#I SERIOUSLY hope it's River

[demaparbat-hp]

For the Spirits—Chapter III: Keep Your Plans

At the risk of feeling dumb, check in

It's not worth the risk of losing a friend

Even if they say:

“Just keep your plans, I hope

That you never have to drop

Anything for me.”

—At The Risk Of Feeling Dumb by Twenty One Pilots

.

Yume had to resist the urge to sigh. She already knew how this would go. All roads led to tea, Pai Sho, and no straight answers. If she could go back in time and reach out to her younger self, she’d warn the tired face in the mirror to enjoy Iroh’s company while he still made sense.

She cursed the Crew under her breath, doing her best to give the General a smile back or, at least, keep a straight face.

Why did I even say yes to this?

[empyrangel]

Finally got around to doing the Arlecchino story quest and I gotta say. what the fuck. genuinely this might be the worst story genshin has ever put out

I was so hyped for it between all of the quests in Fontaine being so good up until now, and the trailer making it seem really dramatic and tense and like it was really going to go in depth about the dynamics in the house of the hearth, just for it to be as boring as it was frustrating.

Part of what made it such a bore to sit through is that we already knew exactly what was going to happen in it. They spoiled so much of it with that terrible amine short they put out prior to the quest. There was no mystery or suspense around Clervie’s identity or all the terrible things she was accusing the house and the Knave of because we already knew she was Arle’s childhood friend and she was talking about the old Knave and not the current one. Seriously, why did they release that short before the quest? And everything that wasn’t spoiled beforehand was painfully predictable. When they were talking about Arle executing people for just wanting a better life than being forced to work for a terrorist organization, I knew there was no way they were going to commit to that. That is way to absurd and cruel and they were absolutely going to chicken out from making Arle villainous so it had to be a red herring. I joked to myself that there was going to be some big reveal about how actually Arle hasn’t been killing these people, she’s just been putting them in witness protection and giving them new civilian identities to live under. And you’re fucking telling me that they actually pulled that shit? Like unironically that was the route they chose to go with? That’s laughable.

This applies to the anime short as well as the quest, but Crucabena was such a one-dimensional cardboard cutout of a character. She was evil to an absurd, almost comical degree, and that’s literally all she was. It’s so obvious she only exists to make Arle look like a better Knave by comparison (and to give her a pathetic sob story of a childhood). She’s not even her own character and she only exists as a foil for Arle, that’s ridiculous.

And that leads into my biggest problem with this quest, which is not only how they absolutely refuse to let Arle be portrayed as a villain or even a morally grey character, but how that leads to insane levels of favoritism that simultaneously harms her character, the characters of everyone else in the quest, and the story itself. I mean the narrative really bends to Arle’s favor in a borderline Mary-Sue-like manner.

She’s all-knowing, apparently. She just knows about both of the plots going down behind her back with no explanation as to why and no prior characterization of her as being omniscient. She knows because she’s ✨special✨ and she just does. Neuvillette has been established to have the power to resonate with and read people’s emotions, but oh so conveniently he can’t read Arle’s emotions. No explanation as to why except that she’s just ✨special✨ and ✨emotionally repressed✨ and he just can’t. She’s also omnipotent btw, because we can’t have the audience believing that Arle is anything other the most perfect most special girlie in Teyvat. The traveler has fought and won against gods, and dragons, and dragon gods, and three other harbingers? Well fuck all of that because they can’t beat this mortal human with ✨special✨ fire magic. Did I mention how strong and special she is? What even was that fight though? Again, the trailer hyped it up so much just for it to fall completely flat. The traveler didn’t manipulate the elements, why not? Were they even trying? Arle just showed them some vision and it completely disabled them. But the audience doesn’t have the context as the what the vision was or what it means (because god forbid we ever get any traveler lore) so it just feels like some lazy cop-out to make sure Arle won the fight no matter what, because she’s the most specialist girl and she’s the best at everything. Can’t have her looking weak.

And that’s another thing, Arle doesn’t have any weaknesses or character flaws. Technically she does, for example she is extremely emotionally repressed. But the narrative isn’t aware that’s a flaw and therefore doesn’t treat it like one, instead she’s treated like the pinnacle of existence. She’s all-knowing, undefeatable in combat, immune to all other characters abilities, a master manipulator, she always has the upper hand against everyone else, she’s intelligent, organized, ruthless, unable to be influenced by emotion, she’s everything except a well-rounded character because this game is so insistent on keeping from Arle from actually being shown as a villain that they somehow did a 180 and made everyone think of her as a hero and the greatest thing since sliced bread. And that leads me to the worst problem with this quest.

The massive Arle dick sucking contest that is the end of the story quest. What the hell was that? Instead of killing people for simply wanting a better life, it turns out Arle forcibly removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives, but apparently since she doesn’t kill people everyone starts worshiping the ground she walks on? Did everyone conveniently forget that Arle forces children to join the house, then manipulates them into not trying to leave by pretending that the penalty for that is death, and then when people inevitably begin to hate her for being a piece of shit, she removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives. And on top of that, she’s brainwashed the children of the house to believe that not wanting to forcibly work for a terrorist organization for the rest of your life is the same as betraying your family. And she made the siblings believe that they had to fight her and win to get her to spare the other members when she was going to do that already. Let’s not pretend all that’s not extremely fucked up.

But then you have the two npc’s who were wanting to leave apologizing to her because they were pissed she forced them into the house and made leaving illegal? Like wtf are you apologizing for, you guys are completely in the right? And Lynette and Freminet, who had been beaten by Arle so badly they said they couldn’t move for two days were like “Well that wasn’t even 1% of her power, she could’ve killed us if she wanted to but she went easy, we’re very grateful for that.” Grateful for fucking what? That she didn’t kill you? That’s absurd. And Lyney, who is currently being groomed by Arlecchino to soon take her place in the cycle of abuse, thanks Arle for sparing him and letting him be in the house. He calls her a hero. These people think they actually owe Arle lives for bringing them into the hearth wtf. When I said that the Arle favoritism was ruining other’s characters besides her own, this is what I meant. The siblings could have had some development in this quest. They could have finally woken up to Arle’s manipulation and we could have some nuance to their opinions on and loyalty to Arlecchino while still having them stay in the house because it’s the only home and family they know. But no, all of that got trashed in favor of showing the audience how great Arle is for not killing and experimenting on children and how everyone loves her, and is blindly obedient, and never questions her.

But I think the worst of it was Clervie. We get that whole backstory about how Clervie dedicated her life to seeking freedom and opposing Crucabena’s terrible way of leading until she couldn’t take it anymore and decided the only way to be free was to die. And then she witnesses everything that happened at the ruins. Arle threatening to kill people just for wanting to leave a place they never chose to be a part of, the people begging and crying for their lives, Arle demanding that rules must be upheld above people’s lives, the blatant way Arle was using “loyalty” to manipulate the people in the house, her making the siblings fight her with the lives of the other members on the line, her painfully removing people’s memories and personality and kicking them out. Clervie saw all that and still told Arle that she was a good Knave and Clervie approved of what she did. At this point the game might as well just come out and say “See! Everyone loves Arle and thinks she’s the greatest. Even her friend who opposed the old Knave for being cruel thinks she’s doing a great job. That means you have to like her too. Pay no attention to what an actual piece of human shit she is and just admit that she’s the specialist and the bestest character :)” because honestly that would have been more subtle than all this bullshit.

And what really gets me is that in the quest they explicitly made a point about how sad it was that the children except for Arle and Clervie were too brainwashed to realize how cruel the old Knave was, and then they went and pulled that ending. This goes beyond irony.

Only good part of the quest was that conversation between Lyney and Freminet at the beginning and Lynette calling everyone a dumbass. This whole quest should’ve just been them.

I had such high expectations because all of Fontaine so far, from the archon quest, to the world quests, to events, to story quests have been almost perfect. I’m so pissed that we’re leaving this incredible nation on such a sour note.

[not-rascal-artz]

Please share/reblog our voice, donate to save our lives Believe me, every contribution, no matter how small, helps to survive 🙏

Are you waiting us to die so that you can feel or do what needs to do ?! 😔

Vetted by . @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @nabulsi

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-shady-samir-ashour

I do not have the money the donate unfortunately, but I will definitely share your story on this account and my main account.

THIS IS THE LINK TO SHADY ASHOUR’S GOFUNDME! I NEED YOU GUYS TO PLEASE STOP WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU’RE DOING AND HELP THIS INNOCENT SOUL ESCAPE GAZA AND LIVE IN PEACE WITH THEIR FAMILY!!

(by the way guys.. it doesn’t matter if you follow me or not. please read the hashtags. I am genuinely begging you.)

[peeptro]

In every video of Palestinians in the wake of these bombings I see people rush to hold men as they are breaking down, comfort crying children, shield mothers’ eyes to protect them from things no mother should see…

The strength, kindness, and humanity of Palestinian people continues to resonate. It unconsciously wipes away everything Israel and the white supremacist eugenics movement try to propagandize. Witnessing this fight for love in the midst of fighting for survival, and how these things can and must coexist with one another, has made a serious impact on me, as I’m sure it has many people around the world. Even in the most unimaginable horror and pain, Palestinians keep tending to one another and taking care of one another.

These things are not a lesson; they are raw footage of an active and ongoing murder campaign and genocide. Still I can’t help but notice the tenderness, each and every time.

[theotherwesley]

oh boy it’s Wesley screams into a pillow about Barbarians: PART II NEW SEASON NEW FACES 

OH SHIT WE GOT CARTHAGINIANS!! oh my god am I going to see Carthage on my very own teevee??? Dare I dream????? also is she bi? she’s got bi vibes god is merciful

FUCK ME, the Faces. Oh, the faces we’ve been given. 

This is Marbod. I don’t think I need to explain myself. If you’ve known me for any length of time you know what’s up. 

I mean. He’s got the hair and the nose and the everything. I no longer need to see RoP they’ve given me my boy in the rome show. He’s got RINGS, the giant wolf-skin cape, The Beard (the beard), the clever code-switching and double-dealing with a Cause, the-- 

oh my god

ARE YOU SHITTING ME IS THIS REAL AM I ALIVE RIGHT NOW AM I BEING GIVEN EVERYTHING???

oh no they’re  t e n d e r   a n d   p o l i t i c a l l y   c o m p r o m i s e d

[soruphie]

I'm sorry sir, but in my headcannon, you don't get to commit your stupid seppuku t-t

(It's my first time playing through cyberpunk, and this dork grew on me in the first ten seconds just to have me crushed in all endings. Takemura, my beloved, you deserved so much better)

[pepprs]

i wish i’d kept pushing the point (<- vagueposting). im so tired i’m hitting a wall. but why is the answer to feeling bottomlessly lonely just to love myself and be loved by myself? isn’t that only more loneliness?

[sunliv]

I started a Netflix series called back to 15!!! I'm watching it in brazillian portuguese w/ subtitles

omg yeah!! i’ve heard of that show! it sounded really neat, i hope you’re enjoying it! i’ll try to watch it sometime too! watching it w br subtitles huh 👀i love that ur taking the come to brazil approach, getting closer to us 👀 soon you will be one of us too <3

[samwisefamgee]

the 20 dollar pair of throwaways I got for my sister's wedding were perfect for the like 7 hours I got them for but are really not perfect for like anything else ever

[froggiepads119]

Hello‼️ 🍉🍉🍉

I hope you are well.

Could you help me reblog the post my account and share my story with friends with a big heart and soul. I really need help in this fierce battle for Life in Gaza!,

I hope you can support for donating any amount you can and stand by me at the beginning in this difficult time. ♥️

Thank you for every kind gesture and thought of yours.🙏

Never stop fighting ❤️

[mattodore]

people you'd like to get to know better

tagged by @missatan and @andrwminward <3 blowing both of you kisses

last song: watermelon by john + jane q. public. lyrics are genius.

favorite color: green and red <3

currently watching: red dwarf! british sci-fi comedy sitcom from the 80s/90s. very funny. huge hit with me and lister is my ultimate babyguy. i'm on season seven atm.

sweet/savory/spicy: savory. i don't like anything too sugary and spice is okay but savory is just better sawrry.

relationship status: single

current obsession: the passenger (2023) directed by carter smith. not kidding when i say that in the last two weeks i've watched this movie almost every single day—sometimes multiple times in a day. watch it.

last thing you googled: a russian character from a comic that someone said matthias looked like 😭

[safaakhatib]

Hi, I'm Safaa, a mother of two girls. I'm living through the horrors of war here as you read my message. I'm fighting death and running with my two children, wateen and Naya, from one place to another to save their lives. I'm escaping a real genocide and the spread of diseases and epidemics.

My husband is a journalist who was seriously injured in the head and almost killed while covering the events. I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us.

Your generosity has the potential to make a huge difference.

Please donate and/or share 🙏🏻

@sayruq @malcriada @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @appsa @sar-soor @nabulsi @heliopixels @just-browsing1222 @jezior0 @sar-soor @malcriada @monstermashpotato @mushroomjar @appsa @amaralesbian @arcaneglitch @mushroomjar @khizuo @river-to-sea @chingaderita @cherifaouachani

[helen-with-an-a]

Hey! Was wondering if you could do a Barca x Teen!Reader, where reader gets seriously injured during a game (head injury, studs to chest etc.) Alexia, Luce and Keira all playing at the same time, and notice R go down. Lots of drama, worried parents, terrified/barely conscious reader. As dramatic and angsty as you can make it haha! Love your writing!

Hiiiii - so i've changed it a little but I think it's pretty close to what you wanted. I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3<3

Ask For a Sub

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R gets injured during El Clásico

TW: Injury

Word Count: 4k

You remembered those conversations vividly. The moments when Leah, Beth, Alexia, and Mapí had shared their stories of tearing their ACLs. Each of them had mentioned a strange, uneasy feeling on the day it happened. Leah had spoken about how she felt abnormally nervous, like a storm was brewing inside her. Beth had echoed the sentiment, recalling how she had chalked up her anxiety to the stress of her personal life, especially her worries about her mum. Alexia, with her sharp instincts on the field, had said that something about the training drills that day had set her on edge, making her second-guess movements that normally came as second nature. Mapí had described it as though the universe was sending her a warning, a subtle but persistent whisper that something was about to change

You wished you had experienced something similar. You wished you had a warning, a sign from someone above you that something was going to change. But it didn’t. It felt like a totally normal match day.

The energy was electric, the changing rooms crackled with excitement and pre-game nerves. The familiar sounds of studs on hard flooring and last-minute strategies filled the warm air.

“Okayyyyyy, let’s go,” Cata shouted as she left the changing rooms, the noise of laughter breaking through the tense silence. Laughter rippled through the team as the door swung shut, momentarily lifting the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the team. This was no ordinary match—this was El Clásico, the fiercest rivalry in football, and the tension was almost palpable.

“Let’s fucking do this thing,” Jana chimed in, her voice light and excited as she slung her arm across your shoulders. Her energy was infectious. You could tell that even the girls who took everything seriously, sometimes too seriously, were lightened slightly at the jokes. Smiles cracked through usual tough game faces as the younger players buzzed around the room.

“Language,” Alexia chided with a smirk, pushing Jana’s head down as she passed. Jana grinned mischievously, sticking her tongue out at her Captain in a mock show of defiance, the affection between them clear.

Just like that, the moment was over. It was like a switch being flipped – laughter replaced with seriousness as you entered the tunnel.

This was no ordinary match—this was El Clásico, the fiercest rivalry in football. The history between the two teams ran deep, a river of passion and pride that had shaped the sport for decades.

As you lined up behind your teammates, the reality of the situation hit you. You were 20 years old, standing shoulder to shoulder with legends. The names around you were synonymous with greatness, players who had inspired you, who had paved the way for your own journey. It was surreal, like a dream you hadn’t fully woken up from.

But there was no time for awe, no time for doubt. If you thought the energy was palpable in the changing rooms – out on the field was something else entirely. You could almost taste it. The crowd was like a tsunami – the wall of sound threatening to drown you. The air around you crackled and snapped like lightening in a storm. The familiar music bounced around the stadium, cheers and chants reminding you exactly who you were doing this for.

The match began with the intensity that was expected of a rivalry like this. Every tackle was fierce, every pass precise. The physicality of the game was a given, an unspoken agreement between both teams that nothing would be held back. You loved it. The rough edges, the sharp elbows, the way your body ached after a particularly hard challenge. It was all part of the game, part of what had drawn you to football in the first place.

As the minutes ticked by, the game only grew more intense. Players were starting to tire, and with that fatigue came mistakes. Feet were left behind in mistimed challenges, arms swung too widely as everyone fought for control. It was chaos, beautiful in its own way, and you thrived in it

It was strange, what you remember about it all. Nothing much remains of that day, but you distinctly remember thinking how sunny it was as you lined up for the corner. It was a simple observation as you squinted in the brightness. Ona had made a crucial block to a shot on goal, sending the ball out of play in the process. She had appeared from nowhere to help cover the gaps as Caicedo played the ball towards Navarro.

“And that’s why I call you, Lightening McQueen,” you quipped, patting Ona on the shoulder in thanks.

“Fuck off,” Ona teased, shoving your hand off with a grin, focussing her mind back on the set up.

You were assigned the task of marking Carmona, who had a knack for slipping in unnoticed at the back post and punishing unsuspecting keepers. As she lingered near the 18-yard box, you watched her closely, aware of her every move. Her brightly coloured boots were a signal, catching your eye as she began to bounce on her toes, a telltale sign she was gearing up for a run.

You took a deep breath as she set off, her movement calculated in a way that you admired. She dodged neatly around you as you side stepped into her path, forcing you into a sideways run.

You were so focused on her, so intent on keeping her in check, that everything else faded into the background. It was a rookie mistake, the kind you usually prided yourself on avoiding. But in that moment, nothing else existed but you and Carmona.

It felt like a wrecking ball had been swung into your back. The impact took all the wind out of you. You could barely breathe. The world spun as you were sent crashing to the ground, your body colliding with the turf in a jarring, bone-rattling thud. Pain flared up in your side, a slow, dull ache that radiated outward like a spark catching dry tinder. Your breath caught in your throat, each attempt to inhale met with sharp, searing pain. You had broken a rib when you were ten, falling off the monkey bars at school and landing on someone’s bag that they had left carelessly below you. Despite the years, you still remembered the icy hot fire that spread across your little body. This wasn’t like that. This was a dull, slow ache that told you, you would be sore tomorrow. Your body longed to breath in fresh, cool air, but it refused to listen to its own commands.

The noise around you became distant, muffled, as if you were underwater. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from your vision, but everything was a blur. Your brain was slow to catch up, still reeling from the impact.

“Pequeña?” A voice reached you through the fog, soft and concerned. Marta? You weren’t sure, everything was too fuzzy.

“Chica, I’m so, so sorry.” That voice was more distinct—Cata, you thought, though your mind struggled to make the connection. Pina? No, that didn’t make sense.

“Medics, medics,” someone shouted, the urgency in their voice cutting through the confusion.

Gradually, clarity began to return, the world coming back into focus like someone slowly turning the dial on a radio. The muffled sounds became sharper, the voices around you more distinct. You realised that someone was holding your head still, keeping you from moving as you instinctively tried to sit up.

“No, kiddo. Stay still, just until the medics clear you,” Lucy’s voice was calm, steady, a lifeline in the chaos. Her tone was reassuring, a reminder that you weren’t alone.

“Ow,” you croaked, the word slipping out involuntarily. The circle of concerned faces around you broke into nervous laughter, the sound a welcome break in the tension. It was a small reminder that, despite the pain, you were still here, still surrounded by teammates who cared.

“Hey, chica,” the physio called, taking Lucy’s place by your head. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N,” you answered, the word feeling strange in your mouth, like you weren’t entirely sure it belonged to you.

“Beautiful, and what’s mine?” she asked, her voice gentle as she looked at her colleague who was gently pressing along your side.

“Camila, and he’s Luis. And fuck that hurts.” With every word, you felt more like yourself, the shock wearing off, replaced by the familiar, albeit painful, reality. You winced as Luis pressed lightly on one of your lower ribs, the ache intensifying.

Camila chuckled softly, relief evident in her eyes as you became more and more coherent. “Sorry, honey,” Luis offered with a rueful smile.

You grumbled as they continued to check you over, the soreness settling in. You knew you’d have bruises in the morning, but you were fine. Everything was fine.

“Okay, Y/N, we’re going to sit you up,” Camila instructed, her voice warm and welcoming as she guided you into a sitting position. You blinked as stars danced across your vision, the world tilting slightly as you became vertical. The dizziness was overwhelming, your head spinning from the impact, but you were determined to shake it off. You were fine, you kept telling yourself. Everything was absolutely fine.

“Feeling okay?” Luis asked, his concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, even though the world still felt unsteady beneath you. You were helped to your feet, your legs wobbly but holding steady. After a final check from the physios, the referee waved you back onto the pitch, signalling that you were fit to continue.

They had shown you the footage later; looking back – you were in no fit state to return to the field. Maybe it was only truly noticeable to those who knew you, but you could see, as clear as day, that you wobbly on your feet. You kept blinking for too long, discomfort etched into the furrow of your eyebrows and the purse of your lips. It must’ve been adrenaline keeping you up right. That was all you could suggest really.

You remembered nothing from this point on. Not the unrelenting push for a goal that had electrified the entire stadium, nor the quick, strategic short corner taken by Alexia and Pina. Patri's cross into the box, which sailed perfectly through the air, was lost to you, as was the thud of the ball hitting your head. It would have been a fantastic goal – had Misa’s reflexes not been so sharp, her gloves snatching the ball out of the air with a clean, practiced catch. The defending had been sloppy, but in that moment, it worked in Madrid’s favour, leaving you with nothing to show for your efforts.

As you ran back down the pitch, following after your assigned player, the world began to slip away from you. You couldn’t hear the once-deafening roar of the crowd. You couldn’t smell the sweat that lingered in the air. The once-deafening roar of the crowd, which had been a constant backdrop, began to fade, the cheers and shouts dissolving into a distant hum. The familiar scents of the pitch—the earthy smell of damp grass, the tang of sweat in the air—seemed to evaporate, leaving behind an unsettling emptiness. Even the vibrant colours around you dulled; the green of the pitch lost its brightness, and the blue of the sky overhead seemed to bleed away into grey. You stumbled, your feet catching on something beneath you – maybe it was your own feet?

You stumbled, your feet heavy and clumsy as they tangled beneath you, sending you lurching forward. The ground seemed to tilt beneath you, the world spinning as your vision darkened. Strong arms caught you just before you fell, and you inhaled the calming scent of chamomile. You leaned into the warmth, seeking comfort in the embrace. Maybe if you just closed your eyes for a moment, the world would right itself.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The English had a definite British lilt to it … did that mean you were in Keira’s arms? Or was it Lucy?

“Dizzy,” you managed to whisper before everything went black

Keira's intuition had never failed her before, but this time it felt different—sharper, more urgent. She had been keeping an eye on you ever since the collision, her gaze flicking toward you every few seconds even as she tried to stay focused on the game. Something was off; she could sense it. The way you moved was just slightly out of sync, like your body was fighting to keep up with your mind. It wasn’t obvious, not to anyone who wasn’t looking closely, but Keira was looking closely.

She watched as you darted back into position, tracking the forwards with a determination that would have been admirable if it didn’t make her stomach twist with worry. But then, just as you were about to break into a sprint, she saw it – the slight hesitation, the falter in your step, the way your body seemed to sway as though the ground beneath you had shifted. And then you stumbled.

Keira didn’t think – she just moved. Instinct took over as she sprinted toward you, covering the distance between you in what felt like a heartbeat. When she reached you, your body was already starting to fold in on itself, your knees buckling under you. Her arms shot out, catching you just before you hit the ground, and she immediately pulled you close, cradling you against her chest.

You leaned into her, your weight heavy and unsteady. You looked so childlike. People often forgot how young you were, barely an adult, yet you had been making a mark in football for years now. If she wasn’t so goddamn terrified, she would have thought you looked adorable, your eyes dipping as if everything was suddenly to tiring for you. She could feel your breath against her neck, shallow and uneven. Panic surged through her veins, cold and relentless.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.

“Dizzy,” you mumbled, the word barely more than a whisper before your eyes fluttered shut and your body went limp in her arms.

Keira’s heart lurched, her pulse pounding in her ears. She tightened her grip on you, holding you up as best she could while waving frantically for help with her free hand.

“Medics,” she screamed. Why wasn’t the ref blowing the whistle. “I need help. Medics,” Keira tried again.

Finally, after too many long seconds, the referee's whistle blew sharply, cutting through the noise of the game, and suddenly the pitch was alive with movement. People were moving too slowly though. Why weren’t they moving faster? You could’ve heard a pin drop in the stadium. Silence settling over the crowd like a blanket.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she gently rocked you in her arms. “Please, stay with me.”

Alexia was the first to reach Keira, her usual calm demeanor shattered as she witnessed the scene unfolding before her. There was no room for the stoic captain now; instead, she was just a friend, scared and desperate for answers. She pulled the Brit to her feet, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close, the silent support grounding them both in the midst of the unfolding nightmare. They leaned into each other, finding some small comfort in the warmth of the other’s presence, even as their eyes stayed glued to the huddle of medics around you.

“She just, she was… she collapsed,” Keira’s voice was trembling, her words tumbling out in a rush as she tried to explain what had happened. She could still feel the weight of your body in her arms, the way you had slumped against her, the life seeming to drain out of you in an instant. Alexia held her tighter, sensing the panic rising within her, and Keira clung to her, the fear in her heart overwhelming.

“Dizzy,” Keira repeated, her voice rising in pitch as she was gently guided towards the dugout by one of the medical staff. “She started to go, and then she said she was dizzy, and then…” Her words faltered, the memory too painful to continue. Her eyes darted back to where you lay surrounded by the medics, their neon jackets a harsh contrast against the dark blue of the Barcelona staff. The scene was surreal, like something out of a nightmare, and Keira couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that had taken root in her chest.

The medics exchanged quick, concerned glances, their expressions growing more serious by the second as they checked your vitals. One of them placed a hand on your forehead, his frown deepening as he turned to his colleague. The tension in the air was palpable, everyone waiting, hoping, that whatever was wrong could be fixed with a few quick interventions. But the look on the medic’s face told a different story.

“She’s unconscious,” he said, his voice low but firm. “We need to get her off the pitch and to the hospital now.”

The whole team watched on nervously as you were lifted onto the stretcher. The gravity of the situation hit everyone around like a tidal wave, washing away any lingering hope that this was just a simple faint or a brief dizzy spell. As you were whisked away, Alexia couldn’t help but note that you looked like you were sleeping – you eyelashes grazing against your skin, a slight pink flush to your cheeks.

“Plasters,” Ona croaked, her voice thick with emotion. “She’s allergic to plasters,” she grabbed at the arm of one of the coaches nearby. “If she’s going to hospital, they need to know she’s allergic to plasters.”

It was clear that no one was in the right mindset to continue the game. You were a favourite amongst the team. Despite only being on the team for a year or so, you had managed to worm your way into everyone’s hearts. You were like a breath of fresh air for the team – a kind-hearted, sensitive soul that knew exactly what to say and when. The fans adored you. You had picked up on Catalan quickly – insisting that interviews be done in the language as much as possible. Your love of the club was easy to see, the interactions between supporters, especially the youngers ones, was something to be admired. You had a natural ease about you that everyone picked up on.

The final ten minutes of the match passed in a blur, the ball moving aimlessly from one side of the pitch to the other. For the Blaugrana players, it might as well have been a hundred minutes or even a hundred hours—time had lost all meaning as their minds were elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. The weight of the situation hung heavy over the team, each second dragging on as they tried to focus on the game in front of them. But despite the turmoil churning within them, there was one thing they all knew: they couldn’t forfeit this game. Not to Real Madrid of all teams. Pride and the deep-seated rivalry pushed them to keep going, even as their hearts ached with worry.

When the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, there was no usual chatter, no friendly banter as players from both sides met on the pitch. The bitter rivalry, which typically melted away at full-time as friends from opposing teams exchanged smiles and hugs, was forgotten in the wake of what had happened. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual post-match camaraderie. The Barcelona players rushed through the obligatory handshakes, barely making eye contact with their opponents. There was no lingering on the pitch today, no catching up with old friends—only the desperate need to get off the field and find out how you were doing.

The team almost sprinted through the tunnel, a collective sense of urgency driving them forward. The usual post-match rituals were abandoned; the focus now was entirely on you. Alexia led the charge, her steps quick and determined, her mind racing as she tried to piece together what had happened. She was usually the calm one, the leader who kept everyone grounded, but even she couldn’t mask the worry that gnawed at her as she pushed her way through to the back rooms.

“She’s gone straight to the hospital,” Camila’s voice cut through the chaos, and Alexia immediately locked onto her words. The relief that flickered across the blonde’s face was mirrored in the eyes of those around her, but the concern didn’t fully dissipate. “She’s awake, Ale,” Camila continued, her tone soothing yet still laced with urgency. “She was awake and talking when she was being loaded into the van. Groggy, but she’s fine.”

The words were like a lifeline, pulling everyone back from the edge of panic. Relief swelled amongst the team like a tidal wave, crashing over them and sweeping away some of the dread that had settled in their hearts. It wasn’t complete—there was still worry, still the gnawing fear of the unknown—but knowing you were conscious, that you had spoken, was enough to let them breathe again.

Keira, who had been holding herself together with sheer force of will, felt her legs give way as the tension finally broke. Her knees wobbled, and she sank down onto the nearest bench, the strength draining from her body. She had been replaying the moment over and over in her mind, the sight of you collapsing, the feeling of you going limp in her arms, the helplessness she had felt as the medics took over. But now, with Camila’s words echoing in her ears, she allowed herself to let go, the adrenaline that had kept her standing now replaced by overwhelming relief.

Around her, the rest of the team seemed to collectively exhale, the fear that had gripped them loosening its hold. They weren’t out of the woods yet—there was still the matter of getting to the hospital, of seeing you for themselves—but for now, they clung to the hope that everything would be okay. And that hope, fragile as it was, was enough to keep them moving forward.

The beeping is what woke you up. The annoying, constant, unrelenting beeping that you really wished would stop. You huffed slightly, trying to get comfortable and go back to sleep. Sleep was good. Sleep was helpful. So why wouldn’t this beeping let you sleep?

“Cariño?” Alexia’s voice whispered. Why was Alexia in your house? Come to think of it why was the beeping in your house too?

“Shhhh,” you moaned, your voice sounding far away. “’M sleepin’.” Gentle laughs filled the room. Huh? Too many people were in your house for this to be normal. You cracked one eye open.

Turns out, you weren’t at home. You weren’t quite sure where you were, but you definitely weren’t at home. Your home smelled like the vanilla candles you had stockpiled in your bathroom cabinets. Your home had a soft sofa and welcoming blankets. Wherever you were now smelled like disinfectant, and you were lying on a lumping, stiff mattress.

“Hey,” Keira smiled at you from the other side. Her warm hand resting in yours.

“Hey,” you croaked back. Your voice hoarse and weak, but it was the sweetest sound any of them had ever heard. “Where am I?” You figured it was the best question to start with. Figure out the where, and the why and how might make sense.

“Hospital,” Alexia supplied. Hospital? Ok, the why and how was not making sense.

“Why?”

“Do you not remember?” You frowned, shaking your head slightly.

“You got crashed into by Cata during the match. You hit your head, but no one realised. You carried on playing and then fainted on the pitch.” Keira stuck to the facts. If she stuck to the facts, she wouldn’t cry. She had been crying since she arrived at the hospital.

“Oh.” You vaguely remembered the sunshine. The feeling of wind on the pitch.

You managed a small smile, your fingers weakly squeezing Keira’s. “Sorry about that. Guess I just needed a nap.”

They both chuckled, the sound filled with both relief and lingering fear. “Next time, just ask for a sub, okay?” Keira teased.

You laughed softly, the sound easing the last of her worries. “Deal.”

fcbfemeni just posted

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fcbfemeni We are happy to announced that our no.34, Y/N Y/S/N is wake and talking. After a nasty collision and head injury against Real Madrid on Sunday, Y/N was taken to hospital where she was assessed by doctors. She will be monitored closely by medical staff and her return to play will be phased back gradually. We wish you all the best in your recovery, yourusername

yourusername just posted

liked by keirawalsh and others

yourusername Next time, I'll just ask for a sub and I won't be so dramatic about it. I'm not 100% just yet, but I'm definitely out of the woods. Thank you to all the medical staff at FC Barcelona and Hospital de Barcelona. Big shout out to keirawalsh for catching my fall and I'm sorry for giving everyone a scare. I'm not sure when I'll be back to playing for the team, but I without a doubt I'll be cheering you on from the stands or my sofa at home. ❤️❤️❤️

[definesanity]

I have sad

I gib hug--

[indecisivemuch]

Cupids in Converses

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Valentine's was rolling up. You and Luke played Cupid on Percy and Annabeth. But what if playing matchmakers gave both you guys and your unspoken feelings the nudge that you guys have always needed? (Fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Warning: sort of cliché, but it's Valentines so.

Note: Valentines got me in the mood of writing something rom-com-ish. Let's just assume Luke wears red converses that looks like Maia in the show. Also, I've been incredibly busy so I kinda rushed through this one to post it on time for Valentines.

Word count: 4.1k (whoops)

February has always filled the air with some sort of sugary chemical. Everything seemed sweeter like a pink filter had been put over the world. Some may dislike the upcoming February holiday, but it was perhaps one of your favorite times of the year. 

Why? You were somehow blessed with the skills of getting people together and nudging them just enough to cross the line they needed to. So far, you have managed to help six couples get together. With Valentine’s right around the corner, the urge to play cupid grew to the point it was itching your hands.

“Well, compared to the Chimera on Monday, Medusa on Sunday, could have been a lot worse,” Percy was quickly interrupted by Annabeth. 

“Medusa was Saturday.”

“I thought Sunday?”

“No monsters on Sunday. Monday, you died in a river.” You squint your eyes at the conversation that Percy and Annabeth were having. The familiar bells rang in your head; you could practically hear them roaring at you.

“Right, so Medusa on Saturday…” 

“Woah, guys, what’s this?” Luke interrupted. “When did you turn into an old married couple?” Percy and Annabeth both grew slightly flustered at the Hermes counselor’s words. Muttering a few things here and there, the two kids quickly excused themselves and walked off from you and Luke just to avoid the topic in general. You slowly turned towards Luke and peered up at him.

“Surely…” you spoke cryptically.

“Surely what?”

“Them!” you gestured to the direction that Percy and Annabeth had headed off to. You kicked a small rock with your Converse and watched it tumble away. “Surely we can give a little nudge?” you trailed off, bumping into Luke’s shoulder.

“You’re not seriously gonna play Cupid on them, right?”

“No, I’m not…because we are,” Luke let out a loud breath, hands on his hips as he peered down at you. However, you could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 

“Sweet girl, I adore you, but why not let things run their course?” you hope he did not see the physical reaction over that nickname because, internally, your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh? And you’re telling me those six couples from before would have gotten together without me? You know I’m right about this kind of stuff. I can usually sense it. Besides, it’ll be fun, I promise.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Uhm…you get to spend time with me?” you decided to answer, grinning up at Luke when he gave you a feigned unimpressed look. “Please, besides, you and Percy are close, so it would help a lot. I already have a plan and I need your help for it.”

One look into your eyes, and Luke knew he was doomed. For some reason, you just can make him do anything you ask. Luke could feel the hands on his hips slowly slipping as he looked into your eyes.

“Fine.”

Stage 1: Get Percy to realize his feelings cause he’s blind as hell

It was midnight and everybody else was asleep except for you and Luke. The two of you were in the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The two of you were making some fortune cookies for your plan. However, there was a tiny twist to the treat you two were making. You had personally printed out a couple of prompts that you wrote yourself in hopes they would nudge Percy into realizing his feelings. 

“Really?’“Romance is in the air. What you’re looking for is right in front of you’?” Luke read out the small piece of paper that you printed. You pulled the cookies out of the oven when they were ready.

“It’s cliche and sort of obvious, but hey! It’ll work because it’s Percy I’m working with,” you quickly pulled the paper out of his hand to put it in the fortune cookie before folding it into shape and letting it cool down.

“Mhm. He’s gonna realize you’re trying to play cupid.”

“Are we talking about the same person? I doubt Percy would realize. Annabeth would, hence why I’m not trying this on her.”

Luke helped you out with a couple of other spare fortune cookies that you two intended to keep for yourselves.

“Alright, finally done,” you muttered, washing your hands. However, you were caught off guard when Luke dipped his hand in the bag of flour on the counter and smeared some on your cheek. Your mouth hung slightly at this, and you looked up at him challengingly. You wiped your hands with a hand towel, “Oh? Is that how we’re playing it?”

“...No…” Luke sheepishly replied, a grin growing on his face when he saw the look of mischief creeping on your face.

“Game on, Castellan,” with that, you dipped both of your hands in flour and chased after the tall boy, who was sprinting around the counter. You caught up with Luke and compromised by smearing flour onto the back of his shirt first. At your attack, he turned around and smeared some more across your face from your other cheek to the top of your nose. You immediately did it back to him.

“Ok, ok, I surrender,” he coughed in between quiet waves of laughter after you smeared some from his cheek down his neck, marking your last attack.

For a moment, Luke and you stood in silence, but when you two let the state of one another sink in, laughs echoed throughout the room again. Luke was able to stop his laughter first, though he was still wearing a wide grin. He washed the flour off his face and dried it with kitchen tissues as you muttered: “Oh, I wish I had a camera. I could practically blackmail you with that photo.”

“I have no doubt you would have never let me live that down,” while replying, Luke also approached you and started wiping the flour off your nose before moving to your cheeks. Your laughter slowly faded as your cheeks heated at the feeling of his hand on your skin. He was looking at you so tentatively. Callous hands - a reflection of his remarkable title as best swordsman - delicately holding your face as if you were the rarest diamond to exist.

Something about this moment felt so domestic. Luke allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that this is how it would feel like to be with you and share cute moments like these together. Luke unbeknownstly let out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in as he made eye contact with you. 

However, the moment was interrupted by another camper who yelped upon seeing you two in the kitchen. The presence of another person caused you two to spring apart. “I’m so sorry, I’ll leave,” the camper muttered, clearly abandoning their plan of stealing food and sweets in the middle of the night. Luke coughed to break the silence.

“So what’s the plan after giving it to Percy?” Luke asked, looking down at the fortune cookies before picking one up and munching on it.

“Hopefully, he’ll finally realize his feelings, and when he does…Percy will come to you, for sure.”

Stage 2: Romantic gesture

You were right, Percy came to Luke for dating advice. As you planned, Luke suggested that Percy make a flower crown for Annabeth. Hence, here the Hermes counselor was - with Percy as he picked out flowers for Annabeth.

"I'm gonna need you to guide me on this 'cause I've never made flower crowns before," Percy muttered as he picked out California Poppins, Annabeth's favorite. Luke grinned at this. He found it interesting how the young boy already knew. "Maybe you could make one for someone special too?" Percy said, his voice somewhat unsure. 

At the young boy's words, Luke froze. The first person that seemed to pop into his mind when Percy said that was you.

"I mean, might as well, right? It's for Valentine's. Maybe you could give it to someone who means a lot to you and makes you happy?" Percy spoke, though there was something instigative about his tone.

Happy. The word bounced in between the walls of Luke's mind. Once again, the first thing that flashed in his head was you. Then, a surge of images came running from memories of you two. He almost could not remember happiness before you. A warm feeling embedded in his chest as he pictured your smile. Just seeing you happy seemed to do it for him, like you could spread happiness to him by just looking at him. You were like the first glimmer of daylight after a cold night. He subconsciously smiled at that thought.

You have always made him feel loved, even though he knew you were probably doing it platonically. However, he would gladly take any form of love that he could receive from you. Every day, waking up and knowing he had you in his life was good enough for him. Maybe he should try giving you more hints. Maybe you'll finally see it. Perhaps Percy was right with the flower crown idea. 

“Uhm, sure,” with that, Luke decided to take some of your favorite flowers into his hand and went to a nearby table, where he started guiding Percy on how to make a flower crown. However, ever so often, his mind would trail to its own thoughts whenever he focused on making this flower crown for you.

Percy watched Luke as the older boy started intensely working on his own flower crown, crafting it with so much care as if it was an artwork intended for a national museum. If Percy didn’t know better, he would think Luke was a perfectionist.

Meanwhile, you were sitting with Annabeth near the ocean where she had previously pushed Percy into the waters, leading to Poseidon claiming him. You asked, “Any plans for Valentine’s Day?” 

“No, you?”

“Nope.”

“Oh?” she replied, though you tilted your head at the tone of her voice. “I’m just surprised,” Annabeth explained as she looked out at the ocean instead of at you. “I mean…I thought you and Luke…”

“Huh?—”

“Well, I mean, you two are together all the time, and there seems to be something going on —”

“What do you mea—”

“It always seems like you two would gravitate to one another. I just assumed you two were together already—”

“We’re…just friends,” you settled on saying, though you could hear your heart beating loudly, seemingly echoing near your chest and neck. Of course, you knew you had feelings for Luke. However, you have always ruled it as a silly little crush.

“...You sure? You sound really unsure,” Annabeth challenged, making you sigh. 

“I mean, he’s really sweet, and nice…”

“Uh-huh”

“And he makes me laugh all the time…”

“That’s good,” Annabeth’s words echoed as you sunk into silence and started reflecting on who Luke was to you. He has always made you feel cared for. Out of everybody at camp, perhaps he was the one you were most comfortable with, never having to be afraid of being yourself. Almost all of your favorite memories at camp included him in them. 

You remember the night you told him about your minor fear of the darkness and how he promised to always protect you in it. In a way, since then, he has become your light. You always felt lit up when he made his way to you. Your eyes are always drawn to him like a moth to its flame. Then, it finally dawned on you how serious your feelings were. You realized how most of the time you seemed to be mindless about the existence of your heart until Luke was around because it was only then that your heart would tug or race to run you breathless. You gulped as your eyes darted around slightly. 

“I mean…maybe…” you started but snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Luke’s voice. And there it was again, the silly familiar tug your heart was doing just from his voice. “Hey…” you greeted Luke and Percy before noticing Percy with a flower crown in his hand. 

“Annabeth, can I speak to you privately?” Annabeth stood up and gestured for Percy to lead the way, presumably somewhere, so the young boy could give her the flower crown and ask her out on Valentine’s Day. You remained seated, still pondering at your feelings and wondering when they had exponentially grown that much. 

“I actually have something for you as well,” you finally looked up at Luke when he said this. You noticed he had his hands behind his back. Something about the way he looked now seemed so shy and timid, which was unlike the outgoing and confident boy you always knew.

Your mouth fell agape when he pulled out a flower crown made of your favorite flower. “Luke…” you said his name and stood up when you saw the item.

However, because your eyes were on his gift, you didn’t notice the way Luke’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice calling out his name. He never thought it was anything special until November two years ago when you said his name while laughing at one of his jokes by the campfire. It was probably a moment you did not remember, but ever since then, he felt so sure that he was named so because the name sounded like it was born just for the sole purpose of being sounded from your lips. 

“I made this for you,” he muttered, though it sounded almost like a whisper. His eyes shifted to both of your Converses instead of at you. Something about this made him so nervous as if he was handing you his heart instead of a simple gift. He almost scowled at himself for acting like a boy in kindergarten, confessing to his crush.

If only Luke was looking at you because you were looking at him and the item in awe. Your cheeks flushed from his gesture. Though, you were somewhat glad he was not looking at you because you were sure one look at you right now would tell Luke exactly everything about your feelings. You were a blushing mess. “Luke, thank you so much. This is beautiful. I can’t believe you made one for me.”

You touched Luke’s hand that was holding the crown, and he almost grew an even deeper shade of red. “Put it on my head,” you instructed, and he obliged just like everything else you would ask. He was sure he must have caught a sickness or something for wanting to follow you this blindly. But you were perhaps the only one with the power to get him to do absolutely anything. Just as the crown touched your hair, you peered up at him, and the sight alone made Luke swallow nervously. 

You looked breathtaking.

And he meant this literally because Luke felt like he stopped breathing for a second. He could not look away. That was until you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him. His arms wrapped around your neck almost immediately to return the hug as if they existed to only hold you. 

However, unlike the hundreds of hugs before, this one felt different. It was as if something had shifted and was bound to unfold.

Final Stage: Valentine’s Day

Annabeth had said yes.

You were ecstatic to learn that the young girl had agreed to go on a Valentine’s date with Percy. Even though you didn’t want to intrude, you and Luke decided to just have a peep to see what Percy had planned. You were not planning to stay long. It was just a sort of reward or a way to see your plan grow into fruition. You smiled when you spot the cute picnic date near the shore.

“See, I told you the plan was going to work,” you muttered as you tiptoed up in your converses to peer at the kids through the tall bushes nearby. You almost lost balance and step onto Luke's shoes that were similar to yours, except his was red.

The boy quickly steadied you with his hand on your waist. You muttered a quick thank you before turning back to the kids, trying to ignore the blush that was slowly decorating your cheeks. But you were quickly caught off guard at the sight of Percy and Annabeth pushing a small boat off the shore and hopping on it.

“Uhm…that is not what I expected. Where are they going?” Luke looked over your shoulder when you said that. Your eyes fluttered at his warm breath hitting your neck. 

However, you noticed the two kids looking like they were in trouble and panicking as they quickly started rowing away. You turned your head towards Luke, forgetting he was very close to you. Your voice faltered as you were about to utter your next sentence. Noticing this, Luke turned to you, only causing the two of you to come face to face with little distance in between. You gulped and forced yourself not to glance down at his lips, “Do you think they’re okay? Should we follow them? I mean…what if they’re in trouble?”

Seeing the worried look on your face, Luke frowned. He deeply disliked anything that caused that kind of expression on your face. Hence, he decided to go over to the second boat there and started pushing it towards the water. “Come on,” you hopped onto the small boat with him and started rowing after Percy and Annabeth, hoping to help them from whatever trouble they were seeming to have.

After a few minutes of rowing behind them, you saw Percy and Annabeth rowing into a small tunnel. Luke and you quickly followed in, rowing your boat, only to be engulfed by darkness upon entering the tunnel.

The wind blew much harder in there, causing goosebumps on your arm as your hand gripped your oar tightly. To make matters worse, it was your most hated type of darkness - utter pitch black. Even with your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could see nothing, not even Luke. 

You were fine with darkness in familiar places like your cabin, where you knew at least there were other campers around and you were safe. You were also mostly fine with darkness where you could see as your eyes adjusted to it. But here, you were in a tunnel you’ve never been in, where there were possibly monsters that could attack you at any moment. 

You were slightly startled by the hand that softly touched yours that, unbeknownst to you, was crushing the wooden oar. You immediately recognize it was Luke’s hand from the warmth and familiar touch. He soothingly ran his thumb across your hand. His actions were proven effective at calming you down when you could feel your grip loosen around the tool.

“Breathe, sweet girl,” his words somehow made you release the breath you were subconsciously holding.

A few seconds later, the lights were turned on. You were met with one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. Lights were decorating the path throughout the tunnel. There were also plants and trees with extended branches and leaves that softly brushed past the boat Luke and you were on. 

Suddenly, you both heard a tune start playing quietly in the background, almost quiet enough to make you two think you were imagining it:

“There you see her, sitting there across the way.

She don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about her”

His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing over your knuckles even though the darkness was no longer casting over the both of you. His eyes were absorbing how you looked at that moment, embracing it. You were absolutely stunning and he was hopelessly infatuated with you. 

“And you don’t know why, but you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl.”

The lyrics made Luke subconsciously lick his lips as he pictured himself kissing you. Gods, he wondered if his heart would even survive doing so and whether anything would ever surpass getting to kiss you. Your eyes flickered to Luke's lips, and he noticed it. He also noticed how your cheeks flushed as you gulped at his actions.

“Luke.”

“Y/N,” you almost melted at the way Luke was saying your name as if it was an honor or privilege to do so. The tone he used was sweeter than any dessert you have ever had. Gods, it was as if your name was a sacred passage he lived by.

“Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do”

Indeed he was looking at you, and it felt almost like he was spellbound because he could not take his eyes off you. Right then, you could see it all - he was utterly smitten. He was giving you a soft smile. The lights decorating the tunnel shimmered in his eyes, illuminating just enough to display his pupils and how they almost completely overtook the usual dark brown color that you love. Before you knew it, he was leaning closer to you on the small boat and you mirrored his action.

“Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her…”

Just when Luke was inches from your face, he stopped. His eyes longingly stare at your lips like a long-awaited dream that was within his grasp but not quite within his grip yet. You noticed how he took a deep breath as if mustering all the drops of courage he had. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before he opened them again. 

“Can I?” he uttered only two words, but somehow, his voice conveyed enough the yearning coursing through every inch of his body. Luke gulped as he restrained himself from closing the distance and waited for your consent. 

You nodded wordlessly.

“It don’t take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl.”

Almost instantly, he caressed both sides of your face and sealed the deal.

All the glory Luke has gained throughout the years seemed trivial compared to kissing you. It almost convinced him that everything he had gone through to get here today was worth it. He hummed against your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Kissing you felt like the best gift he had ever gotten in his entire life. Luke knew he was forever screwed from the way it felt. He could not fathom the idea of his lips ever touching anyone else’s. Maybe they were made for you, but his heart and mind do not seem to oppose that idea.

You slowly slid your arms down, allowing your hands to caress his jawline and the sides of his face. However, your hands slightly jolted at the pace of his heartbeat along the side of his neck. It was as if his heart was trying to break out of his body. Your own heart started replicating the same rhythm. It had you flustered that you had such an effect on him. 

Luke broke away from the kiss breathlessly. For a second, he hated the idea of needing air to live because if he could, he would not have stopped showing you how much his lips belonged to you. His forehead leaned against yours while his hands rested on your hips. He looked at you endearingly as if he could not fathom that he just got to kiss you. You smiled at the sight of him.

“I know I’m a tad bit late, but will you be my Valentine?” he sweetly asked. 

“Of course, Luke.” Luke grinned at your answer. He drew you in for another kiss as giggles escaped your lips and echoed through the tunnel that now marked an important memory for the two of you.

You truly must be Cupid because your plan not only worked for Percy and Annabeth, but somehow also indirectly gave Luke and you the nudge you both needed.

14th February marked the day when two Cupids wearing Converses got their happy ending. 

Bonus:

“I told you that would work,” Annabeth whispered to Percy as the two hopped back onto their boat with a speaker in hand, rowing away hastily to be out of sight from the older couple.

Little did you know, Annabeth had orchestrated the whole thing, including the conversation between her and Percy about their mission in front of Luke and you. Annabeth’s plan of getting Luke and you together through playing cupid together had seemingly worked just like she had planned.

Who said you were the only cupid at Camp Half-Blood?

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

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[philistiniphagottini]

Embrace of Messmer's Flame

Elden Ring hoes, come out from whence ye hide. There is smut a plenty. Dither not, come out say I.

In all seriousness, I've been getting back into Elden Ring and you can bet I am enchanted by Messmer so much that I had to write something for him. Hope you enjoy :)

cw. smut, fingering (fem receiving), squirting, light bondage, female reader, MDNI

“Ahh, Messmer…”

You tasted his name on your tongue, letting it sit in your mouth like cloyingly sweet honey as it warmed your parched throat. You squirmed in your Lord’s lap, your bare back nestled to his chest as the heat he radiated warmed your skin, searing hot flames licking along the notches of your spine. Your lips parted around harsh pants, the air permeating the throne room stuffy as every hair on the nape of your neck stood up in anticipation. Small puffs of air stemmed from your bruised lips and goosebumps prickled along your arms despite the stifling heat coiling low in the pit of your stomach. You sucked down a harsh gasp when you felt Messmer’s hands trail along your body, naked flesh so pliant under his firm touch as his nails ghosted along your shivering frame. 

A pleased hum stirred in Messmer’s throat, a single, golden eye gleaming in the dim light as he watched your body twitch with rapt attention. His fingers walked along your torso as your hands scrambled for purchase in his lap, your smaller frame completely engulfed in his shadow. Your hands curled around the tops of his sturdy thighs, fingers mindlessly digging into his soft skin as you tried to keep yourself seated in his lap. Your shoulders almost jumped up to your ears when you felt his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear, tongue flickering between the seam of his lips as he cooed your name in a husky tone. 

“My, thou doth squirm so impatiently” Messmer noted, his tongue clicking behind his teeth. “Thou wisheth to be coddled so?”

You nodded along dumbly to his words, stuffing your trembling lips between your teeth as you idly chewed on the plump skin. The heat in your body continued to spike, the hot knot in the pit of your stomach twisting tighter as Messmer’s large hands squeezed your soft belly until the pudge spilled over between the splayed digits. You let go of your kiss swollen lips when you felt cool scales brush against your boiling skin, the soft flicker of a forked tongue tickling your thigh and making you tense. The snakes bound to Messmer started to slowly coil around your body, smooth scales wrapping around your skin as they twisted and weaved their serpentine bodies between your legs. The red scales were pressed so tight to your skin it looked like they were adorned to your flesh, their bodies constricting tighter the more you struggled. They were content to warm their cold scales on your heated skin as your legs were coaxed further apart, your sticky thighs slipping when you tried to press them together again. 

Your soused lashes fluttered over your warm cheeks as a soft whimper bubbled up your throat, heart thundering in your chest and pulse droning like the beat of a drum in your ears. Beads of your arousal dripped down the trembling insides of your legs, your scent so thick and heavy Messmer could taste it on the back of his tongue with every breath he took. He nudged his nose into your soft hair, wisps of his flaming locks tickling your cheeks as he leaned forward and slipped his hand betwixt your supple thighs. You moaned sweetly for him as his fingers brushed along the dripping seam of your cunt, your arousal pooling into the palm of his hand as his fingers toyed with the puffy folds. A noise of content rumbled in his chest, his voice vibrating along your back with pleasant tingles as he dipped the tips of his fingers into your creamy folds. 

“Hmm, flowing like a river…”

You whined as his fingers pushed against your silky lips, your wet pussy opening up like a delicate flower in bloom as nectar dribbled from your core. A constellation of unshed tears clung to the edges of your lashes, a wet sob threatening to crawl out of your throat from his addictive touch. Your head was stuffed full with so much cotton that you could barely think past the thick haze swirling in your mind, your dazed eyes lidded as you watched your Lord play with the pretty pearl of your clit until you were mewling from the want that seared your insides. He hushed you as his free hand crawled back over your chest, your head tipping back as he rested the palm of his hand against the hollow of your throat. A warm chuckle breezed past his lips as his fingers tipped your chin, causing your mouth to snap shut and stem the flow of drool that was leaking from your lips. You felt a flush of embarrassment. But the only sound that was wrenched from your spit soaked lips was one of bliss as a thick finger sank into your fluttering hole. 

Your grip on his legs tightened as you arched up into his touch, hips shuddered as they canted forward into the push of his finger. Your plush walls clenched around the intrusion, your pussy drooling and slobbering filthily as it tried to hungrily swallow more. The heat coiled and twisted inside of you like an untamed inferno and your silent plea was answered when a second finger slipped inside of you. The audible squelch coming from between your legs made the tips of your ears burn red hot, your breath wavering as you were stretched around two thick digits. There was a light burning sensation at the apex of your thighs as you were scissored open, a third finger teasing your dripping hole as you squirmed. The snakes wound around your body constricted you further, controlling the cant of your hips as one contented itself with nudging its head into the soft skin of your round belly. 

“Hush, little culver” Messmer soothed. “Thy struggles shalt only entice them.”

Your sensitive walls fluttered around the press of his fingers as he soothed you further, the tension leaving your body as you were coaxed further into relaxing. The twin snakes eased their grip once you ceased your futile struggles, pleasure mounting in your belly as you fought to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. More slick dripped down the sides of Messmer’s fingers as he pushed them deeper, pressing against the soft, gummy patch inside of you that had stars swirling in your vision. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as he pressed further still, reaching the most sacred parts of you that no one else had touched. Your chest heaved with exertion, tits bouncing eagerly into the touch of Messmer’s hand as he groped a soft breast and squeezed. A noise of curiosity chimed in your ear as Messmer leaned over you, watching his fingers disappear between your silky folds with a lidded gaze. You couldn’t contain the shudder that wracked your spine, a high pitched moan falling from your parted lips when the pert bud of your nipple was pinched between deft fingers. Your fingers clawed at his legs as your thighs quivered and the snakes softly hissing below you threatened to constrict you once more if you continued to wriggle.

“My Lord” you rasped, voice barely above a breathy whisper. “I don’t think…”

Your voice trailed off as you swallowed the budding saliva on your tongue. You don’t think he heard your wavering voice as he continued to pump his fingers inside your swollen cunt, fingers kissing your cervix with each slow roll of his wrist. You tried to clamp your legs shut around his thick wrist, desperately wanting to keep his fingers pressed against the hot nerves that shocked you like a live wire. But you were thwarted by Messmer’s dear snakes as your legs were forced further apart. You were helpless as you felt every torturous drag, the tips of Messmer’s fingers tingling as he familiarised himself with the spongy patch deep inside of you. A sound akin to a hiss whistled through his teeth as his fingers pushed against the opening of your womb, your pussy trembling as he bullied his fingers into the tender spot until something inside of you felt like it was going to break. You babbled nonsense, incoherent words flying from your lips as the pressure inside of you boiled over and the coil in your stomach shattered. 

You writhed in Messmer’s lap, his name lodged in the back of your throat as your veins were flooded with white hot relief. Your plush walls squeezed his fingers snug, overstimulated clit kicking weakly against the press of his thumb as the tightly packed bundle of nerves flushed under his firm touch. A rush of slick juices squirted from your sore cunt, strings of translucent fluid webbing between Messmer’s fingers as crystalline tears shimmered in your hazy eyes. Your hips twitched, your body unable to decide whether to shy away or lean into his touch. Your mind was too fuzzy to focus on anything other than the simmering heat building up inside of you yet again, the rough texture of his accursed fingers splitting open the folds of your pussy driving every single nerve in your body into overdrive. However, you were offered a reprieve when Messmer decided to relent and give your poor, mortal flesh time to recover. 

You whined when he removed his fingers from you with a loud pop, your pussy clenching around nothing and mourning the loss of being stuffed full. Beads of sweat dotted your clammy skin, lungs pinching in your chest as you greedily gulped down air. Your bones resonated with a deep and satisfied ache as Messmer’s hand came to rest on your throat once more, fingers wrapped around your fragile neck, not hard enough to choke but firm enough to keep you grounded to this realm of existence. 

“Good girl” Messmer praised, lips brushing against your temple. 

The tips of your fingers felt numb as you felt one of the snakes bunt its head against your palm, resting its face into the warm touch of your hand as a curious tongue tasted the perspiration dotting your skin. Messmer pushed a sticky finger past the seam of your lips, your moans vibrating against his skin as he pressed the digit down on your tongue. A pleasant shiver itched at the base of your skull as you tasted your arousal on his skin, lazily sucking as the lingering heat of your explosive high still simmered in your veins, body burning and silently hungry for your lord to give you more.