#but not specifically to make Luke lose an eye

[matchmadeinsevenhells]

Hi! I was just wondering how your story “I’m better with a heart” is going? I’m dying to know if the bow breaking was an accident or not! It all felt very suspicious to me the moment I read it lol I also really want Aemonds reaction to this as well. I can just picture everybody flipping out in the stands and then there’s our boy Aemond, just sitting there, staring off into space having a mother of an existential crisis! Would you be willing to share any snippets of future chapters with us? 😁

(Ask is referring to i'm better with a heart (than a bow and arrow), a Lucemond archer!Luke Loses An Eye In An "Accident" AU.)

Hi anon! Thank you for the question, I'm glad you're excited for the fic! I'll put a spoilery snippet under the Read More!

(The following snippet is obviously set some hours after the first chapter. And yes Aemond was DEFINITELY having a whole existential crisis in the span of a few seconds in the stands....)

Daemon is gone for most of the day and comes back with blood on his cloak and sword, which is even more worrying. "A dead end," he whispers into Mother's hair and then frowns at Lucerys. "Should you be awake?"

Lucerys raises an eyebrow and realises too late it doesn't have the usual effect since half his face is covered in bandages. "…Would you prefer me to be unconscious?"

Daemon sighs, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. "You're being very calm about this."

Lucerys sighs, too. "I figured I screamed enough earlier." Then he looks down at his lap. "And maybe… I did owe a debt, after all—"

"What? No. Luke," Mother interrupts him sharply. "Who told you that? Did she… No, Luke, put that out of your mind; this was a vile, unprompted attack." She grabs his hand again. "One that will be answered."

He frowns at that, wincing when that pulls at the stitches. "I think it would be very hard to sabotage a bow to specifically make it take out my eye," he says quietly. "Impossible, even."

Mother is scowling, but Daemon nods. "I thought the same. We learned that your bow was tampered with, and that the attendant must have been paid to do it. Beside that…" He shrugs. "Your friend Ser Leo shot the fleeing man right through the heart, so we can't say yet."

[murdrdocs]

WHERE YOU ARE. luke castellan

description. almost a year after you and luke breakup, you find yourself in his embrace once more to scratch an itch you can't reach yourself.

includes. SMUT 18+, exes hooking up, fem!coded reader, unprotected p n v, outdoor sex, both r and luke have major attitudes, r is claimed but not specified, a little angsty (they're exes cmon what did u expect), takes place during tlt but no major plot points mentioned; title and inspiration from sunshine by steve lacy

wc: 4.2k+

a/n: as mr steve lacy said, "still will give you dick anytime you need!". ao3 link

There is an itch you can’t scratch.

It’s been there for almost exactly a year, persistent and reminding you of what you’ve been lacking since last summer. You’ve attended to it time and time again, digging into it with all of your might, only to be left semi-satisfied. Never left with lazy eyes, relaxed limbs, and a far away want to do it all over again once you recovered. 

The blame for your lack of satisfaction is placed on your chosen partners. 

Humans, all either far too eager to please or not eager enough. Either too cocky and overconfident, or lacking any and all confidence at all. 

They got between your legs, did the job, but never well enough. They never did it like he did. 

And for the past year, specifically the past few months, you’ve been trying to ignore it. Day by day, when you were forced to coexist with your ex, you attempted to push the feeling to the side. You instead focused on the heat on your skin and the gravity pushing large droplets of uncomfortable sticky sweat down your body, ignoring the way sweat made his skin shine. You buried yourself in work, taking up chores offhandedly mentioned by Mr. D, especially if they would get you away from group settings. 

But then, in the solitude of mindless duties, you had nothing to do except think about Luke Castellan. 

His dark curly hair. His even darker eyes. The way his rounded face had become more chiseled since last summer. The sound of his laughter and the smell of his shampoo. The feeling of his hands on your hips and your waist and your ass and especially between your thighs. 

At the end of the night, you would always fall back and spend a little extra time in the showers, bringing yourself to orgasm after orgasm with hopes that eventually one would give even half of the amount of satisfaction a single orgasm from Luke would. 

Clearly, with the way you’re watching him from across the dining hall with wide eyes, it hasn’t been working. 

“You’re staring.” The pointed voice of your sister next to you breaks you out of your stupor. 

You’re quick to avert your eyes to your plate instead, finding that your food had been picked over, conformed from its original shape and placed in a few different spots so your plate appears as if it’s overflowing instead of losing its contents. 

You don’t bother saying anything in response, instead shoveling a fork full of brisket into your mouth. 

“Just two more days. You can last until then,” she reassures you. 

You’re not sure if you could. 

ㅤ

Only a few minutes later were you sliding almost all of your food into the fire, completely ignoring the rumbling in your stomach. 

Please. 

The rest of your brisket glides into the fire. 

Just give me one more time. 

Your cheese and bread join it. 

That’s all I ask for. 

In goes the fruit and then your plate is empty. 

Someone steps up beside you and you’re about to leave anyway, so you pay them no mind. Not until they speak to you. 

“Hey.” 

Gods, it’s almost pathetic how the simple greeting makes you feel. 

Suddenly, the waving flames of the fire in front of you is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Hey.” 

“What’d you give up?”

Has his voice always sounded like that? Suddenly it’s … deeper. Granted, the last time you spoke to him alone was a year ago. Both of you have matured since then, but in some ways you’re still stuck in your old nature. 

“Fruit. Bread. Brisket. The usual.” 

Even though the conversation is extremely lackluster, you find yourself wanting it to continue. You want to speak to him more. 

Luke hums and it’s only then that you look at him. 

He’s turned to face you now, holding an empty plate in his hand and you wonder: when had he given his offering up? Surely you should have seen it since the fire was all you could focus on during the last minute. Really, you just weren’t taking in any information at all save for the addicting sound of Luke’s voice. 

“And what did you ask for?” His eyebrows lift, his tongue darts out to glide over his lips for a split second. A brief memory of how nice it’d been to kiss him comes back before you can prevent it.  

“You know I can’t tell you that.” You take a step closer to him as you easily fall into this old routine. Tease and tease and throw in a flirtatious tone to beat around the large bush that held a ‘please fuck me’ sign. 

“Telling you my prayer is like telling you my birthday wish.” 

Luke tilts his head, letting his eyes wander to the side for a second before finding you again. The fire reflects in them, adding a warmth to his eyes you haven’t seen all summer. 

He’d been off the past few months, holding a tension in his shoulders and having a clipped-ness to his voice at times. You might be imagining things when you feel as if he’s different—good different—with you. 

“Which you used to do all the time.” 

You shrug. “It was always things you could do for me. I just wanted my wishes to come true.” 

“Oh yeah, like do your chores. All that time I spent scrubbing the bathroom floors for you.” 

A grin finds your lips. “It was a good lesson in responsibility. Right, Luke?” 

When he rolls his eyes, you notice how there’s no malice behind the action. It’s almost too easy for both of you to fall back into your old pattern. 

“Yeah. Sure.” He takes a small step closer to you and if you weren’t so in tune with every detail about him, you wouldn’t have noticed it. “So you gonna tell me what you asked for or not?” 

There’s no point in him knowing, other than to intrude on your life. Unfortunately, you don’t mind the intrusion. 

You stare at him a little while longer, your eyes flickering back and forth between his. Every so often, you let your gaze fall to his lips, only to bring it back up to his eyes like nothing ever happened. 

For a second, you pretend to think about it, falsely balancing his proposal before deciding. 

“I’m good. See you around, Luke.” 

When you return to your table and sit next to your sister, she has the kindness to not say anything about your prolonged absence for only a few moments. 

Then, “Am I covering for you?” 

You delude yourself into believing she won’t have to for a few seconds. And then you catch Luke’s eye from across the dining hall and you sigh.

“Yeah.” 

ㅤ

“Knew you weren’t over me.” 

You stop walking at his words, shoes thudding against the grass. The thunderous roar of the waterfall covers any other possible sound you could’ve created, but Luke never needed to hear you to know when you were approaching. It was a weird intuition thing you never understood.  

“Hello to you too, Luke.”

He turns around to face you, and as expected, he’s wearing a smirk. His arms are crossed over his chest, he’s no longer sporting his camp tee, having replaced the bright orange material with a deep blue hoodie instead. Practically everything about him screams relaxed, his gray sweatpants adding to the ambience that his aura creates—one that says he knew you were going to meet him tonight. 

“We’re way past formal greetings at this point, don’t you think?” He turns back to face the waterfall in front of him when you join his side. “You never used to greet me before.”

“Things change.”

“Yet you’re still out here. That could only be for one reason.” 

You shrug, folding your own arms over your chest. You have nothing to do with your hands yet, and you’ve been flexing them impatiently with anticipation. 

“Maybe I wanted to stargaze. Who knows.” 

Luke doesn’t say anything. 

In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring up at the sky, presumably stargazing like you falsely claimed you were doing. You try to do the same, picking out a few easily recognizable constellations you knew. But it’s only a minute later that you’re caving. 

“Okay.” 

You turn to face Luke. 

He does the same. 

He’s brought a lantern out here and it sits on the ground in front of you both, bright enough to illuminate the side of his face with an orange-yellow glow. 

“Okay?” he asks for clarification. 

Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for a second as you mull over your words. After tonight, there’s only one more night of camp left, and then you won’t be seeing Luke for another year. There’s almost no repercussions for laying it all out now, dropping your poorly built guard to get what you’ve been craving for a year now. 

“I’m not out here to fucking stargaze.” You sound exasperated as you admit it. 

Luke paints a picture of faux shock on his face. He gasps, splaying a hand out over his chest as his eyes widen. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.” 

Really, his attitude is starting to get on your nerves. 

Your temper flares and you suddenly understand the rage and frustration Clarisse always inhabits. 

“Don’t be a dick.” You try to manifest the negative feelings taking over your mind when you speak, but your tone betrays you. The command comes out too soft to change anything. Too gentle to be real. 

“Thought you liked it when I was a dick?” 

Something you’d told him in confidence last year. Confidence and drunken delusion. The shameless way you were grabbing at his clothes at the time clearly showed your inebriation. 

“Gods, Luke, would you just stop talking and kiss me already?” You take the step closer to him, finally entering his space to get what you want. What you’ve literally been dreaming about for the past year. 

He stops for a second, his eyes flitting to your lips once, twice, and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, his lips part for a different reason. 

“You also liked it when I ta–” 

You do it yourself. 

You expect him to hesitate before giving in, but his response is quick. 

Hands at your hips pulling you closer to him. His head tilting to the side so he can deepen the kiss just enough. His tongue wastes no time entering your mouth, pressing against your own tongue which allows you to taste the slightly off flavor of the root beer he’d had earlier in the night. 

Just like everything else had gone tonight, you two found the rhythm easily. 

You let Luke lead, pressing your chest into his, arching your back when his palm rests right above your ass. 

He kisses you like he wants more, a little over eager as the tip of his nose presses into your cheek with a little too much pressure. And he could take more, you’re offering it to him with the way your hands slide under his sweatshirt and press against his bare abdomen, fingers tracing his abdominal muscles. Luke just refuses to take it. He refuses to go the extra step. 

You huff against his lips, eyebrows furrowing in vexation. 

Luke pulls back from you first. He stares down at you, unmoving, not saying anything and when your brain is clouded like this, you don’t have it in you to try and decipher the storm in his dark eyes. 

When your brain is clouded like this, all you can think to do is speak.

“And for what it’s worth, I’m over you. I’m just not over…” you trail off, not really feeling like a conclusion is necessary to communicate exactly what you’re missing. 

Luke’s laugh is more like a sharp inhale. He cups your cheek with one hand. “And that’s a part of me, angel.” The pet name sounds almost villainous coming from his lips now. It’s too heavily dipped in confidence, dripping with sour arrogance. 

If you weren’t so horny, you would be turned off at the sound of it. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. But there’s very little that Luke could do to turn you off. 

Instead of dwelling on it, you lean back up and press your lips to Luke’s again. 

This time, Luke kisses you how you expected. 

He’s rough, lacking politeness and a little bit of coordination. His hands grip at your ass, pinching the fabric of your pajama bottoms and the fabric of your panties between them. There’s lots of tongue and even more spit, a few moments where your teeth knock into each other’s.

Now that he’s participating how you want him to, there’s not much anticipation. 

Your long sleeve tee is thrown over your head and placed at your feet, the same treatment goes for Luke’s sweatshirt. Your hands glide along each other’s bodies yearningly. You can’t help but start to feel satisfied with what you’re getting, even though it’s close to nothing. 

You’d been wanting to even be in Luke’s vicinity with intentions other than solely platonic—almost professionally—for so long now, so just feeling the weighted heat of his hands on your bare skin is enough to make you sigh. 

It doesn’t take long for both of you to end up on the ground, and after a small dispute about who gets to be on top, you end up on your hands and knees, hips wiggling impatiently as you wait for Luke to make the final move. The one to start the end of the beginning. 

There’s a few prolonged moments where nothing happens. You’re trying to be patient, busying yourself with chewing on your bottom lip and listening to the soothing sounds of water falling, but you’ve been so empty for so long and you really don’t think you can last any longer. 

You look over your shoulder to see Luke sitting on his haunches behind you. Just staring. 

He seems to be stuck in a trance, and just when you start to get a little insecure, Luke spits into his hand and runs his fingers down your cunt, reaching back up to probe two fingers into your entrance to the first knuckle. 

It’s slightly too much of a stretch all at once, and you wince a little, fingers gripping the strands of grass beneath you. 

You think you hear a small apology from him but you can’t tell. Either way, he corrects himself and slowly sinks one finger into your cunt. Already, you’re letting out a drawn out sigh. It comes out more guttural than intended, as if Luke pulled it directly from deep within you as he draws his finger back out, only to plunge it back in. 

His fingers scratch along places you haven’t been able to reach on your own. The tip of his digit strokes along a spot you’d been searching for for months, only having found twice on your own. (Both occurrences can be attributed to pure luck … and sheer desperation)

You don’t have to ask for more. Luke pulls the singular digit out and when he pushes back in, you feel the same stretch from before. This time, it’s more expected. 

You know to let yourself relax to allow him to continue. 

He enters you easily, and he starts to set a pace that hints at his intentions. He isn’t fingering you to prep you anymore, at least that’s not what it feels like he’s doing. His fingers are caressing parts that he only reaches when he wants you to cum. His pace isn’t one of careful leisure. Instead it’s goal searching. 

“Luke,” you start without even knowing if there’s a finish intended. 

He hums distractedly. 

“Fuck me. Please.” 

You aren’t above begging at this point. It’s all a means to an end for you. 

But you don’t know if it’s the same for Luke. 

His free hand comes to your ass and he caresses the flesh in a surprisingly tender way. You watch him lean up, and you watch him pepper kisses along your lower back. 

“I’ll get there, angel, promise.” 

And it suddenly occurs to you that Luke is taking his time with you. He’s savoring it all. 

For a second, the carnal desire melts away to reveal something more raw. The urge you used to feel to just talk to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The way your insides would flutter when he smiled, or the way everything seemed a little darker when he was down. 

Every emotion you’ve been working to get over for the past few months comes back tenfold in this small moment. 

And then Luke hooks his fingers and you’re brought back to the more debauched side of your circumstances. 

His pace speeds up a little. He introduces his other hand along your clit, singling out two fingers and rubbing wide and slow circles around the bud. 

During your nostalgia filled moment, your body had gotten closer to orgasm. Luke only has to pump his digits a few more times and tighten the circles just enough and you’re digging your hands into the dirt, pushing your hips back into his touch, and arching your back as your muscles tense up and you announce your orgasm, only to let go a few moments later. 

It’s a little more than pathetic how hard you cum. But you haven’t felt the touch from someone other than yourself in a long time. And you haven’t felt the touch of someone adequate enough to satisfyingly please you in an even longer time. 

Your hips twitch back and forth, the muscles in your thighs tense until you ache to relax them, only to repeat the action as waves cascade through your body. Luke is there through it all, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you as he coos gentle words from behind you. 

Your head hands low between your shoulders, but you still hear him coaxing you through it. 

“That’s it … just let it happen. ‘S it’s a big one. You really did miss me, hm?” 

He still sounds smug, but it comes off more affectionately this time. At least, a little less annoyingly. 

You’ve barely let yourself calm down from your orgasm before you’re reaching between your thighs blindly, swatting Luke’s hands away and searching for something else entirely. 

He chuckles, mumbles something under his breath that is definitely snarky, and you’re immediately swearing. 

“Luke, I swear to the fucking Gods, if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll..” 

It’s embarrassing how the meeting of his head and your entrance instantly shuts you up. It’s like a pacifier nestling between your lips, not fully settling into your cavern without a few teasing strokes up and down the plane of your cunt first. 

But the teasing makes it all so much more worth it. Just the first inch makes your eyes roll back. 

It’s so familiar, but in a slightly foreign way. You haven’t had it in so long, but you remember everything you loved about it. 

The way his head stretches you out first, and then comes the rest of him, only a few moments of reprieve before you get to the thickest part of him. The way his fingers press into your skin as he sinks in, exercising as much restraint as he could. The way his tip parts you open, scratching parts of you that have been itching for a while now. 

He’s bare within you, and if you hone in your senses enough you can feel everything. Every ridge and mountain plane and every vein. The way he’s warm and heavy within you, filling you so well you don’t know how you’ve been empty this long. 

It’s like an insatiable hunger has finally been filled. 

You don’t know how you’ll ever go back to being without this. Without Luke. 

By the time Luke has bottomed out, you’re already attempting to fuck yourself back on him. Luke takes over quick enough, digging his hands into the fat at your hips as he drives into you. 

You can feel your ass rippling with each thrust, and you think there’s clapping, too. 

Luke is harsh with it, any tender moments you two had during the night are gone, replaced with fierce thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of you with an intensity that tells you he wants to cum as badly as you do. 

You have the sudden urge to see his face, to watch his eyebrows pinch together as he cums. You look over your shoulder once more, and sure enough his thick eyebrows are pushed together. His lips glisten in the ambient lighting, pink and plump and parted as he focuses. His eyes don’t leave your ass, trained on where the two of you connect. 

Only a few moments later does he notice you’re watching him, and he casts a look up to meet your eyes. His expression doesn’t change, still as concentrated as it was before. 

Then he tells you, “turn over”. 

You’re quick to comply, barely even having to mourn the brief emptiness before you’re on your back (on the ground but it doesn’t matter at this point) with your legs spread, Luke quickly entering you and resuming his pace. 

He leans down, holding your thigh for leverage with one hand and holding himself up beside your head with the other. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close and yours do too. 

“‘M close,” he tells you. 

Your hand slinks up to dig into his curls, and like this, you’re allowed to reminisce once more. 

Not one specific memory finds you, but the position is so well known. It’s so intimate, only becoming more so whenever Luke presses his lips to yours. 

It doesn’t cross your mind to tell Luke to pull out. But you don’t want him to. 

You need to feel him, all of him, just one more time. 

So when Luke spills warm cum inside of you, it’s the highest form of pleasure. 

He fucks it into you a little more, a few punctuated thrusts ensuring none of him leaks out, and then the hand on your hip comes between your thighs again. He pulls out, waits, and when you feel something trickle out of you he catches it with two fingers and drags it up to your bud. 

“Can you cum for me one more time?” he asks, voice sweet and gentle. 

Even if you couldn’t, if you were physically unable to, you would still give it a try if he talked to you like that. 

You nod, keeping your eyes pinched shut and licking over your now unoccupied lips. 

“Look at me,” Luke commands. “I wanna see you.” 

Your eyes peel open. You stare up at Luke. And with two more flicks, you cum. 

“Heard you’ve been calling me your ex.” 

You shrug as you pull your bottoms over your hips. Your shirt is already on, but you shake it out a little, trying to get rid of dirt remains that somehow found their way into it. 

“Yeah. That’s what you are.” 

Luke pulls his sweatshirt back over his head before responding. “We both know I’m more than that.” 

“You were more than that. Things change, Luke.” 

When he meets your eyes, there’s something in his gaze. Maybe remorse? 

He licks his lips, shrugs. “They don’t have to. We could go back to how things were before.” 

It’s such a tempting proposition, one you laid with for weeks. Watching the sun set and then watching it rise all in one wake, wondering where things went wrong, trying to fix them in your head so you could get it all back. You treated your breakup with Luke like a mission gone wrong, and that’s where you went wrong. 

You shake your head a little and start to walk away. 

“Goodnight, Luke.” 

His hand catches you around the wrist. He stares down at you, gaze hard and serious. 

“Hey, anytime you need that. Anytime you need me to give you that, you come find me. Okay?” 

Satisfaction flares in your chest as you nod. 

ㅤ

By the time the sun has made itself comfortable in the sky, you’re the last one out of bed. 

You shower quickly, paying extra attention to your knees to scrub the remnants of dirt off of them, and then you’re at the dining hall for breakfast, sliding up next to your sister with striking bags under your eyes and an alluring glow added to your aura. 

She doesn’t say anything for a while and neither do you. Both of you tend to your hunger, slowly setting food into your mouth and savoring the sweetness of the strawberry pancakes. 

Only when nothing is left on your plates but your offerings does she speak. 

“Covering for you tonight again?”

You don’t hesitate at all when you say, “Yep.” 

“You owe me.” She’s trying to come off a little demanding, maybe a little mean. But she looks a little amused. Maybe even happy for you. 

Your eyes leave hers to look across the dining hall, finding Luke already looking at you. 

When you grin in response, sickly sweet and triumphant, you don’t know if it’s towards her or Luke. 

Either way, your reply is the same. 

“I love you.” 

[kaciebello]

Us before you and me

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes. Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,3k

Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad.

Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermes cabin just caught his eye. They argued all the time, it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.

So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, Chris had dragged him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.

“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.

“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain that was the case. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.

“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back. 

“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp.  Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.

They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.

“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.

“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.

“ Not you, you raging virgin,”  Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes. 

“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.

–

When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.

He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.

He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.

“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.

“ You like that don't you.”  That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.

“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world.  Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.

“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.

—

Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.

Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid. 

When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile. 

“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.

“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine leaves Luke's lips.

“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.

—

Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years.  He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.

“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counsellor with a weird look, before turning to his brother who wore a similar expression.

“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really.  It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.

“He's definitely not best dressed, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.

Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15.  He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.

He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend. 

It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.

[rose-pearls]

Hi! Could request something for clarisse x reader? Where reader is daughter of persphone and she’s sweet and kind but also strong and intimidating and can stand for herself and that’s what clarisse likes abt her

Hi! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse loved her girlfriend, but she could sometimes be too kind towards others, most specifically towards a certain Poseidon’s son.

“I don’t understand why you dislike him so much, he is a sweetheart,” you tell her one evening, wrapped in her arms as she tries not to fall asleep as your fingers brush against her skin delicately.

“I just don’t like him, he brings too much attention to himself,” she says, feeling a bit annoyed at the turn of conversation but as she smells the delicate smell of honey blossom, she feels herself calm down. Every child of Persephone had a certain smell of flowers that followed them, but it could change due to their mood. The only flowers she could pinpoint in yours were honey blossom and roses when Clarisse managed to make you blush or when you got angry.

“He doesn’t do it on purpose, just give him a chance,” Clarisse was happy when you then turned the conversation to another topic, not wanting to spend more time than necessary on the stupid topic of Percy Jackson. 

Everyone knew you were kind; it was something that was known around camp when you helped others around, but it was also known that you were Clarisse’s girlfriend and that you were fiercely loyal to the Ares daughter. Some people saw it as a flaw, your unwavering loyalty, but she only saw it as proof of your love.

Kindness was often seen as a weakness, but Clarisse could make a whole book about you where she proves that entire point wrong, you had proven that to her when playing capture the flag. You weren’t just as sweet as a blossom but just as deadly as a rose, she had seen you throw a dagger at the head of a camper, only slightly cutting the skin of his cheeks.

“Try to take the flag again and this time I won’t avoid cutting your face entirely,” the sweet daughter of Persephone had said with a tone that would make even the god’s tremble. And that is how Clarisse had fallen for you; hard and fast as she saw you cutting through the other team as if you were just helping the Demeter kids growing flowers. 

She had been waiting patiently, or not as she had no patience, for Chiron to reveal who would be on which team in Capture the flag. Rules had been made at one point that the Athena and Ares cabin would always be on opposite teams as they couldn’t get along, just like their parents. But the other cabins were often mixed up between the two.

“I can’t believe he would do this to me!”, Clarisse screams, and a couple of children scramble away at the angry daughter of Ares.

“Clarisse?”, you ask softly, making her slightly relax as she smells the comforting smell of flowers. You seem worried, hands on your hips as you look at her with wide eyes.

“Chiron put you on Annabeth’s team, I’m sure that little devil is really happy right now,” she murmurs the last part, crunching the paper in her hand as she begins to plot her revenge.

Your hand softly covers her, and she feels your fingers slowly stroke a pattern on her hand to try and get her to loosen her grip on the paper. When she finally does let go you take a look at the paper, humming to yourself as you see the teams.

“You have the Hermes cabin, which means you have Luke. Not all is lost my love,” Clarisse can’t help but blush at the nickname, you didn’t say it that often but when you did it would turn her into a blushing mess, just like right now.

“I would rather have you then Castellan and the other pipsqueaks,” she says, going back to her grumbling but she looks at you as you laugh softly.

“Common, it will all be alright. This is good, now you can already mentally prepare yourself to lose,” Clarisse raises her eyebrows at your statement, a smirk can be found on your glossed lips.

“Oh, really? And what you think that you are going to win this?” she whispers as she gets closer to you and you nod, confidence radiating off you.

“Of course, I will, and I will enjoy wiping the floor with your bodies,” you say and Clarisse doesn’t know if she feels competitive or hot and bothered at the sight of you so confident.

“Better prepare yourself to prove that statement princess, wouldn’t want to see you crying on the floor at the end,” Clarisse says, and she enjoys the scoff you let out at her words.

“Give me your worst La Rue,” you tell her, and she can only whisper it back before brining you into a heated kiss, efficiently bringing the conversation to a stop.

--

She should’ve known Annabeth would be using you against her, after all the girl was smart even at the age of twelve.

“Funny seeing you here,” she hears you say, and she can’t help but snort at your words before seeing a dagger in your hand.

“Common princess, really? Just one dagger?”, she can’t help but say, feeling already like they were going to win this game of Capture the flag.

“I don’t need more, you on the other hand seem to have a lot of weapons on you. Isn’t that too much weight?”, you ask her, with that sweet voice you always used on her, if you had been a daughter of Aphrodite, it could’ve been seen as charm speaking. But then again it only seemed to work on her. 

You get closer to her, much more than how close you would usually get to an opponent, but she doesn’t say anything as she can only enjoy the touch of your fingers as you adjust her strap.

“You look so stunning in this, like a real warrior,” she knows you are trying to get to her, get her to lower her guard and it works, of course it does.

“Please don’t be mad at me?”, you whisper and before she can ask why you push her in the direction of the water, her sibling quickly falling with her as an invisible Annabeth pushes him.

“Percy, now!”, Annabeth yells and the boy manages to crash a huge wave on them before they can try to get up. The girl takes the flag and puts her cap on before running as fast as she can through the forest.

“Good job water boy,” you tell him as he comes out of the water, somehow already completely dry with a smirk on his lips. 

“This was fun!”, he says before he sees a glaring Clarisse starting to stand up and running away in the direction of the blue flag.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” the Ares girl says with furrowed eyebrows, and you can see the glare in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, it was Annabeth plan, and I couldn’t really tell her that I wasn’t going to do it,” you tell her, but she grumbles under her breath, still looking beautiful even completely wet.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you tell her as you get closer to her, and she raises her eyebrows in interest.

“Really? How?”, she asks, and you smile as you wrap your arms around her neck, smiling even wider as you feel her arms slowly circle around your waist.

“You can decide, I’ll do anything you want for the rest of the day,” you tell her, and a flicker of mischief appears in her eyes, and you know far too well what that means.

“Except for pushing Percy into the water,” you tell her, and a pout appears on her lips.

“Fine, I want you to spend the rest of the day with me and give me your dessert at diner. I also want a back massage,” she has a smirk on her lips, and you quickly nod in agreement, excited to spend the rest of the day with her.

“And one more thing,” she says but before you can ask what her hands on your hips twist you around and push you into the cold water. 

As you come back up, you can’t help but laugh at your satisfied girlfriend.

“Now we’re even,” she says before taking her armor off and joining you into the water.

--

Requests are open!

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Every Inch of You

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: reader is fighting demons (insecurities), very specific descrpitions of body image related insecurities- like the reader is literally picking herself apart in a mirror, hella praise, body worship, fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, creampie, cockwarming, pseudo voyeurism/exhibitionism (he fucks her in front of a mirror idk) I think that's everything

Genre: starts off pretty angsty, we transition to smut and end with fluff!

Summary: Insecurities can be quite rough on you but your boyfriend has no intentions of letting you go through it alone

***

You frown at your reflection as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Today has been a rough day. Nothing in particular happened. You went to work, you ran some errands, you did normal daily things, but for some reason you've been in such a weird mood and now you're stuck in a vortex, picking apart yourself apart in the fucking mirror. You really ought to go to the gym more often, or- stop snacking at night, have your pores always been so noticeable? Since when do you have so many stretch marks? You can't see your toes over your stomach- god that's embarrassing. You let out a long sigh as you bite back the tears stinging the back of your eyes. You hate this. It doesn't usually get this bad and the worst part is you know it's not real, you know you're not some hideous monster but it doesn't stop that nasty voice in your head from warping your perception some days and when that happens nothing you say to yourself changes it. But man does it suck, because most of the time you have all the confidence in the world, you've worked very hard on it. Days like this make it feel like you're still some lost little kid desperate to find your place in the world with no sense of self. You should just walk away. If you can't see yourself, you can't pick your appearance apart. But your feet feel glued to the floor, as if they can't remember how to move, as if it's the most impossible task you've ever been given.

"Alright that's enough. You'll lose your mind standing here." You tell yourself, shaking your head in hopes of getting out of this dreary mood. You finally step away from the mirror and head to your closet to put on some clothes post shower. You throw on a hoodie and some shorts and leave your room.

"Babe?!" You hear as you walk down the hall. Sounds like your boyfriend's back.

"Hey love, welcome home." You meet him by the door and he kisses you on the cheek.

"Hope you haven't made dinner yet beautiful because I brought take out." Luke tells you holding up the bag with an excited grin.

"Take out's good. You wanna shower first or dive straight in?" You ask him.

"Would you mind terribly if I showered first?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." You take the food from him and nod your head towards the bathroom.

"I'll be quick!" He kisses you once more and jogs down the hall. You set the food on the living room table and watch TV while waiting for Luke. You hope you're able to keep it together for the few hours you'll be spending with Luke before bed. Considering its a weekday, you don't have to keep the mask up for that long. True to his word, Luke is quick to return, maybe 15 minutes pass by the time he plops down next to you on the couch. "Alright! Let's eat!" He announces, opening the takeout bag. He hands you your food before digging into his own.

"How was work today?" You ask him.

"Fine, tedious. Was mostly doing paperwork today." He shrugs. "How was your day cupcake?"

"Work was work and then I ran some errands. No fun stories here unfortunately. How's everyone?"

"Well, Spencer was giving a guest lecture today so he wasn't around since we didn't have an actual case. Garcia was telling me about some woman that seems to have his attention at the uni though."

"Is Pen keeping tabs on Spencer at the college? He'll literally hate that when he finds out." You frown.

"That's what I told her but you know how she can be. Especially with how sometimes things- go wrong when we meet new people."

"I mean if she's just a coworker, Penelope's getting ahead of herself don't you think? He probably hasn't even made a move on her." You say.

"He hasn't. You're right but it's not like she can be stopped." Luke chuckles.

"Yeah I guess so." You hum.

"Alright, what's wrong, princess?" Luke frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"You've barely touched your food. Did you think I wasn't gonna notice you've only been picking at it? Do you not like it? Do you want to eat something else?"

"No it, it's fine, I just- I'm honestly not all that hungry I guess." You sigh.

"What do you mean you're not all that hungry? What've you eaten today?"

"A bagel for breakfast and a salad for lunch." You shrug. Luke checks the clock in your living room.

"Lunch was 8 hours ago, all you had was a bowl of rabbit food and you expect me to accept that you don't want to eat your favorite food? Come on, spill it baby what's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on. I dunno I just- feel weird." You mutter, avoiding his gaze. Dating a profiler is so irritating sometimes, can't he just ignore your body language for once?

"Weird how?"

"We don't, have to do this. It's not a big deal babe." You mumble.

"You're not eating y/n it is absolutely a big deal."

"Luke-" you sigh.

"Don't 'Luke' me, what's going on?" He frowns.

"I'd really rather not discuss anything there's no need, seriously."

"Baby, don't shut me out. You can't shut me out. We're in this together, always. You've gotta tell me what's going on in your head." He caresses your cheek gently. You sigh, unable to justify holding out on him when he speaks so softly, with such care.

"I've just been having a bad mental day. Nothing's happened, but I, just feel uncomfortable in my body, and it's hard to deal with let alone talk about." You say, tears burning behind your eyes again.

"Baby," he says, concern contorting his features.

"It's fine, I'll get over it. Today's just been a rough one. It happens. Sometimes my insecurities flare up out of nowhere but that's life, I don't want you to worry." You shake your head.

"Do you know me at all princess?"

"What?"

"My baby, my darling, the love of my life, my reason for being, is stuck in her own head hating her body, the body I live to worship, the body I can't get enough of and you want me to simply 'not worry about it'? That ain't happening." He stands up.

"Luke." You grumble as he grabs your hands.

"No no no no, no complaining, up you go." He pulls you off the couch and lifts you into his arms.

"Ah! Luke what are you doing?" You ask, throwing your hands around his neck as he princess carries you down the hall.

"Well if that nasty little voice in your head wants to lie to you, I'll simply have to remind you myself of all the reasons ever inch of you is perfect." He says matter-of-factly.

"I do not like the sound of that." You tell him.

"And I don't like the sound of you feeling uncomfortable with yourself." Luke shrugs.

"Well that's not-" You stop yourself with a sigh, not even sure what your comeback would be. In your bedroom, Luke carefully lowers you to the ground in front of the mirror with your back facing him.

"I want to help you to see yourself the way that I do." He says softly. He kisses your neck lightly and gently lifts your gaze to meet his in the reflection. "Ask me how I see you." His fingers brush against your thighs as he speaks.

"How do you see me?" You whisper hesitantly. You're not sure you even want to know, but his lips against your throat and his hands on your skin are rather persuasive.

"You, mi amor, are the sun at the center of my universe, if ever I was asked to describe perfection I would simply describe you." Luke slides his hands up under your hoodie caressing your skin.

"Luke." Your brow furrows. This can't possibly be sexy for him, he's only touching your stomach to comfort you, he'd probably prefer it if-

"Relax baby." Luke whispers. You didn't even realize you'd sucked your stomach in against his touch unconsciously, as if you could hide from him your size. You slowly untense your muscles, cringing at the way you fill his large hands. "I'm going to take this off of you, is that alright baby?" He asks.

"Well," can you really handle looking at yourself again?

"You can say no if you want princess, but I need you to stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere." You say.

"Physically maybe, but I can see your mind wandering off." He kisses your temple. "Don't go."

"You can take it off." You whisper. Luke tugs the hoodie over your head not a moment later, tossing it somewhere in the room, out of sight. He lets out a sigh as his eyes trail over your body through the reflection. You can still feel the heat of his gaze in the mirror and weirdly enough it feels undeserved. He looks at you like that all the time but, tonight you just can't understand what would make him look at you with such want.

"God, you're gorgeous." He sighs placing his hands on your hips again. Luke places kisses on your shoulder. "Your skin is so soft, I can never get enough of touching you, kissing you, holding you." He says. He slides his hands up your sides to cup your breasts. "So perfect, I love the weight of your tits in my hands." His thumbs stroke over your nipples and the light stimulation makes your breath catch in your throat. He twists and tugs at your nipples, enjoying the little whimpers you let out. "You make the prettiest noises when I touch you baby."

"Luke-" you whine, your head lolling against his shoulder.

"Uh uh, head up princess, you've gotta watch. Watch me touch you, worship you, and watch how your body reacts to me, see for yourself how captivating you look." Luke gently shrugs his shoulder to push your head forward. You force your eyes to focus back on your reflections in the mirror, the sight of his hands kneading your breasts with rough fingers toying with your nipples to create hardened peaks only serves to make you squirm more against him. He keeps at it until your breathing is heavy, then one hand slides down, pausing to rub your tummy, "You may not believe me but this, I love this. Growing up it meant you were eating well, taken care of. And I like to think I take good care of you. I want it to show." He says kissing your neck. "Plus it's excellent for cuddles." He winks with a smile that makes you giggle. "I like that sound even more than your little whimpers, but I'm about to get a lot more of those." Luke's hand continues down, pushing your shorts down enough for you to kick them off. His hand caresses your thigh.

"You're teasing." You pout.

"You look cute when you pout." He chuckles. "But I'll be nice." His voice drops as he slips two fingers between your folds. You arch you back against his touch as his digits toy with your cunt. Luke knows your body maybe better than you do and his hand makes quick work of bringing you to the edge. Your head tips back again, instinctively and his movements slow when he catches it. The sudden change drags your gaze to his in the mirror, a silent question in your eyes when you whine. "If you want to cum pretty girl you have to watch yourself do it."

"But-"

"No buts, keep your eyes open and on the mirror." He says stroking you faster now that your attention is back on your reflection. Again when you feel your orgasm creeping up your spine your head drifts back and again Luke slows his hand almost to a stop.

"No!" You cry out as your release slips away.

"I already told you princess, your eyes have to stay on your reflection." He says waiting for your breathing to calm slightly before his fingers work you again. This time, you manage to keep your head forward, but your eyes still slide closed from the pleasure. Unfortunately for you your boyfriend is very observant and closed eyes still break the rule, so his fingers slow again.

"Fffffffffffffuck me." You grit out, frustrated from his edging game.

"I'll keep doing this until you get it right mi amor. Keep your eyes open." He says beginning again. This time, you steel yourself. You don't think you can handle another denial. The signs of release return quickly with his hands on you and though your lids desperately want to close you keep them open even as they threaten roll back in bliss as you finally cum with a breathy moan. "That's it, so fucking stunning." Luke says as he strokes you through the aftershocks. Your legs are still shaking and your chest is still heaving when Luke lifts you again. "I'm not finished with you yet, but this next bit will be easier in the bathroom. So you have something to hold onto." He says carrying you into the bathroom. He sets you down facing the large mirror over the sink. "I'd do this in the bedroom but you won't be able to see yourself if I fuck you right up against the mirror." Luke says in your ear and the words send a shiver down your spine. "Place your hands on the mirror sweetheart. Let me show you how badly I crave every inch of you." He says with a hand stroking your ass. You lean forward enough for your warm hands to touch the cool glass. Your eyes follow Luke's in the mirror as they trail over your skin hungrily while he frees himself from his sweatpants. He wastes no time sinking into you with a groan and though he gave no warning you moan at the stretch of him filling you. The look on his face as he settles into your heat can only be described as euphoric and it's one you could never get tired of seeing on him. After a moment his eyes peel open again and catch yours in the reflection. He gives you a smirk before his hands tighten against your hips and he sets a rhythm that explains why you needed something to hold onto. His thrusts are harsh and deep and have moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips. Luke's eyes are locked on yours in the mirror as he fucks you. "God you're beautiful, perfect, you've got the- prettiest eyes that sparkle when you laugh, and look so good rolling back when I make you cum." He hums.

"Oh Luke." You moan part of that was sweet, part if it made your walls clench around his dick.

"You're perfectly soft for hugging or cuddling and it doesn't hurt that I have plenty to hold onto when I wanna fuck you stupid." Luke says and if he weren't currently doing just that you might've laughed at his words, but the moaning makes it hard. "If I could spend all my days wrapped in your arms, buried in your heat- you have no idea how quickly I'd do it." You can feel your cheeks heating up from his, mostly, sweet words, so contrasting from the way he's railing you. "God I love you so much." He groans.

"I- I love you too Luke, more than- more than you know." You pant out.

"Fuck I'm close." He grits out. One of his hands wraps around your waist and finds your clit. It doesn't take much, a few well focused circles of your sensitive bundle of nerves and you're shaking as your orgasm hits, your walls clamping down so tightly around Luke's dick it pulls his orgasm from him too. His hips stop flush against yours as hot spurts flood your inner walls. You practically slump against the bathroom counter as the waves of your release die down. You're not quite sure how he manages but Luke turns you around and lifts you in his arms again somehow without fully pulling out of you. He walks you both over to the bed and lays down with you on top of him, soft dick still buried in your heat. Luke lifts your head from his chest to get your attention.

"I love every part of you with all that I am." He says.

"Thank you. I love you too." You say softly.

"I know insecurities are no easy battle but, yours is a body the Greeks would build statues for. It pains me that you see yourself as less than idolized."

"I'll admit it's much harder to feel that way when you react like this."

"Well I'll just have to make a habit of it then." He kisses your forehead.

"I- can't say I'm opposed to that suggestion." You hum.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And where we on food? Did your appetite come back any?" He asks, hand stroking soothingly down your back.

"Yeah but- I'm too tired to move." You mumble into his chest and he laughs.

"Don't worry I won't make you get up now. I'm sure after a nap your body will convince you to get up and eat, until then let's just lay here."

"Perfect that's exactly what I planned to do." You sigh as you snuggle closer to him. Maybe your insecurities will beat your ass every once in a while, but you smile knowing Luke will be there to fight them with you and that is more than enough for you.

***

[kestisvrse]

proximity, part 9

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader smau & irl

🩹

series | prev | next

specific cw: blood, injury detail

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the infirmary hadn’t been this busy in years.

luckily it cleared out fairly quickly with most injuries being kids getting cut from trees or falling on their knees, quick and easy to patch up.

some were more severe than others, actual cuts from swords on accident, the no maiming rule had apparently been ignored this game.

the worst one was at the end of the game, the conch echoed throughout camp. only one bed in the infirmary remained empty, others being taken up by people currently being stitched up or ones resting.

the front doors burst open, causing you to whip your head around being the only one not currently working. chris led in luke castellan hanging on his shoulder.

his helmet had been discarded, revealing a cut on his cheek and his left side covered in dirt. your eyes trailed down to his hand that clutched his right side, his orange camp shirt seeping with blood.

“oh my gods?!” you exclaimed, running forward to help chris lead the weaker boy to the empty bed. he groaned as he sat down, applying pressure onto his wound as you pulled on gloves, “what happened?”

“some ares kid i forget his name.” chris said, hand on luke’s shoulder, “luke grabbed the flag and he didn’t like the idea of losing.”

you narrow your eyes at chris, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “i’ll take it from here chris, go clean up.”

you sat back in your chair sighing, luke stared at you with a smirk. his bloodied shirt had been discarded to the floor, his stomach stained red with blotchy spots around the stitches you had just finished. exhausted from the day and the worry about luke you plopped in the seat across from him after cleaning up.

“worried about me?” he questioned, a tight lipped smile on his face, trying to act innocent.

“yeah actually, i was.” you said plainly, staring daggers at him, “we both know you are smarter than that, how did you let him get a hit?”

he shrugs, fiddling with the pockets of his cargo shorts, “slipped up i guess.”

you don’t respond in any way, not a subtle body movement, just staring at him.

“i’m fine. you stitched me up.” he said, to which you nodded.

“doesn’t change how terrified i was when you first walked in, luke.” you whispered, he leaned forward as if he had trouble hearing you which he almost did. you stood up to pace the room, interrupted by his rough hand gripping yours, dragging you to stand in between his legs, hand hovering over your waist, scared to touch you.

“i care about you. there i said it, happy?” you admitted, staring down at his brown eyes. a blush appeared on his cheeks as a lopsided smile appeared on his lips.

“that’s all i wanted to hear.” he responded, not taking his eyes off you, “how about a kiss to make me feel better.”

“it would be evil of me to say no, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah actually, i got stabbed i think you have to.” he muttered, placing a finger to his chin like he was thinking, you shook your head biting your lip to hide a grin (it didn’t work.), but he didn’t have time to process your facial expressions when you finally connected your lips to his.

it felt like something he had been waiting years to do, his stomach bursting with a fluttery feeling that made him feel anxious, but it didn’t stop him from kissing back.

his lips were rough, having bit them to distract himself from the pain earlier, while yours felt like you had just put on chapstick, cherry to be specific.

which you had.

he almost pulled you on top of him had a scream not interrupted you, both pulling apart to stare at the door.

clarisse, chris and silena stood there, jaws basically touching the ground as their eyes popped out of their heads.

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tags ⋆ @rosieandthethorns @luvvfromme @pleasingregulus @taelattecookie @csifandom @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @annybah @fxiryeon @yourgirl-mila @harrysnovia @jacqulinm05 @balletfilmss @candylandy8173 @aheheb @ohheyitsrowan @eubybubble @kidkrowk @coconut-dreamz @mehrmonga @auras-moonstone @notacluelessblonde00 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @pipravi4life @witch-demon @gitchagitchyayadada @amortencjja @svnny-days @yuminako @ily-promise @beedeebee @ahh-chickens @ssparksflyy @remussbitch @cherryynovaa @bibblesdiscordkitten @m00ng4z3r @awezomezauce @happy-mushrooms @mxtokko @idli-dosa

[dulcewrites]

I think the most ironic thing about how Alicent’s motherhood gets used against her is that the logic that everything wrong with the targtowers is somehow her fault, completely goes out of the window when people talk about Rhaenyra’s parenting. Everything they do is a reflection of how terrible, awful, and disgusting Alicent is as a mother. But jace and luke’s behavior/actions somehow aren’t reflections of the pitfalls Rhaenyra has as a mother.

Aegon being a rapist is just Alicent fault. Aemond’s anger and resentment is just Alicent’s fault (some people even blame Alicent for him losing his eye yes I’ve seen it). Helaena’s adversion to touch (despite the fact it’s clear phia made an acting choice to play Helaena as neurodivergent plus we literally get scenes of Helaena letting Alicent touch her) is all Alicent’s fault. The rotting, neglectful rapist they all have for a father has absolutely nothing to do with that. And then the goalpost moving. If Alicent doesn’t admonish and totally hate Aegon for being said rapist, she’s a rape apologist who doesn’t want any woman to have rights (a crazy thing to say about a literal victim of rape herself btw). But if she slaps him, she’s an abusive cunt.

But jace and luke, more specifically luke, having no regard nor remorse for bullying then disabling someone is *check notes* seen as cute and normal??? It is apparently not Rhaenyra using the same tactics her father did. So much guilt about the position you have put your children in that in response you will just let them do whatever. This sort of perpetual cycle of gaslighting and withholding information being painted noble or nurturing.

Then when you bring up that argument of how Rhaenyra puts her kids in danger just by having them (much like how people say the same about Alicent despite that not even being her choice), you get hit back with ‘so you wanted her rape her gay husband’ which is like ??? how did you get there lmao. It’s wild, but completely on brand for a fandom that picks and chooses based on who they like, that people can emphathize with the position Rhaenyra was put in because of her gender. But the child bride who literally just has her children to cling to is the worst mother to ever mother.

The sooner people realize that Alicent and Rhaenyra are working up the same rigid rules and crushing pathology of patriarchy, the better off we will all be. The only difference is the way they push back against those structures. Someone like Rhaenyra, a dragon riding princess, can maneuver very differently compared to someone like Alicent. Both are going to fuck up and make decisions that put people in danger/hurt people’s feelings bc they are playing a game that has been rigged for them to lose. So why are the blonde ones allowed more grace than everyone else 🫤

[misc-obeyme]

MC's Bad Day Part 2

Here it is, as requested by anon! MC has a bad day and breaks down crying. This time the side characters react! (As always, still not including the three new characters and Luke is purely platonic!)

GN!MC

Warnings: Crying, generally upset MC.

Diavolo

At the end of the day at RAD, you duck into an empty classroom when you feel the tears coming on. Diavolo hears you as he passes by. Is highly distressed when he enters the classroom to find you sobbing into your hands.

Instantly becomes protective. Kneels next to your chair and puts an arm around your shoulders, takes your chin with his other hand. Tell him what is causing your distress, MC. He will take care of it.

You explain that you're just stressed, there really isn't anything that he needs to "take care of." He doesn't accept this answer. Shakes his head and insists that life in the Devildom should not be causing you such levels of stress that you have to hide out in an empty classroom to cry. He will be looking into this.

For now, though, he will hold you close, soothing you as you cry into his shoulder. Escorts you home and tells Lucifer to watch after you before he leaves.

Barbatos

Notices that you're struggling at RAD and invites you to the castle for dinner. It's just you and him since Diavolo had some important meeting to attend. Makes you your favorite foods. Asks you careful questions in an attempt to get you to talk about your feelings. Once you start talking, you realize what he's doing and the thoughtfulness alone unleashes your tears.

Immediately gathers you into his arms. Holds you close to him while petting your head, letting you cry on him. Stays this way until you've let it all out.

Here, MC, he's already made a soothing tea for you. Please drink it, it will make you feel better. You accept the tea and you're not surprised when it does make you feel better.

Barbatos always has this calming presence, so spending time with him really helps you let go. Will give your shoulders a massage if you let him. Insists you stay the night at the castle so he can pamper you further.

Simeon

Picks up on the fact that you're acting a little off and makes a note to visit you at the House of Lamentation later that evening. He knocks at your bedroom door and waits for your response. Asks you directly if you're doing okay. Has his arms around you the moment he sees your bottom lip start to tremble.

You feel safe in his embrace and really let go, crying out everything that was causing you pain. He rocks you and hums softly in your ear.

It's okay, MC. He's here with you. Everybody has bad days. Just remember that this too shall pass. And he will be here to hold you until it does.

Insists you tell him about everything that went wrong that day, so you can process your feelings about it. Listens carefully and gives advice when asked. Keeps you in his arms the entire time as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Solomon

Solomon stays at RAD late to do some magic experimentation, but he overhears someone crying in the empty hallway. Comes out of the classroom to find it's you. Loses his mind. Instantly teleports you to his room in Purgatory Hall where he grips your arms and looks into your eyes.

What happened, MC? Tell him who caused you to hurt like this and he will end them. You're quick to reassure him that it wasn't anyone specific, you were just having a bad day and it caught up to you, that's all.

His expression softens considerably and he knows you just need him to be with you right now. Apologizes for his initial reaction as he wraps you in his arms. He just couldn't stand the thought of someone causing you so much pain.

Once you're feeling better, Solomon distracts you with magic of course. Casts all kinds of beautiful spells and sneaks in one that's meant to make you feel calm, too. You know exactly what he's up to, but watching him do magic makes you happy so you let him do what he likes.

Luke

Invites you over to Purgatory Hall to have tea with him so you can sample his latest attempt at making a cake from a recipe Barbatos taught him. You take one bite of the cake and burst into tears. Luke straight up panics. You blubber to him about how delicious the cake is.

He's confused now. The cake isn't that good, MC! Are you okay?! You tell him not to worry, you just had a really bad day. Eating cake with him was so nice it unlocked all the stress you'd been holding in.

Luke hovers around you for a minute before giving you a hug and telling you that everything is going to work out. Cuts you another slice of cake. Insists that the more cake you eat, the better you'll feel.

You might be someone for whom eating cake does indeed work, but if not you indulge him anyway. Just being around the cute little angel who is clearly so concerned about you makes you feel better.

masterlist | part 1 with the brothers | Thank you for reading!

[quinnylouhughesx43]

‘Is your Brother Luke?’ Part 2

Summary: The parent’s of the mother of Luke’s daughter discuss the details of losing their daughter. Semi-Luke’s reaction to Lillian and the loss.

Warnings: story of death by genetic condition leading to health complication, rough pregnancy/delivery, heartbreak, handing over parental rights — grandparents, not breaking up but just leaving them, , — possibly more.

🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻

Jack was only used to having his teammates or a girl he managed to pick up at the bar over. So he wasn’t quite sure how to host two strangers. His teammates helped themselves and the girls he brings home are usually helping themselves to him.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly he spoke up, “would either of you like something to drink? I don’t have much. Water, Gatorade, beer?” He tried to laugh it off as if he wasn’t trying to hide the fact he was shaking from head to toe due to his nerves. “We’re okay, thank you.” The couple sat on the loveseat across from where he stood. “I, uh. I didn’t get your names earlier either…” Jack let his words wander off into the quiet of the apartment hoping that if they didn’t want to share with him they wouldn’t close down on him. “Phillip and Ruth Weaver.” Ruth gives Jack a soft smile. Jack feels inclined to reach across and shake Phillip’s hand as it now feels it is an official meeting.

“So Jack, you asked about what happened to our little girl.” Phillip said while making direct eye contact with him. All Jack could do was nod. His nerves are making their way back. “In short, she passed away a couple weeks ago.” Phillip kept his eyes on Jack, but Jack couldn’t look at him or at Ruth. He looked everywhere but at them. He felt like he could be sick. Jack had been silently hoping and wishing since the moment at the door when they said she was gone. That meant she just got up and left. Gave up her rights. But deep inside he knew it meant this. It always meant the worst.

When Jack went to talk next each word came out stumbled over and he was positive that neither Phillip or Ruth understood him. He had asked what happened, needing to know more. He couldn’t be left in the dark.

“Our sweet Lyla Grace was born with a genetic disorder known as Vascular Ehlers Danlos. It’s a recessive gene and it happened to skip current generations, until our baby girl.” Ruth picked up explaining as Phillip doesn’t seem to be able to get past the sentence he just dropped. “Her specific type of Ehlers Danlos is often referred to as the most serious. Vascular Ehlers Danlos affects someone’s blood vessels and their organs. Lyla had many surgeries due to ruptures.” Ruth continued explaining.

Pausing for a moment to gather herself, Jack took the time to breathe. He hadn’t necessarily been holding his breath but it sure felt like it. “When Lyla told us she wanted to go off to Michigan for college we were not for it at first. She was our baby girl. Way too fragile. The girl barely bumped into anything and she bruised like she was hit by a linebacker. But, she convinced us in the end.” Ruth gave a soft smile looking at Lillian who was beginning to stir.

“It wasn’t long after freshman move in she called me all giddy about this boy she had met. Told me his name was Luke, that he played hockey for the college, and that he was the one. She swore by it after only hanging out twice. She was so sure of it. Two days later I started to get pictures of the two of them and it continued. Your brother no doubt loved our Lyla Grace.” Ruth kept talking while she wrangled Lillian out of the seat before she started crying. “He took immaculate care of her. Any time she was sick, he made sure she had what she needed. If he had to leave for his commitment to hockey he took her to the hospital to make sure she was safe. It was sometime in between St. Patrick’s day and the end of the school year when something shifted in Luke. He still treated her right but he wasn’t around as much. It was like he started the shutout process then. When the frozen four rolled around and the loss happened, he just vanished. Three days later is when I get the call from her about the positive test.”

Jack still felt as if he could throw up. He’s heard all about this girl. All about how Luke is going to find her after his rookie season. How he’s going to make it right. How she’s it for him, he’d never been in love before her. Jack has no idea how he’s going to tell his baby brother that he not only had a baby with her and missed it but that she’s gone.

“But..how did she?” Jack asked the open ended question that they each knew what he was needing to know. “We all knew she should not have even thought of keeping her pregnancy, but she was so sure that Luke would come back to her. She was determined to keep going. She carried little britches here almost full term. 35 weeks was when she was delivered. The whole pregnancy was hard. In and out of the hospital because of the risk of hemorrhaging, the stress on her heart, the overall health risk Lyla proposed with the pregnancy. Delivery we were all on pins and needles about her heart. When The delivery was over and clear aside from the excess bleeding she experienced. We thought we made it through and all was good, we never expected it to be 7 months later when the problem showed up with her heart.” Ruth looked like she would break at any moment. She was hanging on to her granddaughter, the only thing left of her daughter. “All the pushing during delivery had created a tear in her heart. The lifting and holding of Lilly put a strain on her and made the tear bigger. We noticed the change in color of her body and took her to the hospital. While waiting for her scans is when she coded. They couldn’t do anything, it was too late.” Phillip finished for his wife with the most monotone voice. Jack hadn’t noticed he had got up and started putting together some sort of baby bed. “Jack, one of the hardest things I have ever had to do is put my baby girl to rest while holding her baby girl. We are not handing her over to Luke because we do not want her. We are handing her over because we are not capable of taking care of her the way she needs us to. Luke is her dad, she already lost her mom. This precious little one needs at least one parent in her life. Luke can provide for her plenty.” Phillip explains to Jack placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jack’s mind is spinning. He’s trying to absorb everything. Clearly they’re wrapping up the visit and are about to leave. He’s not ready to face his brother with the news. He needs to stall them.

“I want your alls contact information. I will make sure you still get to see Lillian and I will arrange all the travel for when it’s planned. You can’t write her out of your life.” Jack talked so fast the couple laughed. “Slow down honey, don’t panic. We appreciate it. We only live about 2 hours away in New York.” Ruth assures him. She places Lillian down in the pack and play Phillip just assembled.

The three of them share goodbyes and their phone numbers. Shutting the door behind him and locking it. Hopefully for the night. Jack runs his fingers through his hair and lets out an instead groan.

“Hey who was just here? And why is there a baby?” Luke asks sauntering down the stairs. “Oh! You’ll love this. So will Quinn let’s call him.” Jack can’t do this alone, so he FaceTimes Quinn. “What’s up with you two? Jack has shit eating grin on, and Luke looks confused.” Jack snickers slightly and Luke repeats his question from moments before. “Jack who was just here and why is there a baby?” Jack moves his phone to sit against the TV as he picks up Lillian and holds her out so her face is next to Luke’s.

“Quinn, meet your niece, Lillian Wren Hughes! You’ll never who the daddy is! I’ll give you a hint. It’s not me BUT he does play for the New Jersey Devils” Jack is full on cackling by now and turns Lillian to show Luke his baby. “Luke Warren Hughes, what did you do?!” Quinn asks from the phone. “Quinn I know you don’t get much action up there in Vancouver and all, but he part—“ before Jack could finish his chirp on his brother about his sex life he hung up.

“Did you say Lillian Wren?” Luke asked taking the 7 month old from his brother. “Uhm, yes? Is that all you’re fixated on you don’t want to know the mom or how she got here?” Jack tried pressing him. “I know who the mom is.” Luke countered. Staring at his little girl as she gives him a smile that shows her one bottom tooth growing in. “You, you do?” Jack asked, swallowing hard. “Yeah, Lyla and I said if we were lucky enough to have kids and had a baby girl her name would be Lillian Wren and if we had a boy it would be Leland Gray.”

Luke was lost in his memories. It’s killing Jack he has to break his heart. Break the fantasy he knows Luke is already creating in his mind. “So who were the older people and if she’s mine and Ly’s where is Ly?” Luke stopped looking down at Lillian to meet his brother’s sad stare.

“They were Ruth and Phillip Weaver. Lyla’s parents. They brought Lillian to you because…maybe I should take Lillian and you sit down before I tell you.” Jack reaches for the baby ask Luke jerks away. “I’ll sit with her. Now tell me.” Luke wasn’t a fan of how soft Jack had suddenly turned or how sad he looked. “Luke, you know Lyla was sick.”

Luke nodded slowly already piecing together what Jack was going to say at the end of this all.

“Carrying Lillian was very hard on her. She was in and out of the hospital. She delivered early. The doctors were worried about her straining her heart while she delivered. Her mom said she had excess bleeding after the delivery but her heart seemed to be okay.” Jack’s mouth felt like sandpaper. Luke could barely breathe. Lillian was pulling on her daddy’s curls. Something new to explore. “It was unknown that she actually had a small tear in her heart from straining and pushing. The months following with bending and picking up little bit, the tear got larger. Her parents said they took her to the hospital the moment they saw a change in her color. But it was too late. I…im sorry Luke but she’s gone.” Jack barely made it through the last part before he had to get up and wrap his younger brother in his arms.

Sobs rattled through Luke. He kept repeating how unfair and cruel this all was. Lillian taking in her surroundings. Jack felt useless and horrible because he had to be the one to deliver the news.

“Jack, please call mom. Please get her the first ticket here. I need her. She’s going to kill me. But I need her.” Luke begged.

What Luke didn’t know was Jack had already booked his mom’s ticket when the Weaver’s were there.

[ride-thedragon]

Sometimes, it feels like people brush aside Laenor's role as a parental figure for Jace and Luke, putting Daemon on a pedestal instead, the epitome of fatherhood. Honestly, Daemon wouldn't hesitate to get rid of Jace and Joffrey if it meant securing the throne for his and Rhaenyra's sons, with him as regent until they came of age. Given how little he seems to care for his own daughters, at least in the show, it's hard to believe he is a good father to Rhaenyra's boys. Daemon's actions often come off as self-serving, and even if he does "love" Rhaenyra, it seems more like she's just a means to an end for him. It was quite pleased to see Laena haunting his ass. I really roll my eyes when people say Daemon is a better father. Hearing how Jace remembers Laenor paints a different picture. Laenor cared for the boys... like he couldn't stop looking at baby Joffrey with so much wonder. He saw these boys as his own. It would have been interesting to see how Jace, Luke, Rhaena, and Baela felt about Daemon and Rhaenyra's marriage. So far, the show has shown them in a rather submissive light, accepting the marriage right after losing Laena and Laenor. These kids lost one parent and then watched the other remarry quickly. I'm also keen to see more interaction between Corlys and Jace. We haven't really seen much of their relationship in the show. It would be great to see Corlys talking to his granddaughters as well. Not sure if Corlys really cared about Luke or if Luke is just another piece in his political game. These poor kids, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena, should just leave, take Joffrey, and start a new life far away from all this mess.

I agree with this.

I think people were so quick to romanticise Daemon and Rhaenyra without observing the real conflict of it. Now they say the show is destroying them when in truth it isn't. They're building on already established conflicts.

When it comes to Laenor 100%. In the same way, they refuse to see that Rhaenyra isn't the best mother. They refuse to give Laenor his flowers. The only thing it seemed Laenor didn't do for those boys was sire them himself. Luke was knee-deep in the bastard allegations but refused to believe he wasn't Laenor’s.

They never have a bad thing to say about Laenor. Even when the narrative shifted to him leaving I didn't seem genuine without the threat that loomed that he had little choice otherwise.

This show has a really bad habit of not wanting conflict (specifically with team black but not exclusively) because it makes it seem as though they love each other else or audiences won't think they're family. It's really dumb and underestimating for the audience they have.

Rhaena doesn't want to go, Rhaenyra basically rehashed the Laenor arc and said it'll happen regardless, and then she gets dragon eggs, so the conflict is avoided.

Baela gets to be sad but not too sad about Rhaenys and tells Corlys she isn't Velayron as though that's a bad thing to be in comparison to being a Targaryen. She's the ward of Driftmark and Bride to be of the heir but still. Her entire identity is both.

Jace gets to hear the asoiaf prophecy, but he doesn't get to react or contend it with his bastardy. Neither does he get to truly argue with Rhaenyra. It’s all implied.

There is a clear aversion to conflict within the faction unless it can be rectified within the episode or carried out by some evil like Daemon or Misogyny.

I just hope they can do better next time because its truly boring and somehow more toxic than the greens. At least they don't dismiss their feelings entirely, it's used to build plots.

[blues824]

I read that angels and demons have true forms, and theoretically, everyone in obey me might have a true form. And going with mc being descended from Lilith who was an Angel, maybe they are resistant to the whole “see nonhumans true form makes you lose your sanity” thing, I kind of want to see this scenario: Simeon and Luke: “Be not afraid.” MC: 😐”…I think I just wet myself”

I am combining these two into one! Basing it off of this picture. This is platonic.

Lucifer

You had pointed out his wings and shattered halo, along with the horns and fangs at a time where he wasn’t showing his demon form at all. Not just that, but he never had fangs or a halo in the form you’ve seen. You tell him that you have always been able to see their true forms.

He has reason to suspect that it came from your descension from Lilith. It grew to a very concerning point when you even said that you could see his former angel form, the one with the eyes and wings. No human has ever seen that and lived… are you sure you are human?

Mammon

He let out a shriek when you said that he looked kind of creepy with all the eyeballs and wings and broken halo. He hasn’t seen that form in millenia! You had to be joking somehow, but there was no way you would have been able to see that form of him.

He immediately went to tell Lucifer, and when he saw the concerned look on his older brother’s face, he knew that it was serious. You were already different because of your connection with Lilith, but now you’re saying that you can handle seeing their true forms as angels and demons.

Leviathan

He definitely did not like it when you asked him about his fallen angel form, especially when you asked about details that there was no possible way you could ask about unless you could actually see it… oh no.

Once you had left, he texted the House of Lamentation group chat (the one that excluded you) about what just happened. The chat immediately blew up with curiosity and concern, along with a bunch of questions that no one had the answer to.

Satan

You had pointed out his true demon form, and even commented on how he looked like a typical demon that was portrayed in medieval paintings. His neck turned so fast you would have been afraid it would snap if he were human.

He reported the incident to Lucifer and Diavolo, and the latter reasoned that it could be because of your connection to Lilith. You were a mystery, one that Satan didn’t truly know if he would want to solve. After all, you just reminded him of the thing he could never truly escape: Wrath.

Asmodeus

He was doing your makeup when you asked if his true angel form felt uncomfortable. He didn’t know what you were talking about until you elaborated. You told him how you were able to see his broken halo and the wings and eyes that littered his body.

Asmo quickly changed the subject, but he didn’t forget about it. He texted the HoL group chat about it, asking Lucifer specifically if he knew what was going on. After all, no one has seen their true forms in millennia.

Beelzebub

When you asked about his true angel form, but with the messed up halo and tears falling down from the many eyes, he was definitely freaked out. You usually don’t see him so stunned, so you were concerned.

Beel quickly told Lucifer, who reasoned that it might be because you are related to Lilith. The typical human would go mad if they saw their true forms, so your angelic roots might have made you immune to them.

 

Belphegor

He hasn’t seen his angelic form in thousands of years. When you point it out to him, he’s hit with nostalgia of playing with Beel and Lilith in the Celestial Realm. It’s all bittersweet memories that he can never experience again.

It made him wonder if you could see everyone else’s form, and you confirmed that it was the only thing you could see rather than their typical demon forms. He told Lucifer about it, and they deduced it to your relation to Lilith.

Simeon

He was scared when you said that his wings and many eyes looked beautiful. He cared about you too much to allow you to go insane, but he let out a sigh of relief when he realized that you seemed alright.

He thinks that it could be because of your connection to Lilith, which makes the most sense. Angels were immune to other angels, and that was the explanation that seemed to ring true in this case.

Luke

You weren’t prepared for the scream he let out when you told him that his angel form was beautiful and majestic. You did not cover your ears in time. Luke was squeezing you so tight, begging you not to go insane.

He was almost in tears with fear, until Simeon told him that since you were related to Lilith, you were completely okay. Now the young angel let out tears of joy and relief. You thought it was adorable how much he cared about you.

[babydollmarauders]

AUGUST PT 2 — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

THIS IS A VERY LATE PART 2 TO THIS FIC

summary: in which y/n has been in love with Quinn for years and now she deals with the emotional consequences of a summer situationship.

specific lyrics: “you weren't mine to lose.” and “i can see us lost in the memory, august slipped away into a moment in time. 'cause it was never mine. and i can see us twisted in bedsheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine. 'cause you were never mine.”

warnings: underage drinking

notes: this is almost five months late…. better late than never, right? ummm….. i hope y’all enjoy 🫣

**SEPTEMBER 21ST 2018**

the last week of this summer passed by in a blur. my final seven days being spent with Jack and his friends, and my nights being taken by his brother. i never did confess my feelings to Quinn, and as a result, i now sit back in my bedroom at home, watching snapchat stories of him at a party. my focus zeroes in solely on the girl clinging to his arm in the most recent picture. he wears a smile on his face and in the hand not occupied by the girl, he holds a generic red solo cup.

i have no right to feel jealous. to be so upset. he was never actually mine, no matter how much i wanted him to be. we were never exclusive. our rendezvous last month were just good times for him, and i knew that. so why did it still hurt? why did it still feel like my heart was broken?

i suppose i could chalk it up to the fact that he never clarified anything. he never outright admitted that our escapades meant nothing to him, but he also never said they meant anything either. however, they meant everything to me. they gave me hope that maybe he felt the same feeling that i’ve harbored for four years. but then he left with a simple ‘goodbye’.

i foolishly hoped that he would call me when he got back to school, that maybe he was just too nervous to say anything to my face, but now it’s 3 weeks later and the only Hughes’ i’ve heard from are his brothers. Jack texting me random updates of his life every day, and Luke and i speaking on the phone when i wished him a happy birthday earlier this month.

and i can’t make the excuse of ‘he’s busy.’ because i see him on social media, partying after wins and hanging out with friends between classes. he surely has enough free time to call me or even send a simple text. but, i suppose he doesn’t care to contact me because it never meant anything to him; and i guess he assumed it wasn’t anything to me either.

**NOVEMBER 16TH, 2018**

a glass of wine secured in my hand, i’m sat on the couch, scrolling through social media. my parents went out for a date night, leaving me with a house to myself for the night, and i’ve taken advantage by cracking open a bottle of wine and actually leaving my room. it wasn’t much, but i was relaxed. my thumb swipes over my phone screen, scrolling down my instagram timeline, and i stop at a picture of Quinn.

His arm is around a blonde girl’s shoulders as she hugs his waist, a small smile gracing his lips while she wears a large, toothy grin. it’s been months since i’ve last spoken with him, yet it doesn’t make it sting any less to see him with another girl. tears well in my eyes at the remembrance of his easy dismissal of me. the way that he left at the end of the summer with nothing more than a ‘bye.’

maybe it’s the adrenaline pumping through my veins, maybe the fact that i’m over feeling worthless over a guy, or maybe it’s the nearly entire bottle of wine that’s flushing through me right now; but i’ve finally had enough. swiping out of instagram, i scroll through my contacts until i find the one i’m searching for, my thumb hovering close over the call button but too hesitant to actually press it.

“this is stupid.” i mutter to myself, hanging my head. it’s in that moment that my dog decides to come over, sniffing me and nudging at the back of my phone, resulting in the tapping of the button. “shit!”

it’s too late now, the damage is done. he’ll get notified that i called him, regardless of if i were to hang up right now anyways, so i bring the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring. once. twice. a third time, before it connects.

“y/n? what’s up?” his voice is raspy and i wonder if i woke him. it’s only ten at night, but if i remember correctly, he has a game tomorrow, so it doesn’t surprise me that he would be asleep this early. i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the words that need to be said.

“you’re a shitty person, you know that?” i surprise even myself with the anger that comes through with my words. my honest feelings being spoken.

“i’m sorry?” he sounds confused, but it’s not an actual apology, it’s more of an ‘excuse me?’ if anything.

“you heard me. you’re an asshole.” i tell him, rising to my feet to pace around my living room, my dog following me like a shadow. “i wish i had never met you.”

“okay, ouch, hold on, what did i do?” he questions. i hear shuffling in the background and i assume he’s sitting up in his bed now. “we haven’t even spoken in like, what? two and a half months?”

“exactly! that’s the problem!” i’m acutely aware that i’m raising my voice at this point, but i just don’t understand how he doesn’t see the issue with this.

“you’re mad at me because i haven’t talked to you lately? i still don’t understand.” i halt my pacing at his words, my dog bumping into the backs of my legs at my abrupt stop.

“i’m mad because you strung me along this past august. i’m mad because you left me with nothing but a simple ‘bye’. i’m mad because i’ve liked you for the past four years and then you didn’t even have the decency to explain to me whatever it was that we were doing this summer!” i huff. “i would’ve understood if you just told me it meant nothing to you. that you just wanted some action or whatever. but instead you didn’t tell me shit! you let me believe that maybe you liked me back. that maybe we could have been something. and then you just left me with radio silence and i have to see you on social media with girls hanging off of you and wonder if i just wasn’t good enough. that’s why i’m mad.”

Quinn is silent for a few moments, maybe holding out to see if i’m done, maybe gathering his thoughts, but it’s eerily quiet. but then as quickly as the silence started, it ends.

“y/n.” he sighs my name, sounding exhausted. “if i knew how you felt, i would’ve tried to define what we were doing. i wasn’t sure what was happening, just that i liked spending time with you and i liked being close to you.”

“being close to me? or fucking me?” i ask him.

“both, y/n/n. is that what you wanna hear?” he’s getting frustrated, i can hear it. “yes. i liked fucking you. and i liked being with you. just us two. i’m sorry that i didn’t call you, i thought that’s how you wanted it. but, i see now that i should’ve talked to you about it instead of assuming. i didn’t realize that what we were doing meant so much to you. but you could’ve ended it at any point.”

“why would you think i would do that? that i would end it? i’m literally telling you right now that i wanted more.” i heave out a breath, dropping back onto the couch and pulling my legs up to my chest. “Quinn, i just wanted you to call me. to say something, i don’t know! say you had fun this summer, say you can’t wait to see me next summer, say you like me, say you hate me, anything. just don’t go silent on me and make me think i’m insane for thinking you like me as much as i like you.”

“i’m so sorry, y/n.” he mutters, i quiet and slow. “i should’ve talked to you. i should’ve told you that i felt the same. i should’ve thought about how you were feeling and not just me. but now that i know, i’d really like to try.”

“you would?” i inquire, keeping my antsy fingers busy by picking at a stray string on my hoodie. “how?”

“maybe… maybe you could come to one of my games? and we could go out to eat afterwards?” he sounds unsure, like maybe he’s afraid i’ll say no.

“like a date?” i ask meekly.

“yeah,” Quinn chuckles and my heart picks up at the sound. i’ve always loved his laugh. “exactly like a date.”

i’m quiet, my bottom lip captured between my teeth, holding back a squeal.

“what do you think?” he pipes up again, once again seeming nervous.

“i think, i’d really like that.” i confess before burying my face in a throw pillow beside me, muffling my excited scream.

when i raise the phone back to my ear, Quinn is laughing; apparently the pillow didn’t cover as much of noise as i thought it would.

“next friday, i have a game against Wisconsin, does that work?”

“sounds perfect.” i grin, nodding my head, even though he can’t see me.

“okay, i’ll see you then?”

“i’ll see you then.” i confirm.

“goodnight, y/n/n. i can’t wait to see you.” he tells me and i repeat a ‘goodnight’ before we hang up.

i look down at my dog, who stares at me with his head tilted.

“Ollie, you are a matchmaker.” i coo, scratching behind his ears. his mouth drops open, his tongue falling out in content as i dote on him.

**November 23rd, 2018**

today is the day.

i spent all morning getting ready; my hair is done, my makeup perfected, and i tried on about six different outfits before my mother told me to stop worrying and just go.

and after a three and a half hour drive, in which i had to pull over twice to shake myself out and get my jitters out; i’ve pulled into Yost Ice Arena with 10 minutes to spare before the game starts.

Quinn and i have texted non-stop since we planned tonight, and he assured me last night on the phone, that there’ll be a ticket waiting for me at the front.

pulling the keys from the ignition, i grab my purse and do a once-over of my face in the rearview mirror before exiting the vehicle. stretching my legs, i make my way inside the arena, stopping to get my ticket before i head in towards the seating.

i’m sat towards the middle, a perfect view of the ice. my legs shake in anxiety as the crowd roars, the players filing on the ice and getting faceoff position.

it’s amazing how much i’ve learned about hockey in the past four years of knowing the Hughes’.

it’s a rather uneventful first period, neither team scoring. the second isn’t much better, Wisconsin scoring once mere minutes into the period, but that’s the only goal. Michigan ties it up in the third, with Quinn landing an assist on the goal, and i’m shaking in nervousness as i hope for a second Michigan goal. but it never comes.

moving onto overtime, neither team scores, resulting in a tie. but the teams still go on, starting a second overtime of three-on-three to determine who gets the extra point. it’s not even a minute into the second overtime when Quinn passes the puck to Josh Norris, who i’ve met once or twice at the lake house, and Josh lands the puck in the back of the net.

the crowd goes wild, me included, jumping up to our feet and cheering as the guys celebrate.

both teams file off of the ice relatively quick, and in result, the crowd begins to fan out. fans leaving the arena. but i stay back.

Quinn told me to meet him out front of the arena in half an hour, so i opt to lounge here for an extra few to kill time, scrolling through instagram and reading Jack’s texts; asking why i’m in Ann Arbor and if i plan to come see him before i leave. stupid Life360.

i call him rather than text, making my way out of the arena as he picks up.

“what are you doing in Ann Arbor?” he cuts straight to the point, not bothering with any catch up.

“well hello to you too.” i chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“yeah, yeah, hi. what are doing in Ann Arbor?” he repeats.

“i came to see Quinn’s game. i promise, i’ll come and see you tomorrow morning before i drive back home.” i assure him. “wait, are you even gonna be back from Illinois in the morning?”

“yeah, we’re on the bus back now.” he assures me.

“okay, good. i saw online that you got an assist! congrats bub!”

“thanks. we still lost though.” he tells me, his voice full of dejection.

“you’ll get ‘em next time!” i reassure, pacing outside Yost, pulling my jacket tighter to my chest to keep myself warm in the cool Michigan air.

“yeah.” he breaths. “so why are you at Quinn’s game?”

his tone is teasing, as though he doesn’t actually believe i’m here for Quinn.

“we’re going on a date.” i admit, preparing myself for his response.

“oooh! you’re finally getting out of the friendzone?!” he exclaims, and i can hear Trevor’s voice chime in from beside him, telling him to quiet down. which i find ironic, considering Trevor is ever the loud mouth.

“what?! you knew i liked him?!” i question, making him chuckle.

“uh, yeah. it was so obvious.” he replies through laughter. “i also know you were hooking up with him this summer. you weren’t very subtle.”

my jaw drops in astonishment.

“we were so subtle!” i shout, and i can hear Trevor piping up again on the other side of the phone.

“who? y/n and Quinn? oh yeah, everyone knew.”

“shut up, Zegras!” i yell, and i can hear both boys bark out in laughter.

“why didn’t you say anything?” i ask.

“who was i to say something, when you were trying so hard to keep it on the down low?” he teases.

i look up from my pacing feet when i hear footsteps, locking eyes with Quinn, who smiles at the sight of me, nearly taking my breath away.

“i gotta go.” i breath out, and Jack lets out an immature ‘oooooooh’

“have fun with my brother!” he calls out and i groan.

“shut up. i’ll see you tomorrow.” i sing, before hanging up.

“my brother?” Quinn questions, as if he already knows the answer.

“yeah.” i nod. “apparently, i found out, we weren’t as subtle as we thought, in August.”

“we were so subtle!” he exclaims, making me giggle.

“that’s what i said!” i tell him. his hand reaches out towards mine, and i anxiously intertwine mine with his. “so, where are we going?”

“there’s a really cute diner, about a fifteen minute walk from here.” he explains, as we begin walking. “i figured we could go there.”

“sounds perfect.” i breath out. his eyes are glued to the cement, watching his feet, but i watch him. “congrats on the assists! i know a tie wasn’t really the outcome you guys were hoping for, but it was a riveting game.”

he laughs, his head dropping back, and a bright smile overtakes my lips at the melodious sound dropping from his.

“babe, there were only two goals in a full hour of game play.” he reminds me.

“babe?” i question, and his hand tightens around mine for a second.

“yeah.” he shrugs, attempting to seem nonchalant, but i can tell by his face, when he turns to me, that he’s nervous. “you’re my girl now.”

“i’m your girl?” i smirk. “i like the sound of that.”

“me too.” he brings us to a halt, turning his body to mine.

his hand rises to cup my cheek, his face lowering to mine until our breaths mingle together. my eyes flutter shut, slowly, and the next thing i know, his lips are crashing against mine in a deep kiss.

and i know, in this moment, i’ll do anything to keep him. because now, he’s mine to lose.

[noodles-doodles01]

Ok I know I’ve been standing on this soapbox for a hot minute now but I keep seeing takes that irk me, like yes opinions are a thing but if you’re deliberately ignoring stuff like stop

Aemond has always been set up to be the way he is presented this season. One of the major recurring themes of this show is how second sons act in the face of their own powerlessness (Otto, Daemon, Aemond and Vaemond).

Aemond grew up a mama’s boy, he constantly comforted his mother and went to her for comfort when the other boys hurt him. Alicent defends Aemond relentlessly when he’s a child (in turn taking it out on Aegon, but still). Furthermore, Aemond is the child that openly talks about Rhaenyra’s kids being bastards, and it’s made clear in S1 that he hears Alicent saying it, which implies he spends more time with her. All that to say the boy is close with his mom as a kid.

All that changed when he loses his eye, Alicent is in major distress and can’t get the justice he deserves, she acts out and is frazzled. He steps in to comfort her saying he got Vhagar, which is worth more than his eye. The dynamic switches then for a lot of characters after this episode, including them. He goes from being her son to being her emotional support. We know this because when Aegon goes missing in ep 9, she goes to Aemond and he knows exactly how to calm her down.

Not to mention it wouldn’t be surprising if Alicent constantly reminded him of his eye and how he deserves better, it would add to his anger toward Luke.

Now onto the major stuff:

In FnB, when Aemond comes back from Storms end and announces he killed Luke, Alicent is horrified and prays to the Mother for mercy. Now, assuming the same reaction was given in this case, Aemond is to some degree annoyed with Alicent. Yes he regrets killing Luke, but Alicent has Aemond removed from the council, and she doesn’t speak to him thus far. I can imagine he feels a bit betrayed by her out of everyone, seeing that she spend years shit talking Rhaenyra and her kids, and dumping all this emotional weight onto him and making him feel like he deserved better. Not to mention Alicent knew of their teasing etc, so imagine you make one mistake which is correlated to this behaviour and your mom essentially shuns you for it?

(I’m not defending him I’m just giving his perspective)

It’s why Aemond tells Cole that she speaks with two tongues: she speaks of playing fair when she usurped the throne with Otto and Viserys’ own council. She berated Rhaenyra behind closed doors but defended her the moment any true harm came her way. She says she does all this to save her children, yet essentially discards them when they don’t follow her idea of what they should be.

It’s what makes the brothel scene so sad, Aemond goes to a woman who we know he does not feel all to comfortable with in S1, knowing she will tell him what he wants to hear bc it’s her job. And he airs out all his feelings to her about Daemon, Luke, and hints of his childhood. You know, stuff you’d open up to your mom about.

That act of going to the brothel and being vulnerable is to tell us that he has distanced himself from Alicent, seeking her comfort elsewhere. So to keep track: Viserys and Alicent are both not in the forefront of Aemond’s mind as family atm.

Now ofc when we’re talking about terrible family members, we have to talk about Aegon.

Aegon has hurt anyone that gets near him and he’s depicted to be cruel since s1. He leads the bullying against Aemond and constantly sexually assaults the maids. With Aemond specifically, it’s clear that their relationship is very hit or miss. Either they’re quiet and civil or Aegon is dragging Aemond through the dirt. And I feel like that dynamic is implied (and I personally believe it stems from Alicent clearly favouring Aemond over Aegon and it’s just resentment).

We first are introduced to this when Larys makes up the lie about how the townspeople are talking about Aegon being tricked by his council to head to battle such that Alicent and Aemond can rule in his stead, when you look at Aegons expression, he looks so devastated, and he shakes his head refusing to believe it. However, he ultimately chooses to stay, meaning that some part of him truly does believe they would do such a thing to him.

It is followed by Aegons friends mentioning getting one of the new squires drunk, and Aegon again seems to be hesitant l, but ultimately agrees. Aegon gets very drunk as he does, and when he finds Aemond with thé madame he tears him to shreds. It’s to a point where even Aegon’s friends are very uncomfortable. It’s absolutely humiliating and ruins Aemond’s place of peace.

And we see with that flicker in his eye that he is done. He has done everything he needed to prove himself and it isn’t enough, he isn’t respected by Aegon, isn’t comforted by his mother, unloved by his father and honestly just seen as a tool by his grandfather. It’s finally made clear that playing the role of the helpful second son to his family is no longer an option.

He has to make a name for himself by himself.

(Ofc my opinion may change depending on how the plot moves forward, but if they go the route I think they are, then I stand by this)

[emrysflame]

My opinion on the eye incident

Now there is still some discourse with this topic so I wanted to give my own personal thoughts with it.

I want to start off by saying that I don’t really blame any of the children. Not really. They are children and honestly this fandom needs to stop judging a child character for not making adult rational decisions. They are children.

I do blame the adults who should have been watching them. Why are five royal children able to roam around a castle at night with no guards around? Why was Aemond able to claim a dragon with no one knowing? Why were Jace, Luke and the twins able to go out of their chambers and roam around? Why were no adults watching them?

Also to the point of Jace bringing a knife. He’s a royal child. A royal male. It’s not uncommon for male royal children to be carrying knifes/small dagger. It’s really not something that should be a surprise.

Also the four children were not looking specifically for Aemond. They didn’t know who went to Vhagar until they saw Aemond. “It’s you.” Implies that they didn’t know until they saw Aemond. Saying they maliciously went after Aemond specifically is wrong.

I don’t blame Aemond for being angry over losing his eye. I don’t believe Aemond stole Vhagar. I don’t believe dragons can be stolen. BUT he did claim her right after a funeral for two young children’s mother. I can see why they would be upset. They just lost their mother and now just lost a connection to their mother, her dragon. Is Aemond wrong for claiming Vhagar, no. But I don’t think it’s wrong for the twins to be upset.

I also don’t blame Luke for what he did. He genuinely believed that Aemond was going to kill Jace. It doesn’t matter what we know to be true, Luke in his mind thought his brother was going to be killed. Anyone in that position would try to do anything they can to save the person they love and care for.

Should Luke have been more punished for what he did? Sure. But those punishments shouldn’t be: sending him to the Wall. He’s a child. That is weird. If you want to bring up young characters who were sent to the Wall, go for it. It’s still weird to want to send him there.

No he shouldn’t lose his titles and sent away. First, that wasn’t ever going to happen but it also doesn’t make sense. What Luke did was in defense. And you could say that Aemond calling them bastards (which they are legally legitimate as Laenor claimed them as his children.) would be considered treason. But no one is advocating for Aemond to lose his titles (and I’m not either. But I’m saying Luke shouldn’t have to lose his).

And no he shouldn’t have his eye cut out either. That’s also another weird punishment to want to do to a child. Wanting to see a child maimed is weird. Luke didn’t purposefully cut out the eye of Aemond. He was defending his brother but we don’t see him purposely cutting out his eye. Do you really think holding down a CHILD to cut out his eye is appropriate?

All in all, I don’t blame any of the children. The adults should have been watching them. There is an argument that all the children did something to escalate the fight but they are children and I don’t blame children for not making rational adult choices.

[hold-him-down]

Occam’s Razor

TW: medical torture, med whump, needles, drugs, noncon drugging, restraining, clinical setting, bone whump, spine whump, institutionalized slavery, whumper pov somewhere in there, etc.  

Notes: it’s the future if you have questions you’re welcome to ask but I might not have answers (but I probably do for most of them?). This is 2 months into contract, sandwiched between this and this. It has no business being over 3k words but it is and I’m not one to argue with my word count so you get ‘em all. This has been in the works since the very beginning as a little med whump piece, and now ya have it.

✥ ✥ ✥

If Luke’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel is any indication, the calm exterior is not entirely indicative of his headspace. Leo regards him, only slightly comforted by the fact that, for the first time in so many years, someone will be waiting for him on the other side.

On the other side of what, it’s unclear. The director of one of the sites called Luke earlier in the week and said he needed to bring Leo in. 

Luke pressed for information, and only after his lawyer got involved were they given any details. Something about his bone marrow being a likely match to a finance mogul’s teenage son, and they were invoking line seventy-six in the contract. No permanent harm would come to Leo, and the contract could be extended to the extent of his recovery time. 

He was in the room when Luke found out. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but he froze, watching Luke’s face go from red with anger to ghost white, and then Luke excused himself to his office, and Leo forced himself to take a bite of his dinner.

His hands shook, but that wasn’t new to him.

Luke did what he does best, which was make every threat he could, shout about some outdated laws that didn’t apply to workers, call in another high profile attorney to read through the contract, lose sleep, and eventually, have a serious conversation with him about the absence of any legal legs to stand on. 

That day had been the first time Leo had seen Luke cry. Leo didn’t cry, though. He nodded, he said it was okay, and, in a particularly courageous moment, he asked if Luke thought it would hurt. Stupid question, and he knew that the moment the words hit his tongue. Of course it would hurt.

Luke promised then that he’d make sure it didn’t. And Leo smiled, nodded, and changed the subject. Because, at least he suspected, that Luke really didn’t know. But maybe, he convinced himself, maybe Luke could work a miracle.

✥ ✥ ✥

They let Luke come back with him, after a lengthy discussion that consisted mostly of thinly veiled threats. Leo keeps his eyes on the floor. He doesn’t think he’s had this specific procedure done before, but he knows it can’t be worse than some of the other things that have been done to him in the name of making wealthy men’s lives easier. 

He made a mistake last night, though, and looked up the procedure on his phone. While he wasn’t certain exactly what he was looking for, he stumbled across more than a few resources for workers’ rights regarding medical ‘donation’, and a range of possibilities for what those procedures looked like.

None of them looked good.

He carried his phone into the living room and showed Luke; another mistake. Luke, solemnly, read it over.

“It won’t be like that,” Luke said, but his expression was tight. 

“Are you sure?” Leo asked then, his third mistake.

Luke’s eyes rose from the phone to meet his. “I swear to you, Leo. I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re taken care of.”

And then, just as Leo was about to go back to bed, to try to get at least a few hours of sleep, he turned back. “Do you think–” he started, swallowing, his eyes digging into an invisible spot on the floor. He had learned, over the course of the last several years, that he was entitled to no support, no resources, no favors. But, if the last eight weeks had taught him anything, it was that Luke was, at least on some level, willing to help him. He took a breath. It was despiration that made him ask the question: “Do you think they’d let another doctor do the procedure? Maybe your brother, or you–”

Luke took a sharp breath and shook his head and Leo’s shoulders dropped, his arms wrapping around his belly, dread winding itself deeply inside of him. “I tried,” Luke said, and Leo nodded.

“Leo, you have to know I tried. They wouldn’t budge.” Luke stood, crossing the room, and Leo nodded again.

“It’s okay,” Leo said. It was a silly thing to request, and it didn’t matter if Luke tried or not. He had survived worse, and he would survive this.  

He didn’t sleep, though. 

Now, he pulls off his clothes and is changed into a hospital gown. Luke is outside of the room talking with the doctor. They are in a medical wing of one of the private sites, and Leo does all the things he’s supposed to do. He stands on the scale, he answers the questions, he submits to whatever they want him to submit to.

By the time Luke returns, with a woman in her forties with kind eyes that almost– almost– convince him he can get through this, Leo has an IV in his arm, a pillow to his chest, and a warm kind of zinging running through him. It feels weird, and he doesn’t like it, but if it helps him get through the next couple hours, he can accept it. 

“How are you feeling?” the woman, who’s name tag reads Dr. Jennifer Benson, M.D., but who Leo will not address by name unless he’s told to, asks. She is flanked by two handlers, and Luke, looking pale but offering the warmest smile he can. Leo tries to approximate one in return, but knows it doesn’t land.

“I’m okay,” Leo says.

Distantly, he hears Luke talking to one of the handlers and he smiles. He knows he’s at least a little bit loopy, so he’s definitely been given something that will do something, and he hopes it’s good. He feels less anxious, at least.

“Edison Black assured me I could stay for the procedure,” Luke says, all official. He sounds like the Luke on the news, in a suit, yelling about rights and freedoms and America. He squints and scans the room slowly to find his Luke, in his sweater and jeans and yelling about local anesthetics. Leo’s finding it difficult to split his focus on the words they’re saying, on the feeling of the handler moving next to him, on the ringing in his ears.

Sometimes, if he asks, they let him close his eyes until the worst is over. If they allow Luke to stay, he won’t ask. And he won’t cry out when it hurts. And tomorrow can be a normal day.

Through the buzzing in his ears he hears the doctor, full of sympathy that he knows will dissolve once Luke leaves, saying, “Unfortunately, that isn’t possible. We will keep him safe. It’s a simple procedure, very low risk, he’ll be done within an hour.” 

None of these words comfort him, but he finds Luke’s eyes across the room and tries to smile again. It’s going to be fine. He’s been through worse, and he’ll go through this, and then it’ll be over and he will go back to Luke’s house and sleep. 

Luke makes his way over to him and kneels down, and Leo works to maintain focus. “They won’t let me stay,” he whispers. Leo nods.

“It’s okay,” he says. His eyes hold Luke’s, his expression conveying something that he thinks is reasonably close to I’ll be alright. He must have missed the mark, though, because Luke stands abruptly, and starts fighting with them again.

Leo wants to tell him to stop, that it’s pointless, that it’s futile, that it’s a waste of his effort and that he will, one way or another, make it out okay.

He opens his mouth to say it but the security guard comes in, and they shuffle Luke toward the door.

“I’ll be right in the waiting room,” Luke calls to him. 

He swallows back the anxiety, and he tries to say, “It’s okay,” again, but nothing comes out.

“They said they’ll give you an anesthetic, Leo. It won’t hurt, okay?” Luke breaks past the guard and pushes toward him. As the handlers approach him, Luke snaps, “Just give me a second,” his tone sharp. At some signal that Leo can’t see, they back off.

“I’ll be in the waiting room, okay?” His eyes shut as Luke grips into the back of his neck, the pressure a familiar presence that does, if nothing else, offer some semblance of comfort.

“I promise, I will be right outside, and they’ve assured me they’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” A half-hearted smile.

“It won’t hurt.” A nod.

Leo isn’t sure if Luke believes his own words, but as the guard ushers him toward the door, the look that Luke casts on the room, on the doctor, and finally, on Leo, makes him think maybe he doesn’t.

And then he’s gone, and almost immediately, Leo feels his hands start to shake.

✥ ✥ ✥ [here’s the cut scene from what would land right here]

He is on his side, his body curled around a pillow, when the first of the needles goes into his spine. He flinches, but stills under the glare of the handlers. They watch him with a familiar hunger, not for pleasure, but for violence. Tears sting at his eyes, but the thoughts of disappointing them, of what they might do if they think he’s unlearned all the years of training, keep them from falling. Instead, he digs his fingers into the pillow while they take what they want from him. He isn’t even sure what it was.

He’s not naive enough to believe that’s it; they’d have let Luke stay for that. He knows without a doubt that it would be in vain, but still, he itches to ask them what’s going to happen next, if just so he can mentally prepare himself. 

He doesn’t, though. He’s given a paper cup of water and his shaking hands give him away, but no one pays attention to that.

“Alright, Leo,” the doctor says, from somewhere behind him. Suddenly, her hand is on his shoulder, the handler takes the cup and the pillow, and a chill runs through Leo’s body. She guides him onto his stomach and he complies, the loss of the pillow in his grip an immediate empty presence that makes the room even colder.

“Easy,” the doctor says, and he mutters an apology and adjusts his body to the closest thing to comfort he can find.

She gives him a quick run-down of what’s going to happen. It’ll hurt, she tells him, but it’s very important that he stays very still. If he tries to get up, if he tries to fight, the pain will be significantly worse. This needle is quite a bit bigger than the last, and if nothing else, he needs to hold still. A hospital stay is the last thing he wants, she tells him, and if he needed any convincing, that would have done it.

“You’ve been given muscle relaxers and a mild sedative to help take the edge off the pain,” she says, gloved hands manipulating him to adjust his positioning. He does.

She waits for his response, and he isn’t sure what’s expected of him, so he says softly, “Thank you.”

He hears her intake of breath and feels the cool air hit his skin as the blanket is removed. He grips the sides of the table as they get him ready for what he knows now, without a question, is going to be bad. One of the handlers pats the top of his hand and he peeks up at them. They nod, a kind of I’m-right-here-if-this-goes-bad gesture that is too vague for Leo to know if it’s meant to be comforting or threatening.

It turns out he doesn’t need to decide, because a moment later, he feels the familiar sting of a needle and gasps, and almost instantly, he realizes that it’s going to be so much worse–

The needle cuts into his bone and he howls on instinct, his fingers clutching almost painfully into metal, but he doesn’t feel that. He doesn’t feel anything beyond the needle making its way slowly into his bone. He only knows he’s screaming because of the rawness of his throat, from the vague ‘shhing’ coming from somewhere beyond his reach. He wails, grasping harder still onto the sides of the table, pressing his face into the pillow, muffling the sounds as much as he can. Luke can’t hear this, he thinks distantly, he can’t know, and so he tries–

His body jerks, and he tries to still himself but he’s on fire, an unbearable kind of pain that he can’t count through and he can’t think through. From next to him, one of the handlers pries his fingers off of the table, and the feeling of unyielding metal is replaced by warm skin and he knows someone is petting his hair and someone is holding his hand and maybe, somewhere lower, someone is holding him still against the table, but he can’t process anything beyond the pain.

✥ ✥ ✥

For a split second, they make eye contact. Handler Michael Lowell instantly realizes that he might not have the stomach for this job anymore; the boy has him in a bone-crushing death-grip, and all he can do is stare at him as the doctor pushes the needle the rest of the way in, and the screaming chokes off. Leo muffles his own cries against the thin pillow beneath his head. Beads of sweat drip down his neck, skin patched in red, veins and muscles straining against the intensity of his suffering.

“I know,” the doctor says, drawing the plunger up. It’s a slow process, and Michael isn’t positive if they’re intentionally torturing this kid or if it’s incidental. Sixteen years on the job and he’s seen a lot of shit, but as the doctor says, “Almost done,” he struggles to parse out what’s what.

Leo convulses on the table. Guttural sounds claw their way out from somewhere deep inside of him and honestly, you’d think they were fucking killing him, and it was entirely possible that they were.

“I know,” the doctor coos almost; it doesn’t help. His grip doesn’t let up, his shaking doesn’t let up, and his body’s taking on a kind of clammy-cold situation that doesn’t seem like it’s a good sign. Michael assumes the doc is aware of all three of these things, but none of them seem to be alarming to her.

It’s only a matter of minutes, but it feels like fucking hours. His free hand is on Leo’s neck, half-restraining, half-comforting. He’s gone soft in his age. 

He can feel Leo trying to lift himself up, trying to pull his arm back to get it under him, but he keeps him pinned, and tells him, more gently than he’s used to, “Uh-uh. Hold still.”

If he were at one of the training sites, they’d just knock him out. He isn’t sure why they didn’t, but it probably has something to do with something. He’s not asking and no one’s telling him. 

“Almost there,” the doctor says again, and then, without fucking fanfare, she pulls the needle out, and she’s pressing a bandage into the spot where the needle was, which immediately turns red. Michael looks away. 

Almost instantly, though, Leo starts gagging, and this time, Michael lets him pull his hand free. He wedges it under him, leveraging his head and chest off the table. Leo retches in between cries, but with the worst over, his body’s losing steam. His breaths are ragged, the tension in his muscles begins to let up and Michael wonders if he’ll pass out. He hopes he does, and then berates himself for going soft again.

That’s when the shaking starts. Michael takes a washcloth, wiping first his face, then his neck and the parts of his chest that are visible, the spots of the table he has access to. The doc puts something into the IV, all the while Leo trying to catch his breath, tremors rolling through every inch of him. His weight has dropped back to the table, and he presses his forehead into his arm. His sobs are lighter now, his breaths deeper, but still patchy as hell.

“All done,” the doc says, like it was easy peasy. Michael’s certain Leo doesn’t hear her. And then, to Michael, she says, “Make sure he’s cleaned up and completely calm before you let Mr. Bennett see him. Try to get him to drink something when he’s ready.” Michael is pretty fucking sure being a nurse isn’t in his actual job description, and he doesn’t know exactly how to get Leo calm and clean in the next seven fucking minutes before his shift ends, but that’s someone else’s problem. He’s been traumatized enough for one day. 

The doc bandages Leo’s back, then pulls off her gloves, giving Leo’s shoulder a squeeze as she leaves. It’s condescending as hell, but he thinks maybe Leo’s on someone’s bad side to begin with, because he’s no doctor, but that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Michael makes eye contact with the other handler, who’s been equally silent up until now, and gets to work.

✥ ✥ ✥

Luke is ushered back into the exam room two hours after he left. The handler walks him as far as the door, tells him to take his time, and to let them know if anything is needed. He shakes his head and bee-lines to Leo’s bedside.

Leo is curled up under a thin blanket; his skin’s pale, but he looks alright. The IV has been removed, there’s a cup of water on the tray table beside him. 

“Hey, buddy,” Luke says, by way of greeting. Slowly, Leo’s eyes open to meet his, and he smiles, the sad tell-tale smile that exudes exhaustion and sadness and anxiety. He looks him over; nothing overtly ringing any alarm bells, but he doesn’t trust these people.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Luke whispers. Leo’s eyes are red but focused, and he moves to sit up as soon as Luke says the words. “Keep resting for a minute,” Luke says, but Leo pushes up anyway. “I need to go talk to the doctor, and then we’ll be out, okay?”

He waits for Leo to respond, searching his eyes for signs of clarity or understanding or acknowledgement. Just when he thinks he won’t get anything, that maybe the drugs haven’t worn off completely, Leo whispers, “Please don’t l-leave me.” And then, a moment later, he adds, “Please don’t leave me here alone.” 

Luke swallows painfully and kneels next to him. 

“No one’s going to touch you, buddy,” he whispers. “I need to get the discharge papers signed, and then we can go, okay?” 

“Can I come with you?” Leo says then, looking up at him. Luke’s breath catches. Leo’s voice is hoarse, and as he sits, he winces. Luke looks around the exam room, empty now except for the two of them, cleared of all evidence of what happened. He feels rage bubbling up inside him, but he tries to talk himself down. They need to get out of here.  

“Can you walk?” Luke asks, and Leo nods. He stands, slowly, and they make their way to the reception desk, where Leo finds a chair by the door. 

Luke is ushered into a small room off to the side and Leo, once again alone, pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around them. He buries his face between his knees. Luke will be back for him. Luke will be quick. Luke knows he’s upset, and won’t make this long.

After a few minutes, Leo hears shouting, his eyes snapping up to the door that Luke disappeared behind. The receptionist exchanges a look with him and smiles, shaking her head. Leo’s gaze once more shifts to the window. He can see Luke’s car, and he wishes Luke trusted him enough to leave him the keys so he could wait outside. He feels the receptionist staring at him, and he turns away. Luke will be done soon, and he can go back to his bedroom and his books and his lion and he can crawl under the blankets and sleep, and when he wakes up, he will feel better. 

He daydreams about it while he waits, and eventually, the door opens, and a stony-faced Luke emerges quickly. 

✥ ✥ ✥

“Are you ready?” Luke asks, injecting the most casual-calm into his voice that he possibly can. Behind him, he hears the doctor close the door. In the window, he can see her reflection, arms crossed over her chest, leaning casually against the reception desk.

As they make their way to the door, in an act designed purely to spite him, the doctor calls to Leo, “Be good, Leo,” and Luke freezes, itching for violence but ever aware of at what cost that would come. Instead, he turns to her. He commits her face, her name, her voice, to his memory, so he can fuck up her life later.

He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but when it comes time to try the guilty for crimes against humanity, her name will be among the top on his list.

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[the-daily-dreamer]

A lot of people say that Aemond not wanting to kill Luke doesn't make any sense.

I would like to know what you think about it since you always have good arguments. 💚

Aww thank you so much!

Ok. So I’ve seen the argument that it makes no sense that Aemond wouldn’t want to kill Lucerys and also that Aemond should have known better when pursuing him so he must’ve been ok with the death.

Personally, I really don’t think Aemond wanted to kill Luc. I mean look at this reaction.

That is an OH SHIT look. It’s clearly unintentional and not what he wanted to do.

However, I also don’t think it’s a bad writing choice that Aemond didn’t want to kill Luc. I think that it’s actually very in character for Aemond based on his characterization this far in the series and also his history.

See, we need to recognize a few main facets about Aemond in order to attempt to understand his motivations and intentions. 1) He is usually the calmer, more rational, and more reliable of the two brothers. 2) He underwent a serious trauma as a child and was bullied (by Lucerys no less). 3) He has a habit of doing ballsy and poorly thought out things as a way to feel superior, more specifically when he’s in an environment where he feels inferior or his trauma is brought up.

And it’s these three points interconnected that all play into why I think it’s perfectly in character for Aemond to not want to have killed Luc.

Aemond’s behavior in normal circumstances is to not create problems like his brother. He doesn’t sneak out or sleep around. He studies and trains. And his mother clearly sees him as the most reliable of all her children. Taking this into account, I don’t think Aemond would want to murder Luc because it would DEFINITELY create problems, especially with a potential war brewing. It just doesn’t fit the character motivations we’ve seen this far to intentionally murder Luc. And that’s why I genuinely don’t think he would.

However, there have been scenes where Aemond does act out. And those scenes are what people use as proof that he would want to kill Luc and why the writing choice is bad. For example, the fight scene when he loses his eye, the toast scene, and most especially, the storm’s end scene before the murder.

All these scenes show a harsher, though rare, side to Aemond. A side of him that is willing to push buttons and intimidate others. But where does this behavior come from?

That’s where the bullying and trauma comes in. Every scene that we see Aemond lash out in has some relation to his mistreatment in the past. The fight scene is his first time feeling powerful in comparison his bullies (the strong boys), and then he only reacts harshly and violently when he his first provoked by them. The toast scene is in direct response to Luc laughing at the pig (a callback to the bullying Aemond faced from the Strongs and Aegon). And the scene at Storm’s End is him seeing Luc again after the dinner.

In all these instances, Aemond is confronted by traumas he has experienced or one of the abusers who did them. He clearly hasn’t handled his trauma the best because he lashes out when confronted with his past. And thus, his reactions tend to aim for making him feel stronger and more powerful than the people who hurt him and made him feel small and inferior.

When he is in the fight scene, he finally has confidence and feels powerful. So when attacked by his bullies, he calls them bastards and threatens them. It makes him feel better to finally overpower them after years of torment. In the toast scene, he has a direct callback to his bullying and clearly no remorse from the boy who stabbed his eye out. He can’t be violent because of the company at the table, so he implies the bastard status of the boys. A subtle way to bring them down and make himself feel big again. In Storm’s End, he finally doesn’t have his mother or any family to stop him, so when Luc appears and he feels that inferiority creep in again, he lashes out and tries to scare and intimidate Luc so he feels better again.

What I’m trying to get at is that after years of torment and being made to feel small and unimportant, Aemond reacts to being confronted with his trauma by trying to reassert himself as better and more powerful and bring his bullies down.

This all culminates in the scene where Luc dies. When Aemond is riding Vhagar, chasing Luc down he’s on top of the world.

He’s laughing and smiling and taunting. He feels powerful and dangerous and is reveling in the fact that the boy who mutilated him is scared shitless of him.

Would he have taken Luc’s eye? Possibly. I wouldn’t be shocked if he genuinely had that intent. But I think his main goal was to scare Luc. To shrink him down and make him feel small, the way he felt as a child being bullied and losing an eye. I don’t think murder is on his mind. It’s superiority. Fighting away the pain he had as a kid.

Genuinely, I don’t think that Aemond not wanting to kill Luc is poorly written. It’s perfectly in character (as far as I’m concerned) for it to be an accident. Aemond is not the type to plan on murdering Luc, based on his usually rational behavior. But, Aemond is also a traumatized kid on the inside and he lashes out. When confronted with his trauma and having Luc there, he responded the way he always does and tried to scare Luc to feel powerful and better about himself. Unfortunately, he didn’t think through that his actions could have far deadlier consequences than he intended. And that’s why he’s so shocked.