#ask: soulmate

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

[ nightmare ] from the soulmates prompts.

(you knew this would be coming didn't you? <3 choose the setting, universe, etc.)

  Hal wasn't known for her ability to sleep. Only when she felt completely safe, did rest finally come. But it wasn't always peaceful and most of the time, she woke unrested. Finding her soulmate was something that few thought she would do. Not that it came as a surprise, given the nature of her nightmares.

  Falling asleep in Rivendell had not been planned but the Dwarves were there, so the young Ranger felt safe. Yet her dreams weren't peaceful this time. Dark grey eyes blinked as she found herself standing within Bree. Watching a much younger 9 year old peer around the legs of men dressed in the neutral colours of the Dúnedain.

"I'm not someone you'd want as a soulmate..."

@eskelwolf

[melissa7102004]

Oh.

[undertale-writing-times]

Dreammafia brothers

They have an Soulmate who's name is written on their palm.

It's unknown when you meet but nobody has quite the same name somehow.

That's all!

Have fun with this!

Pride: If Pride had a name on the palm of his hand, he would reread it before going to bed every night and sometimes he would check it out in the Police Database to see if hey, maybe they were a criminal? Luckily, no, they weren't. He would keep an eye and ear out for anything that sounded like the name and maybe even pull in a few favors to find the person. Is it weird? Kind of, but he loved the idea of soulmates! They made him so happy and he wanted his soulmate.

Envy: He would 100% go out of his way to find the person with his name. He would tell his boys the name he had and to keep an eye out for anyone that has that name, and if they find them, bring them home. Envy hates knowing that there is something he is owed, but not able to have yet. Plus, you know, he would be the best boyfriend!

[dirtytransmasc]

What's in your opinion alicent's healthier relationship in the show? And what's your favorite?

I think her healthiest relationship is her friendship with Criston. he is the one person truly sworn to her, who will protect her and listen to her and be a shoulder for her to cry on in her court. he also understood what it was like to be taken advantage of by royals who held such immense power of their heads that it was no use to try and fight them. they were allies and friends and damn near only means of staying sane. he was sworn to her on his own will and he was by her side till the very end. he also had s good relationship with her kids and was most likely the closest thing they ever had to a father, especially as they got older and during the dance. I think he was probably the one person she felt truly safe with, and he allowed her the room to breathe and let out her worries and angers she otherwise had to keep bottled up. not to mention she literally saved his life and gave him a time and place to attempt to regain his honor and serve her as he wished. they're both so sad and pathetic (affectionatly) and I love them so much.

my favorite though (even if her and Cole's is very close to being my favorite) is her and Aegon. they have this messy mother/son relationship that just shatters my heart. he was born to her husband and rapist into her prison that was the red keep and the death of what remained of her childhood and yet she still loved him more than anyone could ever imagine in such a messy and frankly painful way. they're so complex and the emotions are so high strung and it's all just so fascinating to poke around at and analyze. you never love something like you love your eldest child, they say, and we see that with Alicent even when she struggles to parent him, because she was a child too when she had him and he is a bit of s troublemaker she doesn't know how to handle. Aegon is an amazing and flawed character as well, while not the best person, and the relationship he has with his mom, where he is just longing for her to be soft with him to love him constantly while also keeping the wedge between them is just *chefs kiss*. I love them and all their messy mommy issues.

[wolfisblank]

So there was this nightmare session...

[electronic-elevator]

engie being so torn, cause on one hand, they love love love when the captains holds them after he wets, stroking his cheek and telling him it’s okay, he did his best, and when they help him clean up so no one else knows, they feel so special and safe and loved, but also!!!! they can’t just keep having accidents like this!!!!!! in front of them, no less!!!! it’s embarrassing, and he really is running out of jumpsuits, but........... it’s still nice..... maybe, when he knows they won’t be busy, and there’s no scheduled work with other crew mates, and it’s just the two of them, they’re maybe only PRETENDING that he hasn’t noticed how bad he has to go, waiting for cap to say something, anticipating their comfort......... 🥺🥺🥺 CAP AND ENGIE BOTH SECRETLY LIKING IT........ ughugughuhguh engie clutching at his dick through his jumpsuit to try and hold it, but the panic starts to meld with pleasure, and the rocking becomes more about that low burn in his cock than stopping himself from peeing, and when he finally, finally wets, he could probably pass off the breathless moans as from relief, but then he realises his dick is so obviously hard now his jumpsuits all wet and clinging to his skin...... or when the caps helping him clean up, unzipping his soaked jumpsuit, they realise why he’s so much more flustered and red than usual, his cock twitching at their gentle touch...... 🥺 it just!!!! feels good!!!!

between the embarrassment not only of wetting himself but of kind-of-sort-of having done it on purpose AND now the Captain seeing him hard and why he's reacting like this... but he doesn't want to ask them to leave; they still want their help cleaning up... and maybe more, because let's be real, the Engineer has been in love with the Captain for ages, even if they've never done this before. Engie's flustered and it's difficult to think and they mumble out an apology, claiming they don't know why, but the Captain says it's okay, and they seem flustered, too

honestly my main hc for these two is like. they've repressed their feelings for each other since the academy and so are entirely unlikely to switch gears and Go For It the first time this happens. so Cap just helping Engie get sorted, like usual, but god he can't stop thinking about the way it felt; the way he had to bite his lip to keep from asking Cap for more even after they'd gotten him clean. The Captain alternately wondering if they'd gone too far, or if they should've asked if he wanted them to go further... That night, Engie whimpering the Captain's title into his pillow, thrusting into his hand...

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (ii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

part one

summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol

—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.

word count: 6.42k

warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)

a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33

At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 

They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.

The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.

And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.

His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.

At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.

The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.

But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.

Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.

And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.

Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.

His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.

Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 

But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 

Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.

He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.

Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.

In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.

Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 

It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.

His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.

You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.

Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.

For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.

"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 

Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.

Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 

"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.

Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.

As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."

After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."

"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"

Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.

You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.

"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."

Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.

"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"

"I miss my mommy."

Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.

Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 

It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.

The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.

At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.

It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.

"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"

"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.

"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.

Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.

"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"

"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."

"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."

Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"

"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.

"What?"

"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."

"What happened to the other half?"

"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."

"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"

The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.

"Let's get you back to your cabin."

Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.

He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.

Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.

But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.

"Luke?"

The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 

It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.

"Hey," he managed to say.

You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"

"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 

"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"

"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.

"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"

"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.

You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."

The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.

Were you waiting for him there tonight? 

No, you couldn't have.

Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"

"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."

Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."

"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."

"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.

As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.

Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.

"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.

"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.

"I think your soulmate is really cool." 

Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.

Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.

As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.

She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.

"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"

Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"

Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"

"No. I didn't forget."

She only stared at him, skeptical.

"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"

Luke frowned, confused.

"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"

"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."

"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."

"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."

Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 

"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"

The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.

"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."

Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.

"She's leaving?"

"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."

"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.

"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."

It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 

Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.

The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 

Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.

There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.

As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.

Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.

"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."

The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.

Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."

"You want to talk...? To me?" 

"I hope it's not that bizzare."

He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.

He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 

Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.

You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.

Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."

As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 

"I think you're too late for that."

"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.

"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"

"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.

With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 

"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."

"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."

"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"

"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.

You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."

Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.

Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.

“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.

“For what?” you asked.

“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."

"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"

Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.

As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.

His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.

"Didn't think I'd see you here."

A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.

Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."

"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."

"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."

Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."

Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."

She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.

Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 

"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"

As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-

"I choose Luke."

The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?

Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"

You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.

"I'm sure," you affirmed.

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[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — prologue | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus is his own warning, mentions of death, elitism, self harm (Coryo burns his wrist)

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 eight year old Coryo finds out who his soulmate is and his feelings about it

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 this is the first official post about this series that I started on a whim! I am excited to see where this goes, please give me feedback, thank you!

series taglist | series masterlist | navigation

It started with Sejanus. Despite being friends with the boy, eight-year-old Coriolanus Snow couldn't help but loathe the fact the boy had District blood.

Sejanus' presence in the Capitol Academy was an insult to all of Capitol. He couldn't comprehend how it was all allowed before he heard the whispers. Sturbo Plinth bought his way in with money.

Money. The one thing a Snow should be entitled to and yet has none of. Even the power his name held was dwindling. Coriolanus will do anything to make sure ‘Snow lands on top'.

With that vow, Coryo gently brushed his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. A number, something of significance for his soulmate. Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he traced over the dark lines. He felt instantly calm.

Everything is going to be alright.

His soulmate will be a princess, a goddess, a rich Capitol girl no one can compare to. He will have a happy ending with her. Snows will rise on top, and his girl will be beside him every step of the way. The First Lady of Panem as he will be the president.

He vividly remembers the day all of his hopes were crushed. It was a couple of weeks after Sejanus started attending the academy. The boy was mocked by everyone, and Coriolanus thought it was deserved, a district boy was nothing more than an animal.

Then came the district girl, this one from District One, the district closest to the Capitol. But still not the same. The girl from the district was the prettiest he had ever seen. Although she's district. She had claimed the hearts of the teachers, and in return received many privileges. It was rumored that even the dean had a soft spot for her.

It was understandable why. She was a girl with a sweet smile, a secret sharp tongue, and hidden cruelty in her eyes he wasn't sure anyone saw except him. Her eyes always softened when she looked at him but she was always friendlier with Sejanus. Pea in a pod sticks together after all.

It was a bright day, a hot summer making him sweat in his uniform more than the walk to the academy did. That was the day he felt his heart break, and soul crushed. It was completely by accident. Sejanus and you thinking that maybe, you were soulmates. And Coriolanus thought so too, after all, you both were so close, attached to the hip.

Coriolanus felt like he was intruding into something private whenever he was near you both. With your shared giggles and secret smiles, you were as close as children could be.

When you raise your shirt sleeve revealing your soulmate's tattoo, the date is meant to be the most significant to your soulmate. Sejanus didn't recognize it but Coriolanus did, much to his nightmare.

It was the date most important to him. It was the day of his mother's and unborn sister's death. The day he lost someone he held so close to his heart. That's the number etched on your skin.

No. No! He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your yelp and the protest from Sejanus. His eyes were wide and he felt his body shake. “No. . .” He whispered, a sob in his throat.

“What's wrong?” You asked, trying to get your hand out of his hold, and due to his weak, underweight body, you did it easily enough. You rub your wrist and wait for Coryo's answer.

You don't get one because Coriolanus Snow had turn away and begun to walk away from you and Sej.

When he reached his home, his body was shaking and fat drops of tears falling from his eyes. A district girl as his? Never, never in a thousand years. His dead father would have been so disappointed. He refused to accept her as his.

He won't. Ever.

Tigris tried to ask what happened, but Coryo ignored her. He went into the kitchen, turning on the stove. The fire burned blue and orange. He didn't hesitate, ignoring the scream from Tigris as he put his wrist forward. He bit his lips to not scream himself.

By that time, Tigris had pulled him back. The skin had burned, along with it was gone the soulmate tattoo of his. He let himself sob as Tigris tried to fix him up as much as she could. She didn't scold him, couldn't, when he was crying like he had lost everything, all of his dreams shattered and the reality had settled in.

This was ten years ago, he decided he had no soulmate.

Now as eighteen, he wondered if it would remain true.

next chapter!

Taglist: @tristanswildcat

[inuyashaluver]

Firstly wanted to say thank you for your fics, they NEVER disappoint 🫶

And I wanted to request something with Grace Clinton, maybe a soft/hard launch with a non-footballer gf?

girlfriend - grace clinton

grace clinton x reader

description: in which your girlfriend is tired of keeping the love of her life a secret, thus, you get a special invitation to her debut with her national team

warnings: nothing really!! not proofread because its me

a/n: STOPPP, thank you so much for the love and support you are so incredibly sweet, please enjoyyyyy, i'm rusty like don't mind me AHHAHAH, clearing out my drafts and requests as we speak!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, grace, long story short are soulmates. you have known grace pretty much your entire life and have never felt such a huge amount of love for anyone as much as you did with her. 

grace has always been in love with you, she doesn’t remember a time where she hasn’t been. and that just sums up your entire relationship, completely and utterly in love.

—

you and grace have known each other ever since you were 7. you were both placed in the same class at school, grace known for her class clown personality while you just smiled at her antics while working on your studies.

you two gravitated towards each other quicker than ever expected, being the best of friends until you were both 17 and grace finally asked you to be her girlfriend. an absolute surprise to not only the both of you, but everyone else around you. 

while grace was playing football, you were her biggest cheerleader on the side, her ‘lucky charm’ as she loved to call you. you did absolutely everything together, the best partner for life.

in your adult lives, you moved in together, grace playing football while you were in veterinarian school. it worked so well, it was so effortless, so easy and it was absolutely the best.

—

you had the privilege of being able to travel around the uk as grace joined different clubs, and grace was so incredibly grateful for you. 

something to know about your girlfriend, she was incredibly private. grace hated the thought of you being a secret but she was so protective.

she often had nightmares of you being found by crazy friends and getting harassed, and that was why she kept you private. her work and social life completely separate.

you didn’t mind it, you and grace were secure amongst yoursleves and within your relationship to not find it offensive. you both loved each other and that was all that really mattered.

all her teammates, your friends and family knew about your relationship and knew how much you meant to each other, and that was enough for both of you.

there were subtle hints here and there, people knew grace had a partner, she just didn’t want to give anyone details. both of your instagrams had soft hints towards your relationship, but nothing too obvious or completely out there.

you would come to every match without fail, always waiting for her at the end of the match.

—

she spots you sitting in the stands, clad in her jersey with a proud smile on your face as you watched her sign things and take photos with fans. she felt herself grow shy at the pure look of admiration on your face.

when people began to leave, she smiles over at you, you smile at the girl, nodding your head flirtily as she gave you a cheeky wave with a wink.

she gestures to the tunnel, meaning to follow her to the back later on. you nod, laughing at her cheeky antics, you pucker your lips up jokingly and she rolls her finger in a circle to hint for you to hurry up so she could say hello.

you wait for her in the carpark, perched up against your shared car, she rushes out excitedly, clearly out of breath but she smiles so brightly when she sees you, her most favourite person in the entire world.

you open your arms out to her expectantly and she walks into them with a relieved breath, hugging you around the middle tightly.

“hi, baby” she whispered in your ear, her lips giving you a subtle kiss on the shell of your ear. “hi, gracie girl”, you chuckle, rubbing your hands up and down her back before you pulled apart, puckering your lips up at her teasingly. she smirks, her hand cupping the underside of your jaw to pull you into a loving kiss. 

“i missed you” she breathes out against your lips, you smile, pecking them, “i missed you too, baby, two hours is way too long” you chuckle mockingly, kissing her a little longer this time.

she smiles in the kiss, drawing you in closer with her hands on your waist, “two hours felt like two days” she mocks, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as she walked you to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for you and closing it once you were seated.

“you played so well today, gracie baby” you smile at her when she puts her seatbelt on, she grins so sheepishly, cheeks pink no matter the time or place when it came to you.

“cause you were there” she shakes her head in your face, kissing your lips tenderly before she grabbed your hand to hold as she drove.

—

when grace got transferred to tottenham, things fast tracked. 

“baby, it’s only fair” grace groans, flopped on top of you as you were under the covers in the early hours of the morning. “gracie, i love you, but please, no” you beg, speaking up from under the blanket.

she sighs, smushing her face into your stomach over the blanket, “babe!” she yells, muffled by the blankets, you rip the blankets off your face, giving her your best scowl when she looked up at you from the movement.

“please, no, it’s too early” you exclaim, grace smiles at you, clearly amused by your attempt at anger on your features. “you got to pick dinner, and the movie last night” grace reminds, “i knew you let me pick because you wanted something,” you tutt, shaking your head.

she gasps, her hand clutching her chest, “i would do no such thing!” she moves up to straddle your waist as you hold yourself up by your elbows.

“my ass” you whisper, letting your girlfriend press a sweet kiss to your lips, “please” she pouts. her hands moving the blanket off you to hold your waist, kissing you again. you hum against her, clearly her little plan had worked.

“please come to training” she whispers, her words fluttering over your lips. you roll your eyes fondly, nodding and letting your girlfriend kiss your cheeks repeatedly, pulling you up from the bed excitedly.

the girl had already picked out your clothes, that’s how confident she was that she could get you to come to training with her. her separation anxiety was real.

you laugh when you see the ‘clinton’ hoodie on the top of the pile of clothes, shaking your head but putting it on anyway.

and when you both arrived at training, and you were seen in the training video wearing that hoodie, the questions and speculation were growing tenfold. who was this girl grace brought to training?

you and grace had been chatting after all the bombarding questions reached both of your phones. and you both decided, maybe it was time to put your relationship out in the open. although you both had your worries, you just didn’t want to hide anymore. 

and so after careful deliberation, you and grace would make your relationship official in her debut match for the senior lioness team.

—

grace was so jittery in her hotel room this morning, aggie had to message you that your girlfriend was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. you call her and she picks up a couple seconds after you press the call button.

“baby” she breathes out, clutching onto the phone as she talked to you, “hi, babe, you okay?” you ask her, phone on speaker as you get ready for the game. “i’m okay, just nervous” you hum at her words, “and that’s okay, baby” you remind her and she instantly calms down.

“yeah, i know” she sighs, “i miss you, i can’t wait to see you tonight” she grins, fiddling with the ends of her shorts. you giggle into the phone, “i miss you too baby, i’m very excited to see you” you both chatter back and forth before you hung up.

“i better see clinton on your back, babe, i love you!” she calls out into the phone before she hangs up, getting rushed onto the bus. you laugh, already wearing the england jersey with your girl’s name on the back. like you were a rooke, tsk.

—

you sat with her family in the stands, understanding why grace was so jittery. you watch her train and she looks pale, there’s so much riding on this. she wants to do well, she needs to do well. she needs to impress you.

she waves at you shyly when she spots you, you smile at her brightly, holding your hands up in a heart shape to make her giggle, and it thankfully works. she mimics your gesture, making you giggle as well. you both calmed down after that.

—

the match concludes and she does extremely well, the look of pride on both of your faces was infectious. you cheer loudly when they do a lap of appreciation. and like usual, when she completes her signatures and pictures and walks over to the friends and family section. 

she smiles up at you from the bottom of the pitch, ushering with her hand to come down to where she was.

you smile at her shyly, walking around others to reach her, and when you do, you don't think you’ve ever seen her smile so brightly. “hello, beautiful” she pulls you in by your waste to hug you tenderly, kissing your cheek before she rests her head on your shoulder to feel closer to you. 

“hi, superstar” you hug her tightly, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care. she pulls back to look at you, to really look at you. she may have just debut and reached one of biggest goals of her life, but you’re really the best achievement in her life.

“you’re sure about this?” grace questions, eyes flickering between your own in concern, you smile softly, brushing a stray hair from her forehead and tucking it tenderly behind her ear.

“i’m sure, lovey” she smiles at your words, breathing out happily as she took in your appearance before she placed her hand onto your jaw.

she pulls you into a soft kiss, tame for the public but so incredibly meaningful. you hear the distant cheering of everyone, but it's drowned out with feeling grace’s lips move with yours. it lasts for a couple seconds before she pulls away, resting her forehead on yours.

both of you smile, holding each other tightly, slightly in shock that you were both now official to the public. “finally” she teases, pinching your hip, you laugh, hitting her arm softly before leaning in to peck her lips.

you both see people holding up phones, chattering and talking about the two of you but you both really didn’t care. you had each other and that is all that matters.

though, what you both didn’t expect was the overwhelming amount of support you both gained out of this. the worry was honestly for nothing.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily celin

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

graceclinton_x: she's a big softy

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yourname: says you!!

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↳ graceclinton_x: thanks guys.

[bi-writes]

simon "ghost" riley ⏤ b's masterlist

(18+) — nsfw/sexual content included red — includes dark themes + content, detailed warnings (usually) provided strikethrough — active work in progress ⭐️ — personal favorite

if you would like to know when i post something new, please turn on notifications for @bi-has-written.

one-shots

the lamb experiment — 18+ the 141 are not known for their pliancy. in an effort to take back control, they send a lamb to slaughter.

mercenary!reader x ex-husband!simon — 18+ because there's nothing hotter than being covered in blood and debating whether or not to kill him or fuck him.

the arrangement — arranged-husband!ghost — 18+ ⭐️ what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. the prequel why do you want forever? happily ever after you knew your other half would anything for you. anything.

johnny's a package deal — ghoap x reader — 18+ thinking about crushing on johnny and not realizing you needed permission to approach him. are we friends? you don't think ghost likes you very much.

slasher!ghost — 18+ being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie

knight!arranged-husband!ghost — 18+ 1600s au where john price's wife is your dutiful queen, and you are the doting, shy lady-in-waiting, but, today, something isn't right.

the horror of the inevitable — soulmate!ghost — 18+

the anatomy of us — alpha!ghost x omega!reader — 18+

collections

bestfriend!roommate!simon — 18+ (ongoing) a collection of stories about lieutenant simon "ghost" riley and his childhood best friend who he is really, totally not even a little in love with.

mercenary!ghost — 18+ ⭐️ (ongoing) a collection of stories about ex-lieutenant simon "ghost" riley and the pretty little thing he traps in his cage.

the time rot collection — 18+ (ongoing) a collection of stories that asks what happens when your worst nightmare manifests in every timeline that you exist.

simon's mail-order bride — 18+

simon thoughts collection (18+ tag, one-shots and drabbles, a lot of my content lives here)

please do not copy and paste any of my work on another site. reblogs are appreciated and definitely desired.

i do not support a taglist.

i do take requests but can't always promise answering. they are always welcome in my inbox.

please assume all dividers are by @saradika-graphics

back to complete masterlist

[tartarusknight]

I want more platonic stobin and bisexualy disaster Steve and gay disaster Eddie in my life. So I wrote some :)

Steve wanted to scream as he tried the handle again. "Steve. Steve!" Robin pulled him away from the door. "They aren't opening the door, and you're just gonna break the handle. Keith already hates your guts. Don't make it worse." She pointed out, weirdly calm about all of this. "Plus, it's not like we don't share space normally." She says and sinks down to the floor, tugging him down with her.

Steve looked at the door, "Why can't they accept that we're only ever going to be platonic?" He asks and runs a ran through his hair. He was sick of this. Of the comments and the teasing. It stresses him out.

They kept pushing the two of them together, and Steve was worried that it could mess up what friendship he had with Robin. Because Steve's used to messing up and hurting someone, and he really doesn't want to hurt Robin. He has nightmares of outing her by accident and ruining her life. It terrifies him.

"Steve, come on, it's okay. It's just a stupid bathroom. We've shared a bathroom stall. This is bigger than that." She jokes, and he pulls his knees up to his chest.

"I can't do this, Rob." He admits and watches her freeze. Her walls climbed up like he said something really stupid. "I'm sorry, but I'm just-"

She cuts him off, "I get it. You don't want to deal with the backlash of being a lesbian's friend." She says, and he blinks.

"What? No! I don't want to say the wrong thing. I get bitchy when I'm annoyed and I'm easily annoyed when I'm stressed. And I'm stressed! So I don't - I can't be the one to out you. I can't mess that up for you." He says, and it's nice to finally admit his fears.

Robin blinks at him, "That's what- Steve, that's what bothers you about all this?"

Steve nods, "I mess up everything I touch. I can't do that to you, I won't do that to you. Honestly, you should probably find better friends. One who thinks with his brai-"

"Shut up." Robin snaps, and he stops speaking. Looking at her with wide eyes. "You can't talk about my best friend that way. I won't let you," She states.

"You're best friend?"

Her eyes soften, "yeah dingus. Who else would be my best friend? We're soulmates," She decides, and he's confused because she sounds like she means it. "Platonic, with a capital p, soulmates."

He swallows back a ball of emotion, "even if all the kids I babysit-"

"Mother."

"Babysit," he stresses, and she smiles. "Try to get us together at every opportunity and won't believe that we aren't in love. Or that I'm in love with you at the least. I think you're better off because you call me dingus more than my name," he mused.

Robin sighed, "I won't say that it's not annoying. But I'm used to dodging questions about boys, and this way... with you, I have someone to be myself with. That's more important to me than some stupid preteens who think locking us in a bathroom would get us together."

Steve smiles, "last time we shared a bathroom did go pretty well, honestly." She knocked her knee into his. He glanced over at the door. "Do you think they'll give up?"

Robin snorts, "Dustin's more invested in your love life than you are. I don't think he'll give up unless you're dating someone else or the truth comes out."

Steve sighed, chewing his lower lip until something clicked in his head. "What If I come out?"

Robin blinked, "you- what?"

Steve nodded, "I mean I like both but I could just say I favor guys." He shrugs, "it's not like they could disprove it since it's mostly true."

Robin stared at him, "Steve... since when did you- what? Steve oh my god," She shifted onto her knees and slammed into him. "Since fucking when! Why didn't you ever tell me!"

Steve raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean since when? I literally point out hot guys all the time! When we watched watched Rocky Horror, I said Tim Curry was sexy!"

She shook his shoulders, "you did no such thing! You ask if I also think a guy is hot and you said- oh." It clicks for her and she falls back on her ass. She covers her face, "holy shit."

Steve smirks, "holy shit."

A giggle escapes her lips, "you so have a type."

"Shut up," he groans.

But before they can really dig into it, there's a loud knock on the door. "We're gonna open the door in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The door swings in a Dustin's hand is over his eyes like he's gonna be scarred at the sight of them.

"We're literally just sitting on the floor Henderson. Not having freaky bathroom sex," Steve rolls his eyes and stands, Robin following suit.

Dustin looks upset like he expect his plan to work. "I don't get it." Steve ruffles his hair as he passes the kid. Robin lets out a small laugh as she stretches her limbs like she had been stuck in there for more than just 15 minutes. Steve turns, and she locks eyes with him, a silent question.

"Kid, I've said this a million times, but I'll say it one more time." He glances at the other kids that had either always been there or gotten here at some point since he'd been locked into the bathroom. "Robin and I will never date. She and I have no romantic feelings for each other. And if you pull this shit when we're at work again, I'll kill you."

"It's not like it was hard to figure out how to check someone out," Max shrugged and Steve huffed at her nonchalant grin from behind the counter.

Steve ushers the kids out from behind the counter before taking his normal spot, looking around at the empty store. Robin moves and bumps shoulders with him. "Platonic feelings only." She gestures between them.

Dustin groan, "I just don't get why!"

Steve glances at Robin, "because I'm too gay for her." He states and everyone goes quiet. "Honestly boobies are so high school." He winks at Robin who looks at him like he's bravely stupid.

"Wait but you dated Nancy?" Mike questioned arms over his chest.

Steve rolled his eyes, "so? I am more picky on who I date. Doesn't matter the gender. Robin doesn't tick my boxes."

"But she should!" Dustin complains and Robin groans.

But then Steve sees someone in the windows, heading towards the doors to Family video. "My type is more," and he just gestures just as the door dings to call their attention to the newcomer.

Eddie Munson glances at the kids and then at Steve. "Sheepies," he says. Eyebrows raised in confusion at the eyes on him. Eddie glanced at Steve, "Harrington, you break the kids?" He asks as all the kids continue to stare at him as he moves to the horror section.

Steve waves his hand, like he can brush off the confusion. "Nah, they're just shocked that I'm not completely in love with Birdie over here."

Everyone's jaw is on the floor as Steve leans his arms on the counter, not even bothering to hide the way he checks Eddie out when the man looks away. "Right," Eddie sighs and grabs a movie. "Well, not everyone's type is jocks." Eddie teases slightly, having warmed up to Steve little by little when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.

Steve takes the movie from Eddie, giving him his one free movie he gets for the week and hands it back to Eddie without charging him. "I'll win ya over." He winks, and Eddie's eyes go a little wide.

Eyes glanced around like he could ask if anyone else saw that. "Um, well, yeah, how-how much for the-"

"Consider it on me." Steve waved his hand and then leaned more into Eddie's space, "I haven't seen this one yet."

Eddie swallows, "You should check it out. It's, uh, pretty good."

Steve smiles, "I'm shit with horror, maybe if I had someone to hold my hand through it." He sighs overdramatically, then snaps, "Oh, I know! If you're not busy we could watch it together. I mean, it seems like a scary metalhead like yourself would be capable of holding my hand through the jump scares."

Eddie's eyes are blinking rapidly, "it's for the boys." He says, looking lost. Steve frowns, and Eddie jumps into action, "But I could-" He stops himself and groans. "I've got to- plans- fuck-" He stumbles and practically smacks into the door in his rush to leave family video.

Steve sighs and leans his head down on the counter. Robin pats his back, "I miss my whiteboard." She sighs and he looks up to glare at her.

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

[ nightmare ]   -   for my muse to meet your muse in their nightmares. (Arathorn)

  Meeting his soulmate was something that Arathorn had always wanted to do. Yet at the same time, he didn’t. Not if it meant meeting them in his nightmares.

  “I’m not someone you’d want as your soulmate..” He didn’t turn to look, easily recognising the unwavering presence of the old elf. His gaze focused on, what looked like, the frozen Brandywine River and wolves.

@thegreatstrongbow

[mokulule]

Flickering Stars

Dead on MAYn day 5 Prompt: Soulmates

Jason had very carefully not asked if Phantom would join the Titan mission, when Tim had asked for his assistance, but judging by Tim’s knowing look Jason had given in too easily. He pretended at grumpy as he waved Tim off, even Tim being obnoxiously knowing couldn’t quell the excitement building in his chest at getting to see Phantom again. Probably. He would probably see Phantom again. He hadn’t confirmed with Tim, that Phantom would be there, he wasn’t a permanent fixture on the Teen Titans. But with the look Tim had sent him it was pretty likely the case.

Checking to make sure Tim had left - he had - Jason finally gave into the urge and groaned loudly. He rubbed his face. 

Fuck, he was so gone it was stupid.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Phantom had never been part of the plan. Jason had never imagined- He sighed. It wasn’t like he was unused to his plans for his life going awry, but this particular dream was one he’d clung to longer than most. He covered the mark on the inside of his left arm just below his elbow with his hand, feeling the slightly raised skin: his soul mark.

For as long as he could remember he’d had that little grouping of stars slightly raised and pink. His mom, his real mom, Catherine, who’d raised him and not just supplied DNA had told him what it meant with a bittersweet smile. That he was one of the lucky ones. That out there was a soulmate for him, his match in every way. Someone who would love him more than anyone. 

As he’d grown, he learned it wasn’t as simple as that. Not all soul matches were even romantic in nature. Not all soulmates ever met each other. The world was vast and sometimes even if they did meet, they just had a scant few years together before one died. But those that did meet they mattered, always. 

The idea of his soulmate out there had kept him going even as his mom slipped deeper into the drugs (she loved him, but not enough to stay with him). Even as he was on the streets fending for himself, that little grouping of stars gave him hope that some day, he would find love and belonging.

For a short while, he’d thought he had that even without meeting his soulmate. He had Bruce and Alfred, sometimes Dick. He had Robin. For a while he’d thought he might get to be the one to offer his soulmate something other than himself, but that life, that dream had been violently cut short (and maybe Bruce loved him, but not enough to avenge him). When Jason had become lucid again after his return, he’d found his mark faded to gray; his soulmate died. He’d cried for the soulmate he never met, and death of the dream he’d had of finding them. He’d been too late, just another tally in the statistics for those who never found each other.

After that he didn’t look at the mark for weeks. It wasn’t hard, he was busy training. He had a plan to enact, a goal. He wore long sleeved shirts. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of it after a shower as bright and healthy pink as ever he near had a heart attack.

He checked the mark regularly after that. Sometimes it was grey, sometimes pink. Was his soulmate sick? Teetering at the edge of proper dying every day? Or had Jason’s death messed with their connection? Had Jason’s soul not come back whole with him and now he could only get a spotty signal through like broken radio.

Privately Jason thought it was the last one. He had come back wrong, Bruce’s personal nightmare. Death had changed him irrevocably. It made sense his soulmate didn’t match him as well anymore.

Still, part of him had hoped to one day meet them regardless. But he didn’t look for them, there was a fear clutching his heart when he thought of it - what if they rejected him? The very thought ached. Being rejected by his soulmate… He couldn’t think of anything more damning. Jason had enough raw wounds over rejection. He didn’t need to add more. 

These days he and Bruce were only just barely civil. Any time some criminal was found dead, Jason could feel the old bat’s eyes linger on him the next time they saw each other. It was enough to make Jason wonder why he even bothered trying to make nice, he was much better at blowing things up. 

Still, anytime he considered just saying screw it all, he was reminded by someone else that they cared. Be it Alfred or the multitude of siblings and not-quite siblings. Sometimes the old Bat himself even had a moment.

It was enough to keep him in the fold and sometimes at his most cynical he wondered if that was the point, to keep him just close enough to keep him on the narrow, but never truly part of the family.

Tim asking for assistance on a Titan’s matter some months ago however, that had been a clear sign of how far the two of them had come. Even Jason’s paranoia couldn’t argue with it. Tim would have never let Jason come anywhere near his friends if he didn’t trust Jason.

Jason had done the necessary brotherly grumping and bartering, but both he and Tim had known he couldn’t say no.

And then he’d met Phantom.

Tim’s friend Phantom, a ghost, who had more death jokes than even Jason. Who, unlike Tim’s other friends wan’t the least bit wary of him. Phantom whose hair shimmered like starlight and whose sharp smile set Jason’s heart pounding in excited anticipation - for what he hadn’t known, but he hadn’t been disappointed when things finally went down on the second mission.

Phantom was a heavy hitter, and something about the power he exuded set every nerve of Jason’s alight with energy and he’d never he’d never felt so alive. He’d been breathless and weak with the bewildering desire for Phantom to manhandle him.

Jason couldn’t even really recall what the mission had been about precisely. He knew he’d done his part, but the memory paled next to Phantom.

It would have been fine if this was all a matter of sexual attraction, but Jason had fallen hard and fast for Phantom. He didn’t even know or care if Phantom, as a ghost, corporeal though he seemed, had any interest in anything sexual. He just wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better, figure out if Phantom was as interested in getting to know Jason as he was Phantom. 

Some things pointed towards that. Like after that second mission and Phantom had found him in the hallway before he’d left. Jason could still feel his cool gloved fingers tracing the scar down his cheek, and that cute little frown. He vividly remembered the way his green eyes had flicked down to Jason’s lips and lingered there for more than a casual glance. Jason had felt so certain Phantom would kiss him - until Tim had interrupted.

That had been two months ago.

Jason hadn’t had a reason, an excuse, to see Phantom since. They didn’t run in the same circles, Phantom was Tim’s friend, not Jason’s. And when it came down to it Jason didn’t even know what he wanted from Phantom.

His nails dug painfully into his skin. He gasped and released his hand from where it covered the mark - it was grey currently. He hadn’t noticed when he’d started gripping his arm instead of just holding it. 

He had a soulmate, he could be sick and here Jason was falling in love with someone else. Who knew when the mark would turn to grey permanently and Jason would have missed his chance.

Not that Jason had anything to offer his soulmate but a load of baggage. 

It still felt like betrayal.

Oo o oO

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Phantom said with a huff as he pushed Jason to sit down on the cot. “I’m a ghost, I could have just gone intangible.”

Jason bit back a groan when Phantom grabbed too close to the wound below his shredded jacket. Phantom quickly moved his hand further down on his left arm as he peered at the bloody mess of his shoulder area.

“Looks worse than it is,” Jason assured leaning his head back against the wall of the infirmary. He watched Phantom, eyes half lidded behind his domino. He felt a bit woozy from the blood loss and it was nice sitting down, but he was not about to concede the argument. “I’ve seen you take a hit before when you were distracted.” Phantom scowled at him. “Okay yes, but I’m durable. More so than you.” The scowl turned worried as his gaze slid back to the mess.

He picked gingerly at the soaked fabric for a moment before huffing through his nose.

“This might feel weird.” Then he pulled Jason’s jacket off by pulling it through him. A shiver went up Jason’s spine at the cold liquid feeling. Jason blinked owlishly at his jacket suddenly hanging from Phantom’s hand. His cheeks warmed as his thoughts suddenly turned in a very different direction due to Phantom’s apparent ease at divesting him of his clothing. 

He looked away and coughed to get his voice under control. 

“Didn’t know you could do that.” Phantom grinned at him. 

“I don’t advertise my abilities, sometimes they surprise even myself.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He watched Phantom as he poked cool hands at the wound. The bleeding had mostly stopped. The jacket and his suit had truly taken the brunt of it, but it had had time to seep through everything.

“Gonna have to take the suit off too, at least by your arm. How much is it connected to? I can’t make it just part intangible, so it it’s a one piece suit, that’s not a good option.” “If you can just help me peel it off my upper body that’s fine.” He found the zipper and pulled it down to his belt. He wore a tank top underneath. Things would be perfectly decent. No reason to get excited. Not that blood loss for conducive to that sort of excitement anyways.

Phantom took care when he gently pulled the enforced fabrice over his shoulder, but it still started bleeding fresh when places where the fabric had dried to his wounds were removed. The other arm was easier.

Phantom grimaced at the sight. Jason had to agree. There were several gashes. Phantom flew away and returned with a bottle of saline and a cloth. The cloth he held against Jason’s arm as he started to rinse the wounds to absorb the worst of the liquid - still, it dribbled onto the cot. The gashes didn’t look too deep, thankfully. 

When Phantom was satisfied the wounds were clean and without fabric threads or dirt, he fetched gauze swabs to dab it dry. He was so intent on his work, Jason could just relax and watch. His shoulder ached fiercely, but every cool touch was like a balm. After Phantom had set the third well-made stitch, Jason had to know:

“Why would a ghost learn to do stitches?” Phantom looked up at him through his lashes and sent him an impish smile.

“Because he forgets to dodge.”

Jason shook his head, couldn’t help but smile at the reference to their earlier conversation, even as the idea of Phantom knowing because he’d had to stitch himself up settled uneasy in his stomach.

Phantom continued his work, until finally he covered the area with a large bandage. He smoothed it over the area and Jason sighed in relief as the cold from his hands seeped through numbing the pain.

Phantom smiled at him. “Good?” “Yeah.” He watched through half-lidded eyes as Phantom considered him, then came to a decision. He left his right hand on the bandage, then moved the other to cup Jason’s face. Jason’s breath hitched. 

“Good?” Phantom asked again. “Yeah,” Jason whispered hoarsely. His skin tingled where Phantom touched his cheek. He rubbed his thumb gently over the bruise on Jason’s cheekbone, and he could feel the cold seep in just there reducing the swelling. 

He slid his hand down to a not yet healed nick on his throat, it was a few days old, rested it there for a moment before moving on, smoothing the hand over his right shoulder. There was a bruise from last week, it wasn’t swollen anymore just a bit achy if touched. His hand lingered on scars as if he could soothe old hurts. He reached his hand, took it and lifted it up to inspect. He brushed his thumb over Jason’s rough knuckles and then the calluses on his palm, soft and careful.

All the while Jason felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. He didn’t get soft. He didn’t get careful or gentle. Yet here Phantom was being exactly that.

Phantom moved to the other hand, the left one, then his wrist. Too late Jason realized where his gaze would go next and he was too late in covering his soulmark.

Phantom looked at him eyes wide and sad, “You had a soulmate?” Had. Jason hadn’t looked, but that had to mean it was grey right now. Jason felt his eyes prickle at the reminder. One look, one touch from Phantom and he forgot all about having a soulmate at all. To think he was that fickle. 

“Have.” Jason corrected. Even if maybe their connection was frayed because Jason was wrong now. “Have?” Phantom asked bewildered. 

“Yeah,” Jason said mouth dry, Phantom deserved to know if they started something. “It changes, from pink to grey and back, has done so for years. They might be sick.” 

There was no way Jason would admit his personal fear out loud.

Phantom stared at him eyes wide and mouth slightly open as if he was the one seeing a ghost. Then frantically he pulled Jason’s hand away from the mark. Jason was so startled he let him. Phantom then looked from him to the little stars of raised skin and back again.

“I-“ He said. “I never-“

He shook his head in… disbelief? Awe? Clearly he couldn’t find words. Then there was a bright flash, but more than that sudden warmth bloomed up his arm from his mark to his chest.

Desperately Jason blinked the stars out of his eyes only to see blue eyes instead of green, black hair instead of white. Skin pale and not glowing, human. Alive. 

Bare hands touched his skin, calloused fingers brushed his soul mark and sent another wave of warmth up his arm.

“What?” Jason tried desperately to catch up to what had just happened, as he looked from Phantom’s bare hands to his face to the fact he was not clad in a nasa t-shirt and jeans instead of the black and white suit.

“Hood,” Phantom said intently, then gestured with his eyes at Jason’s soul mark which was now pink, framed by Phantom’s living hands.

“Hood,” Phantom repeated a helpless half smile on his lips when Jason met his eyes, “my superpower is dying on command.”

Dying on command.

Jason’s mouth fell open.

Dying on-

Rapidly events caught up to him. Phantom was dead, Jason’s soulmark grey. Phantom was alive, Jason’s soulmark pink. Phantom could die on command. 

Laughter, ridiculous laughter bubbled out of his chest. All his worry, thinking he came back wrong (he did, but not that much, not enough that he didn’t fit his soulmate), and it was just because of Phantom’s powers. He’d been torn about falling for Phantom when he was his soulmate all along.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

He laughed until he cried.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He couldn’t even wipe his eyes because of the stupid domino.

“Hey,” Phantom said, holding his hands out, clearly unsure about touching him.

“Did you ever consider how it would look to your soulmate?” Phantom withdrew his hands and hunched his shoulders. He didn’t look at Jason as he said quietly, “I did die, to gain my powers. I was the only one who could deal with the ghosts who attacked my hometown. And besides,” Phantom looked up and met Jason’s eyes with grief, “my mark was grey after my death. I didn’t know if my soulmate had died or it was because I had died. For about six months my mark was grey, before it somehow came back alive, by then I was in too deep. Figured any soulmate must have given up on me.” “I was dead,” Jason said quietly. “I know, I can sense it.” Phantom managed a smile at that, “Tim was tired of hearing me wax poetic about you.” “What?” That teased out a laugh.

“Yeah, how you’d died like me. How you avenged those in need, freeing their spirits. Your thighs.” Jason spluttered.  

Phantom tilted his head, hand going to his chin and stroking it in mock consideration. “Now that I think about it, it was probably the thigh talk that convinced Tim to introduce us, he always looked so disturbed.”

Jason laughed shortly. Phantom grinned pleased for a moment but then his smile fell.

“Hood?” Phantom said quietly, and Jason met his gaze. “I really, really like you. This-“ he held out his left arm where his own mark depicted an open book- “it doesn’t actually change anything. And it doesn’t mean you have an obligation to like me back.” Jason stared incredulously.

How in the world could he think Jason didn’t like him back?

Then, he grabbed Phantom and pulled him into his arms, careful to mainly use his right arm and not ruin Phantom's work. Phantom yelped in surprise, but quieted immediately once Jason got him settled in his lap. His face was quickly turning red.

“You. Are an idiot.” Jason said sternly and leaned his forehead against Phantom’s temple. He proceeded to ignore the insulted protest and said, “I like you.” 

That shut him up. 

They could save love for later.

Oo o oO

Okay I might be getting cavities here, I hope ya'll feel they deserved the happy ending. I need to work on something proper angsty next to compensate XD

[undertale-writing-times]

Black stain prompt with passive maybe?

(Also, random thought , wouldn’t nightmares stain blend in with his goop- )

The answer to that is!...Yes.

There was an old insult in the village.

"You're worse than Passive's soulmate!"

It was something that… a lot of the villagers seemed to enjoy using, just to mess with each other. They would never use it near Dream, but Passive? They thought it was so funny to say. Or "I feel so bad for your soulmate. They're stuck with you" and slowly…

Passive became afraid of the idea of his soulmate.

Were they going to be stuck with him? Would they feel unhappy that they had to deal with him? He didn't… he didn't want to force someone to be with him! If they were unhappy with him then- ugh, how could they have done this?

The villagers tainted something that was supposed to make him happy. Something that was supposed to make him feel safe.

Now all he felt was fear.

…

He was sitting under his mother tree, his legs crossed under himself, and he was reading a book. He felt relaxed cause the others hadn't been bugging him much. It was just him… his brother was spending time with the villagers.

Passive decided to just stop trying to get his brother to stop spending time with them. He knew that they didn't care about Dream, they just cared about the good feelings that he gave them. He wanted… he wanted his brother happy.

And he knew that they wouldn't make him happy, but he didn't listen.

Passive perks up when he heard a voice. "Excuse me?" He looks up quickly to see a person standing near the tree. He stands up, putting his book down. If they got too close he would handle it, but he would rather not deal with this.

"Yes? What do you need?"

Why were they talking to him? They didn't seem like they came from around this place, which was a little strange. Why would they be here if they weren't part of the village? He saw their mark covered their arm.

"I'm a traveler, can you show me on my map where I am?" they hold up their map.

Passive clicks his teeth together. So they didn't know who he was, did they? That made… that made sense. He slowly walks over, and leans to look at the map. They press their shoulder against his own, "I'm trying to get here, do you think I'm going the right way?" they press their finger to the map at the town.

"Oh-" his eyes shoot down to look at where they were pressing against each other, and his breath hitches a little in his chest. Oh no. The black marking now was covered in rainbows. Shit shit shit. "That… That is ah…" he clears his throat before continuing "That is where you are now. My village"

"Oh! That's great then, would you maybe show me around?" They look at him with such a bright smile.

Passive lets out a soft mrrr sound and shakes his head, backing away "I need to keep watch on the tree. I'm sure you can find your way" he turns away, rubbing his arm. He could hear their footsteps slowly starting to go away. His knees buckled, sending him down to the ground and he coughs, catching the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding.

They didn't realize. They didn't know.

He was fine… he was safe.

Once they found out and learned who he was, they wouldn't even want to have him as their soulmate. They would be happy he sent them away. He crawls closer to the tree, curling up against the bark shutting his eyes.

This was all going to work out.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

Dating Bucky Barnes Headcanons

Dating Bucky is easy and difficult at the same time.

Bucky isn't the one who makes it difficult. In fact, he takes utmost care of you and tries his best to make sure that you're always comfortable and happy.

What troubles you and him is his past.

For a long time in the beginning, he refused to sleep beside you. Plagued by nightmares every night, he did not want to scare you, or worse, do something to you in the influence of the terrors.

It hurt you when he outright refused, but soon you knew the real reason.

It had taken a lot of persuasion, convincing, bargaining, and even threatening for you to sleep in the same room as him. You knew that sleeping with someone who had night terrors was difficult, but you did not complain and accepted them like you accepted Bucky.

Soon, Bucky allowed you to sleep beside him. And in a few days, he grew so attached to you that he couldn't fall asleep without holding you in his arms.

Bucky loves spending time with you. He doesn't have a lot of money to spare, but whatever he has, he tries his best to spoil you and get you what you want.

His love language is physical touch. Whenever the two of you are in the same room, he'll always be touching you in some way. It's not always sexual. He just wants to be reassured that you're there for him and that you're his.

An arm around you, his hand in yours, or a tender stroking of your ankles, his hands curling through your hair, small things like these matter a lot to him. He loves it when you reciprocate the gestures.

Sometimes, he fears that you might be afraid of him. For what he did, for he was the Winter Soldier. And to be honest, at the beginning of your relationship, you were afraid of him.

But soon, you realise that James Buchanan Barnes is not the Winter Soldier anymore, he's just Bucky. And Bucky's the kindest, sweetest and the most loving man for you.

He's old fashioned, but not shy like Steve. He's the best of both worlds, being a man who opens car doors for you and pulls out chairs for you, and also the one who can start a fight to defend you.

He's ashamed of his vibranium arm, and keeps it covered up most of the time, thinking that it is ruining your image and making you two look weird. But you feel nothing like that.

So once, you kissed his vibranium arm all the way from his palm to shoulder, leaving him blushing and with a reassurance that you love the way he is.

You love it when he reads to you. His voice is soft and smooth, having a sexy rumble you love.

But to be honest, he loves it more when you read to him. Your voice is like a melody to his ears, and he'll always listen to it despite whatever you're saying.

He loves giving you piggyback rides. In fact, whenever you don't wanna walk or cannot walk, he'll lift you up on his back, no questions asked.

Bucky is not very vocal when it comes to feelings. He believes in showing instead of telling. Like I said, old fashioned.

It's not just Bucky defending you, you're ready to jump in to defend him shall the need ever arise.

Bucky tells you a lot of stories of himself and Steve from back in the day. You love hearing them, mostly because you want to know more about your boyfriend, but also because Bucky looks relaxed, happier and calmer whenever he talks about the good old days.

You're his soulmate, and he's yours. Both of you just want a quiet life, away from the conflict and relaxing in each others' arms.

He's the scary Winter Soldier to the world, but to you, he's just your Bucky.

[xspeter]

LOML

luke castellan x fem!reader

angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.

Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.

You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.

You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.

The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.

Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.

He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.

“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”

Silence.

Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.

But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.

That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.

“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.

More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”

It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.

“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”

You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”

Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.

“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”

“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”

Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.

Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.

You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.

No.

Luke was in his cabin.

You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.

You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.

“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.

“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.

The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”

You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.

The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.

You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”

He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.

Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.