally grew dead roses outside her window.

The awkward confession and her asking you on a date.

… the promise you made to clarisse that you would come back alive.

You woke up laying on a mat, a few medics crowded around you and the crying face of the woman you loved above. You couldn’t help but smile, even in her worst clarisse still looked beautiful.

Will reached over and grabbed her arm squeezing it. “She doesn’t have long” he mumbled closing his eyes. “Be quick” he softly spoke, standing up and walking to another kid.

You tried to move but she quickly took your body into her arms. “Hey, hey don’t.. just rest” clarisse tried to stay strong but right now she couldn’t help but loose it all. “You gonna be fine” her voice broke.

Tears began falling from her eyes and hitting your face. Her weak expression destroyed your heart.

Grabbing her shirt as it was the closest you could Get to touching her. “I’m ok… everything’s ok” you whispered. Clafisse just shook her head, the color was quickly leaving your face. “I just have to visit my mom for a little while, it’ll just be for a few weeks ok”

Clarisse brought your body to hers, hiding her face in your neck. Your arms went lip and around you both dead flowers and weeds appeared. As a daughter of Persephone death followed you every where, even in your final moments.

It felt as though the world stopped. That the outside wasn’t real and this all was a bad dream but even the strongest warriors had to accept when the sun came up.