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thewriterwithnoplan · 3 months

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THE TRAITOR'S SOULMATE (2/2)

Summary: Humans once had four legs, four arms, two heads, and two hearts. For humanity's hubris, Zeus struck them in two. You and Luke Castellan are determined to find your way back to each other, but before that can happen, there are things the two of you need to do.

[Part 2 to The Hero's Soulmate]

Soulmate AU: You meet the future version of your soulmate.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word Count: 7378

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, I use the spelling 'mom' because the series is American but I - and I cannot stress this enough - am not American, she a long one.

A/N: I've loved reading your comments, thank you so much for all the support in part one. I hope you enjoy, because we all deserve a little Luke Castellan every now and then!

Masterlist

Amphitrite had been gifted a premonition and the world was all the worse for it. The dream had come from Apollo or perhaps the Oneiroi or whatever great heart pumped blood and Gods and monsters out into the world.

It did not matter to the Goddess from whom the vision came, for in this dream Amphitrite had watched her husband fall in love and sire a child to a mortal paramour. A precious boy that Poseidon might even one day love, with a taste for the colour blue and a heroism that would grow to rival his namesake. And for the Queen of the Seas, that simply would not do.

It would not be the child’s nor his mortal mother’s fault – she was not Hera after all – and so she would have to punish her husband for the blame would be his. But how was one to punish a King among Gods before his crime even came to be? Why to beat him at his own game, of course.

So, Amphitrite set out to sire her own demigod with the mortal man her husband would hate most. A devout catholic.

Amphitrite stayed with her mortal lover and their half-blood daughter until the girl was all but five. Far longer than the greater Gods were wont to spend with their offspring. But what a precious babe she had bourn and what a traitorous husband she had back home.

But fate and prophecies and soulmates were such funny things. Inciting chaos. Inviting paradox. Introducing dangers untold.

It took Amphitrite all those years – though seemingly short in her immortality – to realise her fatal error. She had been the one to leave Poseidon. She had been the one to sire a child. She had been the one to drive her husband to the surface and his mortal. And so, the blame was hers to shoulder.

Amphitrite decided that she would be a self-fulfilling prophecy no longer. It was time to venture back below the surface.

In a last fit of guilt, she bestowed her first and final act of mercy unto her mortal lover. She told him everything.

When finally, she had gone back to the sea to reconcile with her husband, the catholic man took his turn to bestow his first and final act of mercy unto his young demigod child.

Against all the teachings of his faith. He abandoned his young daughter at Half-Blood Hill. And let the devil-spawn keep her life.

The Spirit of the Hudson River never did learn to like you. You with your greedy hands, snatching debris from its murky waters. You and your strange sea creature friends who would not dare brave such pollution were it not for your presence. Your pile of war spoils tossed aside like children’s toys. Your strange little bubble of air on the sandy floor of the river, where you stowed your treasures and slept bracketed by water. Were it not for the pollution that slopped against the edge of the river as if it were trying to escape you, the Hudson River Spirit might have chased you and your sea friends and your collection of trinkets out of his waters. But as it were, you made a strangely amicable tenant for a demigod. So, as long as you paid your dues the spirit let you keep your little underwater oasis.

For your first years living there, you made your way in New York City by selling lost things dredged from your river home. Bikes and old weaponry and tarnished jewellery and buckets of coins from across the world. You were careful and you coveted your few precious belongings, but with the rivers bounty, you rarely went hungry.

By the time you were fourteen, you found you could venture further into the city without as many questions. You had met an odd assortment of people whilst selling the lost and unloved things of the river; all who knew someone, who knew someone, who needed another set of hands and so you offered yours. You babysat and cleaned, worked in delis and sandwich shops, helped old women with their groceries and young families mend their clothes. A retired teacher gifted you packets of schoolwork and with little else to fill your hours under the river you took to learning. Your numbers came easier than letters and reading always gave you a hard time but the activities she gave you each time you tended to her balcony garden gave you something to do when the sounds of the city kept you up at night.

All the while you followed Percy Jackson from the recesses of the Hudson. Shuffling your little bubble and its blessedly dry treasures up and then back down the river as he was bounced listlessly from school to school. Watching over him as the mythosphere tried desperately to barge into his little mortal life. Feral harpies that tried to snatch him into the air, great snakes that tried to sneak through air vents and all manner of underworld-born sea creatures that sought to pull him below. You had wrestled and dismembered and slayed them all. Adding their feathers and scales and great weapons to your dragons-hoard.

You were sixteen when you finally knocked on Sally Jackson’s door to introduce yourself. You had spent weeks working yourself up to it, planning your outfit and then fussing over each piece. All your clothes had been gifts and were often a size too big or printed with some generic tagline like Spread peace not hate!; or made entirely from yarn that the old woman whose meals you prepped at the start of each week had gifted you after she had taught you how to crochet; or like the dress you wore now, were sown together from thrifted fabric scraps and embellished with pretty shells and baroque pearls. You had planned the time you would arrive down to the minute so that her oppressive husband would be out, but the hour would not be so late as to make an unexpected visit threatening. You had planned to keep Percy safe while you were away from him by entrusting your friends Clarence the Crab and Emily the Squid to supervise him for the evening.

What you had not planned for was the possibility that Sally Jackson would be the most lovely woman you had ever met. You had been struck dumb by it the moment she opened her door and greeted you with a kind smile. Couldn’t your mother have chosen a mortal as gentle as she to be your parent? Alas, the Gods had never done a thing for you.

“Can I help you, lovely?”

You tried not to burst into tears as you asked, “Mrs. Jackson?”

“Are you alright?” She opened the door wider, leant out and scanned the corridor behind you. “Is there something you need?”

“No ma’am. I’m here about your son, Percy. His father sent me.” A good ambiguous statement that would pique her curiosity but let on nothing about the Gods. Allowing you to spin your tale – that you were Percy’s long-lost step-sister, come to reconnect.

“Poseidon?” Alas, the Gods had truly never done a thing for you. “Is something wrong? Is Percy, okay?”

“He’s fine Mrs. Jackson, I’ve been keeping him safe.”

She scanned the hall behind you once more, “You best come in.”

Over a cup of tea, you told Sally Jackson everything.

You liked your home under the river. For lack of a better term, it allowed you to remain liquid. You could follow Percy wherever trouble took him. You could stay up until the city grew quiet for that brief moment before dawn. You could train with the Hudson River Spirit, even if he only entertained you because he enjoyed winning.

You liked your bed made out of stacked wood pallets and a mountain of blankets. You liked your wooden chest of draws stuffed full of trinkets and weapons and the precious few items you owned. You liked this place that you had carved out with your own two hands.

But you also liked your home in the Jackson household. Where there was always music playing. Where it was always warm and dry. Where there would always be some blue-ified food in the oven or blue candy in the mason jars by the sink.

It became your job in the summers to babysit Percy, to keep him away from Gabe and from danger while entertaining his endless need for motion. You took him to art galleries (which he hated) and aquariums (which he loved), to craft fairs (which he tolerated because he liked the things you made) and swimming pools (which he only liked when he won your swimming races).

“What even is a soulmate?” Percy had asked you one day at the park.

“The person with the other half of your soul,” You scrunched your nose up, “Or well, that's what people say.”

“You’re saying I’ve been walking around with half a soul?”

“I didn’t say I believed them,” You rattled your water bottle in front of his face until he took it. “Stay hydrated.”

He frowned at you, “You don’t believe in soulmates?”

“Of course I do, but it's a little more complicated than that, kid.” You took the water bottle back and played with the cap for a moment while you thought. “Think of it like this. You can have two different puzzles that are cut the same way, right? So all the pieces from one will fit with all the pieces from the other. But that doesn’t mean they belong together, the picture doesn’t come out quite right because even though the pieces fit, they don’t necessarily belong to the same puzzle. Maybe that’s what it was like for your mom, like she couldn’t find the pieces that made up her picture and so she went with the ones that fit at the time.”

“You don’t think my mom and dad were soulmates?”

“I never met your father.”

“But he’s your dad too.”

“He’s my mom’s husband. Maybe my mom and dad are soulmates.” Percy didn’t seem to like that answer. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe your mom and my mom each have pieces that fit into your dad's puzzle but neither match his picture, or both. Maybe his picture is a year with your mom and a lifetime with mine and having you. Maybe he needs to collect all those little pieces at the right time when they’re the right shape or he’ll end up with a completely different picture at the end.”

“I kind of understand.” But he gave you a look that said he probably didn’t. “What picture are you making?”

You hid your smile behind the lip of your water bottle, “My soulmates about yay-high, pretty as a magazine cover with dimples and all. I’m collecting my puzzle pieces with you and your mom and this city so that I’ll have half of his picture.”

“If you know who he is, why don’t you just go find him now?”

“Still looking for some pieces, I guess.” You kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “Souls are fragile. If you go rushing in and trying to jam the pieces in when they’re not shaped right just yet you could damage them.”

“What happens if you do that?”

“It’s probably harder to find each other in the next life. You’ll chip pieces away and your souls won’t fit right.” You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan and pulled out a sandwich, you gave Percy the bigger half.

“Who taught you all this?”

“My mom used to tell me and well, I've thought about it a lot.” You tugged Percy by the back of his shirt so he didn't go stomping through a puddle, he glared. “But anyway, some people think it’s just fate. That you find your soulmate no matter what and it’s a perfect fit either way.”

“It would be easier that way.”

“Sometimes that’s just not how the story goes, kid.”

Percy thought that was the most important thing anyone had ever taught him, but he figured some of the other stuff you taught him came in handy too. You taught him the tricks you learned to work around your dyslexia. You taught him to skip stones and to not throw rocks at seagulls. You taught him to flip off the Empire State Building but only when his mom wasn’t around. You taught him to knit and do a cartwheel and make a good cup of tea to take his mother in the morning. You taught him to chew with his mouth shut and to sword fight with wrapping paper rolls. You taught him to braid hair and throw a punch and say all the swears in Ancient Greek.

And then one day, a Satyr came for Percy Jackson, and there was nothing left for you to teach.

You wrote Sally a brief letter of warning, picked your way through seven years’ worth of belongings and collapsed your life into a backpack. You said goodbye to Clarence and Emily with a brief promise to visit, pushed a final wave of pollution from the waters and thanked the Hudson River Spirit for his hospitality. He gifted you sixteen perfect round pearls and insisted that he never wanted to see you again. You spent the bus ride to Long Island threading them into a necklace made of fishing wire, tying off each pearl with your teeth.

It was a tentative tradition between demigod soulmates to exchange gifts upon their first meeting. So few and far between were the possessions of a half-blood that even the smallest bauble would likely mean the world. The practice had died out some over the centuries as the Gods received fewer offerings from mortals and turned to their children for sacrifices. Gift-giving to your soulmate as a demigod became all but synonymous with spitting at the feet of the divine and loudly proclaiming you would make offerings to your soulmate instead. A pearl necklace would be an excellent final addition to the collection of small gifts you had assembled over the years. Let the Gods weep at your feet and beg for scraps if they needed them so much, you would ignore them just as they had ignored you.

You arrived at Camp far sooner than you might have liked, a few hours past mid-day when hopefully the rest of your ilk would be occupied with meaneal chores and activities. You considered waiting at the crest of the hill for someone to notice you only to find a pine tree planted firmly at its peak where you might have stood. Instead, you make the alarmingly easy trek down to the Big House.

“Chiron!” He had always been your favourite of the two men, currently sat on the porch drinking juice and playing cards.

“Yes, my girl?” He barely spared you a glance as he shuffled his cards between his weathered hands. He stilled for a moment and then tossed his head back in the way a horse might toss its mane. “My dear!”

You raised a hand, halfway between a salute and a wave, “Nice to know I haven’t been totally forgotten.”

“Au contraire.” Mr. D stuck his nose up at you. “Which one are you again?”

“The little one that went missing some seven years ago,” Chiron stood as you climbed the stairs onto the porch. “How are you, my dear? Where have you been?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Yancy Academy?”

Mr. D’s eyes turned sharp in the way that had once made your friends whisper that some days, he was more maniac than man , “And how do you know about that little girl?”

“Percy Jackson is at Yancy,” You smiled at him, all teeth, “How did you think he survived long enough for your baby satyr to find him?”

“You have been protecting young demi-gods?” Chiron asked wearily.

“Percy Jackson is a full-time job, I’m afraid,” You tugged at the strap of your backpack, praying you could keep control of the conversation. You had a lot of time under the river to think and this was one of many things you had spent countless hours mulling over. Weighing and considering what story you would tell them – to tell the truth of both your parentage and put Percy in harm's way or to lie and balance your life on its sharp edge. “I found him in Manhattan, he was like a magnet for mythological activity. By the time I’d had enough of rebelling and wanted to come back to camp, I was protecting him from attacks every other week. He wouldn’t have lasted a month. I came back as soon as I could.”

No matter how many times you played it out in your head, the lies won every time.

“Kids.” Mr. D threw back the last of his juice.

“Perhaps you should settle back into the Hermes Cabin, dear.” Chiron smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes pinched, “You’ve given myself and Mr. D much to talk about. We’ll settle the issue of your paperwork tomorrow.”

“Of course.” You rustled through your bag, digging up a palm sized statuette that you set onto the table. “Before I forget, I brought you a gift Mr. D.”

“A toy,” He snatched it up. “Oh joy.”

“It’s you, as the mortals’ see you. It’s from the gift shop at the Met.”

“How kind of you, my dear.” Chiron softened, and you watched as even Mr. D’s temper seemed to ease, his hands gentle around the gift as he admired it.

An unseeing piece of plastic for the God who served as no more than a silent observer over the affairs of the camp. Let him choke on his ego, you thought as you left the pair to their discussion.

Cabin 11 was blessedly empty when you entered, but your old bunk was not. A pile of clothes was thrown haphazardly across the bedspread. You snatched a sleeping bag and a lumpy pillow from the storage closet and threw them down with your bag. If you could not have the bunk that had been yours at twelve, you would claim the corner that had been yours at five. As you shook out the sleeping bag and pulled out your belongings, you tried not to think of your bed of blankets under the river or Sally Jackson’s couch.

Instead you turned your mind to the Big House and the conversation that was no doubt happening within.

You had constructed a perfect image, if you did say so yourself. Grown in ways Mr. D could not have predicted but Chiron would insist he had foreseen. Still a rebellious young woman in the mortal sense, with your scuffed leather boots and ripped jeans. But the parts that had screamed ‘insubordination’ to the Gods were neatly tucked away. Your twin knives strapped to your forearms under the billowing sleeves of your crocheted top, your vicious tongue caged behind a sweet grin, your once sharp stare softened at the edges.

Once you had fashioned yourself so that the Gods could not paint you as a hero, now you fashioned yourself so that they might forget you were an enemy.

Let Chiron think you were a misunderstood wayward girl scout come home from her self-imposed quest. Let Mr. D think you were a stupid girl who had seen the world beyond the Gods’ protection and finally accepted that you needed them. Let them all think wrong. You had left to protect your brother and returned for one reason only.

“You’re here.”

You turned, and there he was, “Luke Castellan.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, limbs jerking slightly as if he wasn’t sure whether to move toward you or stay put. He was almost certain you could hear the way his pulse was racing, his heartbeat clanging wildly in his chest as he searched desperately for a suave reply, but everything else seemed lack lustre when you said his name like that.

Your face twisted into something like anger and for a moment he thought he’d messed it all up before your lips curled and you practically spat, “I do like your scar.”

And then he was laughing at you, wild and bewildered and not the least bit contained. Before long you were laughing too, neither of you quite sure what was funny, just so wholly relieved as your chests were flooded with wonder and warmth.

It felt like fireworks and popping candy. Just as he had promised all those years ago. You resisted the urge to throw up on his Converse.

You might have been crying and he might been too but you weren’t exactly sure because one moment you were both laughing at nothing and the next he was on the floor with you. He held you like he had never held a single thing in his life, like he was lost at sea and you were the only solid thing for miles. He tucked your head under his chin and sucked in great forced breaths that you could feel beneath your cheek. Because he was warm and there and real. And that meant the last seven years, the better part of your life, hadn’t been for nothing.

You and Luke make your way to dinner side by side. You had spent the afternoon rambling about your lives, about your meetings with your future selves, about your home under the river, about his responsibilities as a camp counsellor and yours as your brother’s keeper. He told you about Annabeth and Thalia and the rest of his siblings, you told him about your parents and Sally Jackson and your sea friends. You gave him his necklace which he lets you fix in place at the base of his throat – you do not spend a moment too long running your hand up the back of his neck and through his curls.

He had been almost bashful when he gifted you a watch that matched his, inlaid with twin fragments of mother of pearl taken from the same shell – kind of like your soul had been, he had said. You swear you’ve never owned anything as precious. You let him strap it to your wrist as he tells you about spending a summer diving for it in the lake. And then softly, tentatively, he tells you about his quest.

Luke could have cried from the way you were looking at him alone, so very gently, like you could cradle him with your gaze alone. At a loss for words, you simply whispered, “I am so proud of you.”

His grip is iron-clad and you tell your next story with your face pressed into the side of his neck, pretending you can’t feel him shaking softly.

When you make your way to dinner you’re both glowing with the soft exhaustion of emotion. You all but lean against one another as you collect your goblets and fill your plates.

The other campers steer clear of you, content to leave Luke to chauffeuring the new kid around. You count yourself lucky, it was only a matter of time until one of the older campers recognised you.

You were almost to the end of the Hermes table – that perfect spot at the end where you might just have a chance of holding a private conversation after dinner – when Chiron interrupted you.

“Mr. Castellan, I see you’ve acquainted yourself with our newly returned camper.”

“That’s my job, sir.” You tried not to stare at the crooked smile he flashed the centaur.

“Perhaps you ought to show her how to make an offering,” Chiron says pointedly, “She’s been away for a long time, and it’s your responsibility to treat her as you would any other incoming Camper.”

Luke turned to you, his boyish grin still charming but the mirth leaking out of his eyes, “Of course. Do you remember how it’s done?”

“I do. Just not a lot of food to be spared in the mortal world.”

You squinted, the corners of your mouth pulled up in what Chiron would likely mistake for sheepishness. But Luke could see it in your eyes. How your anger had made you pointy in all the places someone your age ought to be soft. He wondered how all the jagged edges of you would feel against all the jagged edges of him. He thought maybe if the two of you were careful, you could make something smooth as sea glass and twice as pretty, together.

You dump a clump of mashed potatoes into the fire with an unconcerned flick of your fork. Luke lops part of his own meal on top of yours, you glare enviously at the reasonable portion he had left on his plate. You hoped the food would burn at the bottom of the braiser.

“Sorry, sir.” You mocked Luke. He stuck his tongue at you once Chiron had turned his back.

You hurried to snag the seat at the end of his table, sliding into place across from each other. You flounder for a moment, wondering whether to draw your legs as far under your seat as they will go or bask in the gentle brush of his knee against his leg. You settle for the latter and try not to evaporate under his gaze, as he stares at you even as you start eating.

Luke realised he’d spent too long staring when you all but groaned, “Don’t tell me I have to sacrifice my dinner to you too.”

He flashed you a grin, then tried to say as nonchalantly as possible,“Is that why you left? So you could enjoy a proper meal every once and a while?”

You stared at him for a long while, “You, future you, told me to leave, to find my brother.”

“Why would I do that? If you had stayed at Camp–”

“That’s almost exactly what I said to you.” You pushed your food around as you stared at a point just beyond his head, he thought for a moment that he could see the neurons firing behind your eyes, like a hundred tiny zaps of lightning, “But I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And I think you were right to send me away.”

“I don’t think I’ll be hearing that very often.” He dodged the pea you fling at him with a grin.

“I think maybe if I don’t leave, I won’t become this me or do the things I’ve done and maybe that’s important for us or our future or some past you rewrote by telling me to leave.”

“Seems overly complicated.”

“I think it’s supposed to be complicated,” You couldn’t help but admire the quiet skill with which he wielded his cutlery, “If it were easy, we would find each other in every universe.”

He paused, knife aloft, “You don’t want to find each other in every universe?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” You speared a leaf of spinach onto your fork to hide your scowl behind as you said, “The Gods have made it this way to keep us separated.”

“We’re together now.”

“Which means they lost.”

Luke watched you for a drawn out heartbeat, then leaned over to transfer the perfect squares of meat he’d been cutting onto your plate.

You took a long moment to chew before you said, “So, your plan to send me after Percy worked.”

“I thought it was your plan.”

“I forgot to ask you whose plan it was.”

“I say it’s your plan.” He took a long pull from his goblet that left his lips tinted red.

“It doesn’t matter what you think.” You passed him a napkin before he could ask, “It’s what you will think.”

“Sure, Precious.” He smothers a laugh into the napkin at the way you scrunch your nose at him, “You know, because you're so protective of your food. Like Gollum with the ring.”

“That’s the stupidest explanation for a pet name I’ve ever heard.” But you’re damn near head down on the table as you laughed. “I definitely got the smarter half of our soul.”

“Then it was definitely your plan.”

You’ve still got a hand pressed to your face to conceal your smile when you say, “What about when I meet you? Any words of wisdom?”

“Try not to fall for me. I can tell you’re pretty charmed but it’s really not appropriate. I’m seventeen, and you’re what? Twenty-four?”

You launched your bread roll at him. You’re twice as incensed when he catches it whilst looking directly at you, “Asshole.”

“Smartass. See, two can play that game.”

Luke can’t help but think you’re just as pretty sneering as you are smiling, like no expression no matter how ugly could detract from your beauty. Maybe you’re like him, he scarcely dared to hope. Maybe you’re something better, another part of him whispered. The way you talk about the Gods and turn your nose up at them, and play their game only when it suits you.

You weren’t vengeful in the way he was. You weren’t the spitting vicious thing the Camp had liked to pretend you were when you weren’t around to prove otherwise. You were worse and better and everything he needed. You were a storm on the horizon, a snake coiled tight. You were better than just angry. You were disillusioned. Not a product of juvenile resentment but true wrath born of awareness. Not the wild foaming-at-the-mouth kind that he had imagined when he had first heard your name. But the dark carefully contained kind he had seen in the face you would grow into.

This, Luke thought, you were the start of everything.

It’s some weeks later when you stick your hands through the grating of the bunk above Luke as leverage to lean over him and croon, “Up and at ‘em, Pretty Boy.”

He pushed his face out of his pillow, curls sticking up at odd angles as he looked at you half-asleep, “What?”

“Remember? Training?”

“No,” He scrubbed sleep from his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Sickly.”

“I don’t think that was it.” He propped his head up on a fist as he smiled at you sleepily.

It was so disgustingly cute that you had to turn your back when you said, “Just meet me there.”

Luke’s freshly showered and holding an apple core when he deigns to join you in the forest. He tossed the apple at you and you caught it without thinking. You fake gag at him as you throw it further into the forest.

You wiped your hands against his shoulder as you say, “I’m not sure if an apple core counts but that was dangerously close to an Ancient Greek proposal, Castellan.”

“I got hungry.” He shrugged. You squared off across the clearing, stretching as you warmed yourselves up for the ensuing sparring match.

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Is this you rejecting me?” He landed an open hand on his chest and staggered backward. “You wound me, Precious!”

“Was that you proposing? Because I’m,” You wiped your hand again for good measure, scrunching your nose up, “Disgusted.”

“You would be honoured if I had just proposed to you.”

“You should be nicer to me.”

“And go easy on you just because you’re my soulmate? Unlikely.”

“Because, asshole, I’m the one who got you out of chores this morning, or have you forgotten already. You seemed rather grateful for your little sleep-in.”

He unsheathed his sword and twirled it round in his hand, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Like you weren’t ready to worship the ground I walk on when I told Chiron you needed to get my training up to speed.”

“Do you want me to tell you, you’re brilliant?” He pointed his sword toward you with that grin that made you want to hold him down just so you could admire it longer. “You’re brilliant.”

“You’re stalling.” You pull your knives out, one from your boot, the other from your belt. You miss your old clothes with their pretty sleeves and their personality, your camp shirt seems a poor trade in comparison.

“Stalling? Me?” Luke scoffed. “Never!”

“Don’t you have a counsellor meeting at half-past?”

“I do, so please don’t feel bad when you lose. I only have half an hour to wrap this up. You understand.”

“Who’s fault is that Mr. Just-five-more-minutes?”

He gasped in mock offence and lunged forward, his sword swinging at you in a great arch. You leapt back, out of his range, then ducked low and rushed toward him. Luke was quick, in a viciously smooth move he swept his sword at you again. You brought your knives together, bracing as the impact ricocheted up your arms. Admittedly, you were at a great disadvantage given that you were reluctant to throw a knife at Luke’s head – even though he’d demonstrated an impressive ability to swipe your wayward throws out of the air – and that he had an additional several feet of reach on you.

Luke feigned to the right, you lashed out at his left side and narrowly avoided his sword as it came down at you. He whistled slowly as both of you backed up to circle each other for a moment.

“You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that.”

And so the dance went on. Luke struck, you parried or slipped out of his blade's path with a flourish. You struck, Luke swung his sword and slipped around your blows. Finally, you found the chink in his precious armour. He fell back to his right foot when he deflected a blow. You jerked forward. You jabbed the knife clutched in your left hand toward him as you moved in with the right. Just as you hooked a foot around the back of his leg, Luke’s sword made contact with your left shoulder slicing through sleeve and skin. Luke fell backward with a sharp hiss, his sword flying to the side.

In the end you had laid him out flat in twenty minutes. Luke Castellan had spent the last seven years fighting to win. You had spent them fighting to survive. You supposed it didn’t hurt that the greatest swordsman to enter Camp Half-Blood in nearly three centuries was reluctant to let anything sharp or pointed anywhere near you. You secretly thought he might have been going easy on you for being his soulmate after all. You collapsed on the forest floor beside him, your chest heaving to draw in oxygen.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Luke huffed.

“Orange isn’t really my colour.”

He turned to you with a wink, “Oh but it is.”

You wave your hand through the air.

“I’ve gotten very good at putting broken things back together over the years.” He tried not to look at the line of stitching that ran from the ankle of your jeans to the rips at your knee. You tried not to look at his cheek. Instead you reached out and trailed your hands across his necklace where the pearls sat snuggly at the base of his throat.

“You’re wonderful.” He brushed his knuckles down your shoulder and they came away red. “Even covered in blood you’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You groaned, “Sweetness, you can’t just say–”

“You call me Sweetness when you visit me.” He whispered it like it was his greatest secret. You traced up his throat to his cheek and pressed your thumb into his dimpled cheek. “You’re still being wonderful. I can’t think when you’re–”

“Wonderful?”

“Okay, Smartass.” He sighed up at the sky, then pulled the both of you to your feet, “Enough lounging, we need to get that cut checked.”

You let him dust the dirt from you and resheath your knives, one in your boot, the other in your belt. Silently revelling in the gentle way he tugs you this way and that. You were well on your way to the infirmary, shoulders bumping and fingers just barely brushing, before he spoke again.

“Where does it come from? The nickname.”

“Sweetness?”

He looked away from you and squinted off into the distance, as if you were suddenly too bright to look at, “Yeah.”

“My mom used to tell me this story about meeting her soulmate. She probably meant Poseidon, but at the time I thought it was about my dad,” The back of Luke’s hand bumped into yours again, his fingers catching yours, his gaze resolutely ahead but you were definitely holding hands. “She said it felt like swallowing lightning and gorging yourself on popping candy. Like sweetness.”

“You like popping candy?”

“It’s my favourite.” You gave him a queer look as if to say, it’s not yours, you utter heathen?

Luke laughed at you all the way to the Apollo Cabin as he listed all the reasons it was the sub-par candy option. Nonetheless, when you emerge from the infirmary, he unloads a fistful of little packets he’d pinched from the candy bowl when the Apollo kids’ hadn’t been looking.

“Who has sub-par candy options now, Sweetness?” You teased, your mouth crackling merrily.

“Keep calling me that and you can have all the terrible candy you want.”

“Try some,” You shoved a packet toward him, because if he kept saying silly things like that and looking at you the way he was you were liable to do or say something equally as stupid. “You’ve got half my soul, maybe it’s our favourite.”

“I don’t think they had popping candy when we had one soul,” He flicks the packet held between your fingers. “And aren’t you the one who says we’re puzzle pieces not halves?”

“You have been listening to me!”

“Hard not to.”

“Asshole.” You flashed your teeth at him.

“Smartass.” He said, but the bite wasn’t there. He was watching you again, in that way he did sometimes before he said something stupid that made you want to throw yourself in the lake or run back to Manhattan or do something equally as stupid, like kiss him. “You–”

You twisted your hand in the front of his shirt and jerked him toward you, the little sachet crinkling in your fist. For a heartbeat, you were both silent, an inch away and staring as if you could will the other to be the one to press forward. But then he closed his eyes and Luke Castellan was kissing you. Like lightning and popping candy. With all the elegance of two lovestruck teenage fools and all the heat of two people who knew they had all the time in the world but still couldn’t bear to waste a second of it. His hand held you by the chin and then splayed lightly across your cheek and tucked hair softly behind your ear. You were only just reaching for the mess of curls at the back of his head when someone wolf whistles.

“My favourite.” Luke grinned, licked his lips and then turned. Hands stuffed in his pockets and a big stupid grin stretched across his face, as he shouted at you, “Stay out of trouble.”

You flip off the Aphrodite kid who’d whistled at you, and hurried back to the Apollo Cabin. You and Luke Castellan were going to need a lot more popping candy.

You’re in the lake, encased in an air bubble, sprawled out side by side with your backs against the sand, when Luke tells you what he’s done. That mere weeks before your arrival he had done the unthinkable. He had robbed the King of the Gods blind and betrayed half the Pantheon in doing so. You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry.

You had simply laid there, silently, for what had felt like aeons to Luke but maybe that had only been because he had to keep reminding himself not to hold his breath. He wasn’t drowning. You weren’t going to turn him in. He hadn’t just blown his whole plan and his life with his soulmate in one fell swoop. He just had to keep breathing and wait for you to say something. He thinks that maybe your mother had passed on some divine knack for diplomacy as Queen of the Sea with the way you seem to turn the issue of his betrayal over and over in your head.

After a while, you reach your arm toward the bubble and the sky. For a brief, terrifying moment, Luke thinks you’re going to pull the lake down on him. When you don’t Luke spends another infinite second wondering whether he would just let you do it.

He tosses the thought aside and focuses on the coin weaving between your knuckles. Like magic, it appears and disappears around the bends of your fingers but it wasn't real magic, just you fidgeting. He pressed his lips together and tried not to think about you at the bottom of the Hudson River, flipping your coin and turning over the issue of your soulmate and your brother and the camp you’d left behind. What is it you had said? You’d had plenty of time to think about those things.

Maybe that's what you need now – time. He’s about to offer it to you, offer to swim his way back to shore so you can think, even if he'd probably drown on the way. He’d give you all the time in the world if he had it.

But then you finally speak, the golden drachma rolling between your fingers, “If you hurt my brother, soulmate or not, I will kill you.”

“I am your soulmate.” He insisted as the implication made his skin itch.

“You are.” Your smile was so gentle it almost felt sad. “So you understand that my love for him comes before my hatred of the Gods. If you have put him in danger wit–”

“We get married.” He blurted. “We have a future. I woke you, when you visited me. That must mean I win.”

“It means, if that’s the path we’re even on, if those people are even the versions of us that we become… maybe you don’t hurt Percy.”

“I won’t.” He swore and you weren’t sure how to ignore the half of your soul that lies so sweetly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” You swallowed like you’d been chewing glass your whole life, and someone had finally offered you something substantial to sink your teeth into. “Maybe if we leave now, there’s a world in which I don’t have to pick between my blood and my soul.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment, “We could recruit him. You said it yourself, he’ll be more powerful than any of us.”

“He’s twelve.”

“He’s the son of Poseidon.”

“He’s twelve.”

“You were twelve when you left to protect him.”

“And look how that turned out,” Your grin was brittle, but he swore you were still the loveliest creature he’d ever laid eyes on. “I’m sat here planning to betray everything I was raised to follow.”

“You’re going to follow me?”

Your eyes traced the shape of his jaw, his nose, his scar. You looked pained, “I fear I would follow you into much worse, Luke Castellan.”

“I’m trying to lead you to something better.” He reached for your hand, took the drachma from your fingers, and pressed a slow, soft kiss to your palm. He smiled and there were dimples in his cheeks and tears in his eyes as he whispered, “We can try for better.”

“Leave Percy.” You pressed your fingers to his cheek, “Let him come to camp, let him join us when he’s ready.”

“You’re sure he’ll join us?”

“He will, I know it. We just need to let him see the Gods’ apathy for himself.” And you sighed. Luke wondered how many lifetimes your souls had seen, how many times you had searched for each other, how many times you had been torn apart. You sound ancient when you say, “You and I have seen more than enough.”

He turned his head and whispered in the scarce distance between you, “What do you propose?”

“We leave. As soon as anyone catches on, we take anyone who agrees with us and flee.” You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his knuckles firmly, “We can plot your revenge and plan my new world on the way.”

Luke feels ancient when he promises, “Okay, on the way then.”

But he swears, as you lean forward and kiss him, that no matter how many times you do it this lifetime or in all the lifetimes until this story – of you and Luke Castellan – became ancient, it would still never stop feeling like the first time.

Like lightning and popping candy.

Tag List:

@emelia07 @star611 @7s3ven @kissingyourgrl @myxticmoon @shermanno @moonsficrec @soleilgrec

#luke castellan x reader #soulmate au #luke castellan #pjo luke #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction

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xxxregulusblackxxx · 3 months

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So I'm obsessing over Hazbin Hotel like all of the internet right now, but I've been a fan since the pilot and am caught up on Helluva Boss. I have a few things to rant about here.

1. ALEX BRIGHAM AND HIS OBSESSION WITH DEMONS. He's Beetlejuice in the broadway musical, he's Fizzorolie or however you spell his name in Helluva boss, he's Sir Pentious and ADAM THEE GOD DAMNED ADAM THE FIRST MAN In Hazbin hotel.

2. Husks voice actor is Keith David aka DR. FACILIER IN THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG!

3. Jack Kelly from Newsies on Broadway, filmed and put on Disney plus, Varian from Tangled the Series is Played by Jeremy Jordan, now if you're a theater kid you know who he is, you'd also be interested in knowing that he's LUCIFER that's right Lucifer Morningstar THE DEVIL HIMSELF

4. HUSKERDUST. I love this ship. Yes they are romantic and Vizzy has confirmed they are a slowburn relationship so if Anyone who interacts with me says they're platonic or found family I will be sending you to hell yourself

5. Alastor, first off he's canonical Aro Ace, just so ya know. Secondly he's such a good manipulator that he's manipulating fans into thinking he's not trying to fuck over the hotel and that he's not a villain. Which he is but he's still lovable. ALSO Alastor is Creole, he may have been white passing when alive but he's Creole and from Louisiana (I love Louisiana born men, my obsession with Leo Knut is proof of that) So just keep that in mind when drawing him. The transatlantic voice is something he would have learned, it's called All American speech and was used in Radio and TV, that's his voice under the radio affect.

6. The V's. Love them and hate them. I absolutely loth Val but at the same time Vox's screen brightens when he's trying to get Valentino's attention and that's really cute

7. Lute's Voice Actress played Elphaba in Wicked and her part in You didn't know is the absolute best part ever.

And Remember they're all in hell for a reason Sir Pentious is the only one who's truly good out of the Sinners

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ruestheday · 9 days

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i haven’t been sober since 10am for 4/20 here’s some weed fueled batfam hcs

• tim smokes weed. i think he deserves it. as a treat

• dick bit people (in and out of custom) until he was like 13

• damian also bites people no one knows when he’ll stop

• tim was devastated when dick ran off to blüdhaven bc how was he supposed to stalk him now????

• the only thing stopping steph from completely dying her hair purple is she’d have to hide her hair when she’s spoiler but she looks cunty asf running around w her hair loose

• duke is one of the 7% of americans who thought chocolate milk comes from brown cows. he didn’t really think about it critically enough

• jason relates too much to olivia rodrigo songs it’s kinda embarrassing for him. deja vu comes on and he has an out of body experience

• barbara has seen every episode of south park and can tell you the episode based on a single clip

• cass really fucking likes spongebob to the horror of bruce who really fucking hates spongebob

• bruce uses gen z slang horribly wrong but no one will tell him

• alfred has met god

• dick and jason get their own robin photos confused

• damian couldn’t spell eloquently on one of his fifth grade spelling tests and refuses to ever say the word again

• dick is a stanley girl he has 4 different colors (heather blue, mist green, the target valentine’s day one he almost lost his life over, and lilac purple)

• barbara knows if princess diana’s death was an accident or not and she’s not telling the rest of us

• tim beat candy crush and emailed them begging for more levels and they told him no

• jason will only drink cold water

• cass learned what the word cunty meant and hasn’t stopped using it since but she says it in the most serious tone everytime

• steph is always thinking about the roman empire

• duke forgets he has super powers all the time. someone calls him a meta and he’s like “who???? me?????”

• jason makes fun of dick for being a stanley girl but secretly has a red one to keep his water cold in bc like i said he only drinks cold water

#don’t take any of these seriously #other than alfred’s #he has met god and god said he likes his cookies #trust me on this #batman #batman hc #jason todd #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dick grayson #robin #dcu #dc #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #tim drake #barbara gordon

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omgthatdress · 1 year

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Oh my god I hate Mattel so much.

They took the American Girl brand and gave it a lobotomy.

I was going to make a very very very very bad joke about one of the 90s girls getting an eating disorder after watching Britney Spears, BUT DECIDED AGAINST IT because eating disorders are something you don’t joke about, BUT. HERE’S THE THING.

Here’s the thing. Being a tween-to-teen-age girl in the late 90s early 2000s was BULLSHIT. You had 16-year-old Britney Spears singing “Hit me baby one more time” in her Lolita schoolgirl miniskirt and crop top showing off her perfectly flat abs, and then you went to school and had abstinence-only sex ed mandated by the evangelical right wing who gave out purity rings and told you that only sluts had sex before marriage. And then there was the issue of being a fat girl trying to find jeans that met her school’s dress code the days of low-rise jeans and belly button rings.

I ended up adoring Linkin Park because their music gave voice to the rage that I had inside of me because of all that. I wore men’s pants from Hot Topic not only because I thought they were cool, but they actually fucking fit and they covered my ass crack. I wore black because I didn’t fit in to the ultra-skinny, ultra cool kid Abercrombie aesthetic. And THAT is what growing up in the 90s and coming of age in the 2000s was like.

“Nicki Hoffman is a nine going on ten year old girl living in Seattle, Washington just before the year 2000 (the turn of the millennium). She is six minutes older than her fraternal twin sister, Isabel, but one inch shorter. Nicki prefers grunge, ska music, rock, alternative, and skating; she is the "grunge" to Isabel's glitter. She does not like eating raw fish and sushi; her father teases that they can's spell "finicky" without Nicki. She likes sour candy--the more sour, the better. She's known to be shy, to the point Isabel points this out; she initially doesn't have other friends than Isabel. She's very anxious about the Y2K problem and the risks and worries that have been circulating, so Isabel and her create a list to take her mind off her worries of things to do before New Year's.Her favorite color is purple, her favorite animal is a dog (she adopts her puppy, Blossom, as a Hanukkah gift), her favorite band is No Doubt, and her favorite show is The Powerpuff Girls (her favorite character being Blossom). She likes to snack on Wild Berry Pop tarts. She does not like her middle name, Pearl.The family is interfaith and celebrates both Hanukkah and Christmas. “

It’s a sterilized and dumbed-down version of growing up in the 90s, one where they only real problem facing girls is the y2k bug. It’s about the aesthetic but not the experience. Honestly the girls of today deserve to see that their moms had it difficult, too, and that the pressure to grow up incredibly quickly and be beautiful and flawless and instantly become a woman is nothing new, now it’s just on TikTok instead of MTV.

It’s the trap of nostalgia. Just because you were younger and not as aware of the issues going on in the world doesn’t mean the world was better.

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dpr-stay · 10 months

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Peaceful Future | B.C

Yipee! Accidental Second Chance Romance!

Anyways, I hope you all like it :) Sorry if there’s any punctuation errors, spell check changed between aus english and american english.

idol!Bang Chan X idol!Reader

WC: 3.3k

----

*gif not mine*

When the idea of going on an idol dating show was pitched to you by your CEO with multiple company investors who were the reason for your debut in the room with him, it had been hard to say no. Honestly, it was a thought that had never occurred to you even in your wildest deep dives into guilty pleasure fanfiction that often left you feeling guilty enough to not look fellow idols in the eyes for months.

I mean, to go on a random show just to make your group more popular was something you'd definitely do, but to go on a dating show? With another idol? Not something you were a hundred percent sure about. Could you really be blamed for not being on board right off the jump? But, alas, the weighted stares of many 60 year old men seem to be quite persuasive in your plight.

So if the show flopped or your group ended up receiving enough hate that the company decided to remove you, you honestly could not be blamed. It laid in the hands of the throes of peer pressure and the ridiculously persuasive power of "I'm your boss' boss."

So now, with your conscience cleared and panic only slowly setting in, standing in front of a giant, white, wooden door sitting at the end of a corridor filled with fake plants to create the illusion of boho and similarly packed with hidden cameras that aren't very well hidden, you were very unprepared.

You weren't a problematic idol nor had you had much beef with other idols, you'd say your record was quite clean. But what scared you was the person on the other side of the door. God forbid it was someone you might have accidentally offended or, even worse, one of the few idols who you actually disliked.

You weren't quite sure who else had signed up for the show, the many group chats you were in didn't reveal anything. The best you had was the members of your own group making fun of you and teasing you about finding true love. You'd laughed after the first joke but by the fiftieth time in one practice session, you'd snapped and told them all to stop joking and get to work.

That, of course, being the only part that was captured in one of your members impromptu lives. It had taken less than 30 minutes before there was two koreaboo articles speculating about if you were abusive and if you were going to be kicked from the group. A quick scroll through the comments on Naver revealed concerned fans wondering about the whole groups mental health and another scroll revealed people asking for you to be replaced and taken out of the company. Most of the comments on twitter were from people wondering about what made you so angry and the other half were talking about how hot you were when you were angry.

Maybe that was why they put you on this show, the thought gave you pause. Not only would the groups popularity increase but your reputation would change from snappy-mommy-meany to... well, something different.

Anyways, back to the present. The door loomed in front of you, the terribly hidden microphone amongst a vase of flowers on the table beside you captured your sigh before you hesitantly grabbed the door handle.

"Let's get this over with." You muttered to the ground. Maybe it was overkill but you needed to give something to the panel of random celebrities sitting on a couch that the show would undoubtedly hire. As such, you slowly turned the door handle and pushed the door open.

In the second it took you to take a step inside and look up, you heard an audible gasp.

A gasp you recognized. A gasp you had heard dramatized in reaction to horrible tv shows or one of your own terrible attempts at being cute.

When you did look up and your eyes met with brown ones, ones you realised were incredibly wide. Only when you had taken the door handle in your hand once again and slammed the door shut as you stepped out of the room did you register that your eyes were just as wide.

You took a second to pick your jaw up from where it hung open and steel yourself before opening the door again. Your reaction probably had the producers itching to figure out what caused it.

You can already see the editors hunched over their screens going through hours of award show footage to try and find glimpses of where you and him had interacted to even give a hint as to what gave you that reaction. Though hopefully, if you were as thorough as you hoped you were, they wouldn't find anything.

But there were more pressing issues such as the man sitting at a table laid out with candles and roses, sat on one of the two chairs with the other placed directly across from him. You could do this. You just have to not make it awkward which is, admittedly, easier said than done.

A sigh left your lips and you felt your chest decompress with it. Alright, this'll be fine.

The handle was taken in your grasp again and you opened the door and made eye contact with the man sitting at the table. You braced yourself and headed in. The few awkward steps you took inside the room were nothing on the tension permeating the room.

You knew him very well, and despite your current relationship with him, you were relieved it was someone you knew. However the relief you felt was not mirrored in his eyes. You'd always been able to read him from purely his eyes and you found that true now, even as much as you wished it the opposite.

When you'd first opened the door, his widened eyes very obviously conveyed shock. But, now that you'd stepped out and given both of you enough time to prepare yourselves for a reunion, you could see past the blank face he'd put on. His eyes still showed shock, which you supposed you mirrored, but they also showed resentment, curiosity, and ... was that fear?

You eventually made your way to the elaborately made table, not breaking eye-contact with the man. You laid your hand on the back of your chair and pulled it out, taking a seat. This action, of course, requiring you to move your eyes down.

Now sitting down at the table, the man in front of you cleared his throat. You moved your eyes up to his, narrowly capturing the small smirk on his face that disappeared as soon as you made eye contact again. A deep sigh left you. This is going to be a long dinner.

I mean, at least it's only a dinner. Thank god it wasn't a show of the past, such as We Got Married. If it was and you'd had to spend an extended amount of time with him, alone but not really alone, you wouldn't have been able to handle it. Not many people would be able to with their ex.

A rather forceful clearing of the throat sounded. That's the second time he's cleared his throat in a minute, he might need a tissue. Still, you focused back to where you were and the guy in front of you. The silence you maintained while making eye contact was lengthy and beginning to get on your nerves so you opened your mouth.

"Y-"

"W-"

You closed your mouth as did he. God, this was terrible. A raised hand from him gestured you to go first. You nodded and cleared your throat. Far out, you'd just ribbed on him for clearing his throat and here you were doing the same thing.

"You look happy to see me." It lacked the small amount of bite you had originally intended to put in your words and came out as timid. He quietly scoffed.

"Trust me, I'm thrilled." He returned the sarcasm back to you before continuing.

"Plus I'm not the one who left the room at the sight of me." If you weren't wrong, his words, which were spoken to point out the obvious tension between you two, were laced with an emotion akin to hurt. But what was he expecting, he'd been the one to break you two up. You slightly grimaced.

"Sorry about that, just wasn't expecting to see you." He lightly rolled his eyes. He'd gotten a lot better at masking his emotions but still wasn't able to hide completely. At least, not from you.

"Wasn't expecting it to be you either." He spoke. "D'you reckon they put us together because we're both Australian?" Chan mused after a pause. You leaned back in your seat and pondered it.

"Maybe." You concluded. "They got it pretty spot on though." Your words hung in the air, an unaddressed reference to nights spent curled up in each other's beds and dates taken in practice rooms. He straightened up in his seat, as if finally recalling your history.

You spent the awkward silence looking around the room. It was quite nice, the windows showing the busy night streets of Seoul from a ridiculously high floor. You didn't want to think about how much it cost to rent this huge room out.

It was completely void of furniture apart from plant pots that lined the three walls that weren't taken by the giant wall of windows and cameras on the walls that were definitely hidden very well in between the plants. The table had a nice white tablecloth and and the previously mentioned candles and roses. You played with the corner of the menu on the plate in front of you and mentally decided on what you'd get just in case this actually turned into a dinner service.

He cleared his throat once again (that was like fiftieth time, wasn't it?) and spoke to break the impenetrable silence that was established while you were looking around.

"Why are you doing this show?" That was not the question you'd thought he'd ask. Evidently, that was displayed as your head whipped to him, confusion written across your face.

You opened your mouth to speak again, prepared to list off that your company wanted you to clear your image and make your group more popular, not because you wanted to date someone famous because you were already very familiar with the trials and tribulations that came with dating another idol. And yet, nothing came out.

So, furrowing your eyebrows, you shot the question back to him.

"I could ask you the same thing, why are you here?" Chan clicked his tongue and he adjusted in his seat and looked around the room. He took a second before making eye contact again and responded.

"Avoiding the question?" He finally egged you instead of responding. You rolled your eyes and reached for one of the glasses on the table that was filled with water. You took a sip, feeling his eyes follow the movement of your hand and eventually the movement of your throat.

The glass was placed back on the table as you moved forward and placed your head on your palm, letting your elbow press into the table.

"C'mon Chan, I thought you were too busy for relationships." The bite that you had lacked in previous statements came back at full throttle. He swallowed and you felt a sense of smugness creep in at his discomfort.

"I've been given permission by the company to do this." You raised your eyebrows and he amended his statement.

"I mean, they were the ones to suggest it." You nodded as he leaned into the table. This gave you a second to analyse him. He looked as dapper as you remembered him and, in other circumstances, you would've spent a lot more time getting reacquainted with his looks.

Unfortunately, the present was not that time and you had a point to make.

"Do you really have enough time to do this?" You badgered. "I mean, you normally work 24/7, shouldn't you be getting back to that soon?" That was a little on the nose, you scolded yourself inside. Outside you were the perfect picture of composure, even as his eyes narrowed and his face reverted from the small sense of laidbackness he showed to being stony-faced.

"I didn't want to believe the rumours, but maybe now you do like telling people to get back to work instead of dragging them away from it." He laid out as he leaned back in his seat.

"Funny how time will do that to you." He shrugged as he met your eyes again, the blank expression he had on completely evaporating any chance you had of being able to get through the next hours unaffected.

Because, while you had been rude, bringing up the fact that he constantly blew you off while you were in a relationship in favour of work, he had been mean, bringing up your scandal and the fact that you had apparently been too much of a distraction from his work to tolerate which resulted in your breakup. You swallowed and didn't allow yourself to break eye contact.

"Yeah, funny that." You quietly responded to him, hoping that he wasn't able to read you as well as you were him. But that was a false hope and his expression softened a little and he released a breath. He paused a second before responding.

"That-... That was unwarranted. I'm sorry." He said and you let out a dry laugh.

"Nah, it's ok." You sighed before continuing. "I don't think it was unwarranted." A quick glance around the room alerted you to remember that yeah, you both were being filmed.

You locked back onto him, seeing him hesitate and then begin speaking again. "I really am sorry, for eve-"

"You know what? Let's just start over." You quickly cut in, not letting him finish what he was saying. His eyebrows drew together in confusion. His confused face was almost endearing, taking you back to when you used to beat him at board games. But it was pointless to recount that right now.

"Start over?" He questioned.

"Yep." You replied "Let's just- Let's forget everything that's ever happened and go into this as two people who've never met." You finished your statement and drew away from the table. He tilted his head to the side as you maintained eye contact.

You hoped your eyes conveyed a strong front and not the angst you were feeling on the inside. A brief glimpse of hurt passed through his eyes which had you confused until he coughed and shook his head.

"Sure." It almost seemed to be dragged out of him by the way he spat it out. You flinched before letting a small smile settle on your face and reaching out a hand.

"Hello." He glanced to your hand and then up at you as it to say 'Really?' But still, he sighed and extended his hand in like, resulting in a handshake.

"Hi. I'm Bangchan. Or Chris. I'm from a group called Stray Kids." He said while still shaking his hand which caused you to release a small laugh.

"You don't have to introduce yourself. I know your name." You placed a skeptical expression on your face before asking "You know mine right?" with mock sincerity.

He chuckled before saying "Yes, yes I do."

You retracted your hand from the handshake and he put his down to the table while you flourished yours beside your head.

"You already know my name so, just in case, I'll specify that I'm in a group called (G)I-DLE." While doing this, your eyes found the most exposed camera and shot it a thumbs up. Chan glanced back at the camera and shot it his signature grin before turning back to you.

"Ah, ah that's good to know. I seem to have forgotten." He said, sarcasm drenching the words as he spoke. You let out a laugh, lacking in the mirth you wish it contained. But, starting over. Hopefully that'll be achievable.

Chan glanced down at the menu and spoke to fill the comfortable silence. "You're going to get the Jjajangmyeon, right? Still your favourite, right?"

Start over, my ass.

But still, you smiled and nodded. "Same for you then? They don't have watermelon on the menu, sorry." Your last sentence was filled with fake-sympathy, to which he returned a petulant glare back before chuckling.

"What a shame! I've always loved watermelon." He said, over-enthusiastically.

You mockingly sighed and shrugged your shoulders. "I know right! Heart-breaking." You then pouted your lip very zealously before you both started laughing. It felt nice to share a laugh and act as though the past two years had never happened and as though he'd never shattered your heart and then never talked to you again.

But that was in the past, you'd been the one not even five minutes ago to suggest starting over. And, while you'd never suggest starting over and forgetting (the word left a bitter residue at the back of your throat) what had happened if not for the current circumstances of needing to be civil until the cameras turned off, after Chan's initial hesitance to start over he seemed happier to be able to move on and hold a conversation.

He opened his mouth, the sound of his lips parting drawing your attention back to him, and started to speak.

"Do you- D'ya still have-..." He hung his head down for a second as though to gather himself before starting his statement again.

"Do you still have the watermelon lip gloss?" He seemed to come back to himself after he finished the question and hurried to keep talking.

"It always looked really nice when I'd see it, and we were just talking about watermelon! So- uh yeah... so I was just wondering." You paused and did a quick check around the room. God, he was making this harder than it needed to be.

"I uhh- I burned it." You quickly responded while looking at anywhere than him. The silence in the room was prevalent and you refused to look at him.

The guttural laugh that escaped him sounded harshly against the walls and if it wasn't for the shocked look on his face at his reaction, you would've questioned if it was sarcastic. In turn, his face made you laugh and soon it divulged into you struggling to breath and him resting the full top half of his body against the table, his head buried in his arms. It was nice to sit here and laugh at both his and your ridiculousness.

When you finally risked a glance at him, snuffling the remaining giggles into your sleeve, you saw him wiping small tears from the corners of his eyes.

"In my defence," you started. "Soyeon said it would be cathartic."

"Was it?" He asked, trying to reel his laughter in.

"Mildly." You offered before you made eye contact again and you both launched into uncontrollable laughter.

The only thing that stopped you was the opening of the door which had you clearing your throat and straightening up as a man dressed as a waiter brought over two dishes which contained Jjajangmyeon. A silent reminder that you were probably already the most interesting couple this season.

He placed the dishes in front of you before making for the door. You spared a glance at Chan to find him already looking at you, and you shared a smile. A smile that was once again interrupted by the same waiter pouring both of you a glass of wine.

You waited until he left the room to start giggling again. Chan picked up his wine glass and held it in your direction. In turn, you picked yours up and clinked them together.

A cheers to a hopefully peaceful dinner. And future.

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan fanfiction #Idol!reader #this is my first attempt at writing pls be nice #LETS GO STRAY KIDS #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop x reader

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theology101 · 7 days

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Literally in the first episode of Fantasy High, I watched an arguement that I had several times with my conservative uncles. It boils down to “According to the main message of your faith, our Divinity accepts everyone who is good of heart and kind - hating people for any reason is antithetical.” Kristen was arguing positive points using her faith as a guide

Which like - im not a christian or religious anymore (raised southern baptists and decided that if God exists he’s cruel) but the immediate writing off of everyone who’s part of a Main Stream Religion as Problematic really pisses me off, ya know?

Like sure, Wolfsong has waterslides and snowball fight and a lot of entertainement during a major holiday and then everyone is trying to figure out how they’re evil ehen they’re just having fun. Hey, my former church (Prestonwood Baptist Church and Benttree Community church in Dallas Texas) i have met so may deeply devout and scripture oriented people who are so incredibly loving and giving that they are leagues above anyone else I know, and for Good Friday they still had a wayer slide cause that shit is fun. Some of the most hateful people I know ALSO use religion as an excuse.

I get that organized Religion can house a lot of hate and evil (im writing my thesis on American Fascism and evangelical faith is a big part) but so many people who are Religious are just good people? Like the basic morals of the Torah+Talmund, the Bible and the Qur’an are really positive? Half the catholic church is socialist?

It just speaks to the religious illiteracy in America. Helio isn’t bad - the racist worshippers who through ‘as above so below’ influence their god ARE bad. Brennan says the Harvestmen are a fringe Minority - newsflash, the KKK is a christian group and the majority of christians reject them and find their message to be a spit in the face to Jesus. Why would it be different in Fantasy High if its supposed to be a commentary? I think Helio chose Kristen because he wanted her to free him from the racist status quo (he was giving her spells for all of freshman year supporting her against Sol up until Spring break if not beyond)

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #saint kristen applebees #kristen fantasy high #kristen applebees #helio #i think Helio is a himbo #and his dad is a Monarch #galicaea literally murdered Cassanra and y’all root for her church to get redeemed but Sol and Helio? Evil and doomed to hell #it also shows a misunderstand of dnd ‘good’#the evil gods are the ones who send demon armies or try to destroy civilization #sol is a manipulative and stern bastard but when the Apocalypse comes #he’s probably gonna save us #dnd ‘good’ is different from our good

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warcrimecryptid · 5 months

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Terrorism is defined as “the unlawful use of violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.”

The IDF are colonizers and the IDF are terrorists.

Israel is a terrorist and apartheid state. They’ve been doing this shit for 75 goddamn years! So of course they’re backed by the OG colonizing terrorists; America, England, France, etc.

Now, I know that most of you know that Israel, America, England, France, etc. are colonizers and terrorists. I know that you know that. But the reason I’m spelling it out and posting it everywhere is because using that language against the people who made it is helpful.

The OG colonizers only really call oppressed people that fight back terrorists. They do this because it brainwashes their constituents into hating or being fearful of these minorities. They did it with the Iraqis and the IRA and the black panthers and so many others and now they’re doing it with Hamas. We describe them as being animalistic in their cruelty. We separate ourselves from them in our language. That’s what those in charge do. They create a sense of separation and then they let their followers do the rest. They lead us to the waters of bigotry and hatred and like the dumb horse we are, we drink.

And you wanna know something? I don’t blame these groups. I don’t hate them and I don’t blame them. You can only be oppressed and killed and raped and pillaged for so long before someone fights back!!!

So that’s why we need to call it like it is. If Hamas and the Black Panthers and the IRA were terrorists, then we need to blame the people that helped create them. We raped and pillaged and colonized in our pursuit of God and precious, finite resources. We caused these terrorists. We’re great at making them because we were the original blueprint.

I see so many people post about how Katniss was a hero but then they turn around and condemn Hamas or the Black Panthers. They’re only about that shit when it’s fiction. But make no mistake, if we continue to allow what has been happening, it won’t be fiction anymore.

This is a turning point for many people and a lot of Americans. We see what’s happening. We are watching Motaz and Bisan and Plestia and we see the truth. We see the truth and we see how badly the western countries are lying to us. Our governments may stand with Israel but the people stand with Palestine. We stand for a free Palestine.

NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE!

#from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free palestine #end the occupation #end the genocide #fuck netanyahu #fuck israel #fuck the colonizers #anti israel

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

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Part 3

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 2 🍂 Part 4

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Series warning: Bring in the angst, boys!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: My girl @keanureevesisbae is on FIRE, at 35k! I'm so proud! ❤️ And because she's on a roll, y'all have to suffer today. You're welcome!

Any and all mistakes are grass-fed and organic.

“No, Mattheijssen.” Could you spell it? Of course you could! They were the ones who couldn’t. Don’t say that out loud, you reminded yourself. “No, e-i-j-double s- e-n.” You said that the first time. And the second. “No, you’re right, it’s not an American name.” Fuck. Every. Single. Time. Finally, you hung up the phone after what seemed like an hour (it had been), completely ready to throw the phone through the window - which would have been easy, all these windows were single glazed – when you noticed a text from Sy.

Sy: How does 7 sound? You: Perfect!

Actually, 7 never sounded better. But you couldn’t tell him that. Alright, it is now… 5? Since when?! There is no way, text him back that 8 is better, you still have to shower. And then pick your outfit? Wash your hair? Is today wash day? When did you last wash your hair? Oh and makeup. And shave? Do you need to shave? Like, how necessary is shaving? Is… You really just stood there in the kitchen, panicking, wasting time – and then it hit you: you had a working kitchen sink, but not a working shower. You’d been showering at Jules’ place – or the gym, if you ever went – for weeks now…

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” you muttered under your breath as you paced through the kitchen, squeezing your phone so hard you thought it was going to break.

“Jules! Oh my god!”

“Did your house burn down, Lara?”

“Wha- no?”

“Then stop screaming in my ear?”

“Sorry. Eh… Can you come pick me up, like, right now? Sy’s going to be here at 7 and I don’t have a working shower…” You heard Julie sigh.

“You are calling about that driver’s license on Monday, okay?” You promised her that you absolutely would – it was quite annoying to not have a valid driver’s license yet, you missed the independence. And it was silly to have a car in the driveway that you weren’t allowed to use, that, too. She was at your house in record time – either she’d been halfway there or she ignored the speed limit the entire time. Knowing Jules, it was the latter. On your way back to her house you texted Sy.

You: This is embarrassing… I don’t have a working shower, so you’re gonna have to pick me up at J’s place… Sy: Promise to meet me outside, I can do without the third degree.

You and Julie laughed about that last text. Unfortunately, while Sy would be escaping interrogation, you surely weren’t.

“So, dinner, huh?” Jules asked with a wicked smile on her face.

“Jules, it’s not like that.” You weren’t planning on it, at least. No matter how hot he was, he wasn’t getting any just yet. Now those were some sturdy principles that you hoped with all your heart you could stick to. You always had. That being said you’d never met a man like Sy.

“Girl, it has to happen at some point?” Oh, God, the way Julie continuously brought up the fact that you’d never slept with anyone could be so extremely infuriating.

“Would you kindly fuck all the way off, Julietta?” You hated saying her full name almost as much as she hated hearing it. “I’m not jumping on the first dick I can.”

“It wouldn’t even be the first. Or second. Or…”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!” Why did he have to drive this massive truck? Why did you have to wear these massive heels? Oh no, he’s getting out, fuck. Sy was next to you in no time, offering you his arm for support.

“Don’t want you twisting another ankle, right?” He winked – or tried to.

“Do that again!” You laughed, more at the thought of finally having something to tease him with than the fact that he looked really silly when he tried to wink.

“That’s a lot of lip from someone who can’t get dressed without spraining an ankle,” he threw back at you. Both of you laughed nervously.

“I’d invite you home for a drink, but I have one room that isn’t a mess right now," you told Sy when you were done with dessert and your final cup of coffee, and you were running out of excuses to sit at that table any longer.

“I’d take you back to my place, but I currently sleep on a friend’s couch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I was lookin’ into buyin’ a nice li’l fixer-upper a while back. Good amount of land, not too big a house. But I was too late.”

“Oh, shit, Sy, that really sucks,” you replied, not catching on to what he was trying to say.

“Yeah, it did. Place was perfect. But some European author slash college student…”

“Oh…” So you’d swiped his house. Lovely…

“Oh, Sugar, I don’t mind, I’ll find someplace else. Real question is: why’d you buy it? With the amount of work that needs doin’?”

“I don’t know… It passed the vibe check?” And the award for ‘dumbest answer ever’… Except… Sy didn’t look at you as if you’d gone crazy. Instead, the expression on his face kind of told you that he understood. Maybe?

“Right, feels like the kinda place you could really turn into a home, doesn’t it?” You nodded in reply to his question. He did understand.

“Except it’s barely even a house now…”

“Y’know what, Sugar? I’ll help ya out.” “Sy…” “Lara, I’m a small town contractor. You’re gonna be callin’ me sooner or later.” He moved his hand next to yours, not touching you. You remembered what Jules had told you. If he starts being touchy, you’re golden. But he wasn’t being touchy. This was the opposite of being touchy. This looked like being deliberately not touchy…

“But…”

“I’m not offering to do all of it in my spare time, but I can take on the project. And maybe offer up some evenings or Saturdays.”

And then you said the most immortally stupid words ever known to man: “Thanks Sy, you’re a great friend.”

“You’re just friends? Sy you absolute… God I thought even you couldn’t fuck this up, but here we are. Leave it to you to let the whole thing go to…” Julie was pissed, there wasn't much more to say about it.

“Jules, would you step out of the way?”

“No, Patrick,” she said to her boyfriend, “I will not. That stupid game can…”

“Jules, move.” Sy snapped at her. Patrick turned around in his seat, one eyebrow raised, wondering if he was going to have to start a fight with his best friend for the way he talked to his girl.

“Do you want to sleep on that couch tonight?” Julie couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice.

“This is my house!” Patrick said, “you can’t boss him around in my house!”

“If you keep going like this, Sy can’t sleep on the couch because you will be needing it." She shot back at him.

“Listen, Jules, if it’ll getcha to leave,” Sy said reluctantly, “she was the one who said I was a great friend, I decided not to push it. I’m okay with that.” Julie just rolled her eyes in reply to that last bit – the hell they were okay with that. Neither of them could be okay with that.

“Lara, I am done sticking my neck out for you, you know that? This was the last time. I can’t do this again.” There was no way she was going to give Sy an earful about this and not her best friend.

“Jules, please I’m…”

“Tell me you’re sorry and I will murder you, I swear,” Julie hissed. She took a deep breath before continuing: “What on God’s green earth have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

“I… It was too much, too fast. He got too close. He’s different. I like him.” You really tried to forma coherent sentence, but you ended up with word vomit. Oh well, might as well get it all out… “And he offered to help me with the house, it was so nice, but I don’t want to owe him. Not like that. And I thought it would be better if we were just friends. And he didn’t protest…”

“You have four braincells and they are taking a permanent vacation.” Jules was probably right about that.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be remodeling your house. You may be a total fool but you’re not made of stone.” She was probably also right about that. You had to admit to yourself – and let’s be real here, was anyone surprised? – that you hadn’t even thought about that. He’d be at your house.

“He’ll be at your house,” Jules said as if she could read your mind, “hammering, drilling. Nailing.”

“Jules, knock it off!” You laughed, but the truth was that you couldn’t shake the thought of a sweaty Sy handling power tools. Fuck.

#syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters

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mirkwoodshewolf · 11 months

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Siren song; Eddie Munson x reader Monster!AU

*Author’s note*

Okay so this was an idea that’s been popping into my mind. Not necessarily the fic idea overall but doing a MonsterAU! fic. Now while I do enjoy the vampire fics you need to think back to Eddie’s FIRST appearance in the series, the song is called “I was a Teenage werewolf” by The Cramps and c’mon Eddie FITS a werewolf to a T (the hair, the puppy-like energy but also occasional aggression) so in the end this fic was born throughout the weekend :)

So everyone is either a monster or mythological creature in this story and in this one dear readers you are a Siren.

Warnings: violence, swearing, flirty Eddie, some fluff, angst, suicide (mentioned by side character no one in main story).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

________________________________________________________

Being a siren is difficult as it is, but being a teenage siren at a school filled with other mythological and monstrous creatures is another thing. I had transferred here after I was forced to move due to my mother’s passing so I live with my cousin Robin (who is mermaid. Don’t believe what the humans tell you, Sirens and merfolk are related. Distantly but we’re in the same family), and being the new creature in town is tough.

Especially when people give me a hard time about my selective mutism. Now some maybe asking what is that? Well basically I’ve always hated the fact that whatever I said, I’d always put people under my spell. It was like they were forced into being my friends or whatever when all I want is true friends who love me for who I am and not just my siren song. So I’ve chosen to never again speak to anyone except Robin (since sirens can’t affect other sirens or merfolk).

Soon most of the student body stopped pressuring me or just chose to ignore me. All but a select few of students, namely Eddie Munson and his pack of werewolves. Well werewolves (Frank, Gareth and Jeff), a dragon (Dustin), faun (Lucas), and a satyr (Mike). Eddie being the leader of his pack he was the first to welcome me into their humble school and offer a seat at their table if I ever needed one.

He was sweet, charming, adorable, handsome, caring. Okay so yeah I’ve fallen for a werewolf sue me! But the thing about Eddie is that he’s an observer. He understood right when Robin explained to him that I wasn’t much of a talker, he never questioned it.

And bless him he thought it was because I was deaf (since I speak through sign language) he even learned it for me. It wasn’t until I wrote down and explained to him that I wasn’t deaf, I just choose to not talk due to the siren’s spell. God was he adorable with that blush of his.

From then on he and I have been the best of friends but I would never, ever, ever, ever admit my feelings for him. He’d never look at me the same way ever again and the one true friend I’ve made here will be out of reach forever.

I was at my locker switching out my books for my next three classes as well as grabbing my lunch when someone came behind me and scared me with a playful ‘woof!’ I jumped against my locker but didn’t turn around cause I knew who it was.

I turned and playfully slapped his leather jacket arm and signed to him.

‘I hate it when you do that Eddie!’

“Well too bad cause I love it. Oh you’re so easy to scare it’s adorable.” He teased with a pat to my head. I shoved his hand away and slammed my locker shut.

‘So what brings you to my locker-abode this time? Forget to do your American-Gothic assignment again?’

“No this time I was fairly interested in what Edgar Allen Poe, the King of gothic poetry had to say. No what I wanted to ask was if you were busy tomorrow night?” I tilted my head in confusion.

‘Not really. Robin and I were planning a girl’s night in with Nancy and Vickie. Why?’

“Well I was just going to ask if you wouldn’t mind meeting me at Skull Rock?”

‘Skull Rock? Isn’t that your—’

“Shifting place? Yeah.” Oh my god. To werewolves, the most sacred thing to them is their shifting place. Close to every full moon, all the werewolves of the town will go to their spots and start marking it up with claw marks on trees, clothing tied to trees, or rubbing their scent glands up along rocks to show other werewolves to not enter within the perimeter of their shifting territory.

‘I—’

“It’s okay if you don’t. I totally understand I just…..You know what forget I even asked. It was a stupid idea and I shouldn’t have…..” I took his hands before he could run and told him.

‘I don’t mind. Besides Nance and I will end up third and fourth wheeling Robin and Vickie.’

“You’ll really come?” I nodded with a soft smile.

‘But can I ask why tomorrow? Isn’t tomorrow a full moon?’ he looked around cautiously which had me confused. Normally Eddie doesn’t care about anyone eavesdropping on our conversation but he seemed worried about something.

“There’s rumors going around about werewolves being attacked mid-change by some vampires. You remember when Enid didn’t show up to Greek Myth vs History class earlier this week?” my eyes widened. “I don’t know why they’re doing it but I—I usually tend to strike first and ask questions later when it’s…..my time of the month.” He grumbled as he kicked his foot across the cobble-stoned floor. “And I’ve already gotten two strikes against the Vampires, one more and they’ll have me be put down.”

‘So you want someone to keep an eye on you? In case anyone comes around?’ he ducked his head and hide his face behind his hair bashfully but also shamefully. I reached up and brushed his hair away before lifting his chin up. ‘I don’t mind Eddie. But—will I…..you know?’

“Be safe?” he answered. I didn’t mean to be judgmental. I know how werewolves get when they transform and it takes a while for their human side to connect with the wolf’s mind.

In some cases, they are too wild to be around which is why those that are, tend to go out to the woods near Lover’s lake (which is where Eddie turns).

“Don’t worry princess, I know the wolves who turn out there are pretty wild. But I’ve gotten better with controlling my other half. In fact I’m able to focus and see just shortly after the pain dies down. Before it took me an hour or two to focus after my change.” He took my hands into his, “But just in case, you can always stay on top of the rocks. They’re plenty high enough for you to avoid me if you don’t feel comfortable.”

‘I’ll be there Eddie.’

“Thank you angel.” I scrunched my face in disgust at the nickname which made him laugh. “Sorry angel.” I stuck my tongue at him before shoving him.

‘You know I hate that nickname.’

“I know, sorry angel.” I let out a groan and walk off but he quickly pulled me back towards him, our bodies close together and I could already hear my heart racing in my chest as I stared into those deep brown eyes of his. I also heard his heart starting to pick up as he kept me close to him. Wait was he—? “I’ll see you in class sweetheart.” He then gave me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving me there breathless.

Around the full moon, Eddie and all werewolves were more affectionate or aggressive (depending on who you ask). And sure he’s given me quick pecks on the cheek before but this time based on how fast his heart was racing and just feeling the sweat that comes from pheromones he—no he couldn’t be. Could he?

After school, Robin and I were hanging around with her best friend and former Vampire king, Steve Harrington at the apothecary where he and Robin worked.

“He seriously said Vampires are the ones attacking werewolves?” Steve asked me as he was typing up some medical records for their boss.

‘That’s what he said.’ I signed to him.

“He’s not lying. And Enid wasn’t the only werewolf to be attacked. Last month both Jacob and Paul were also attacked. Hell Paul was nearly torn to shreds. Had to get a blood transfusion and everything.” Robin said.

“I mean I know the bad blood between werewolves and vampires has lasted for centuries hell maybe even more than that. But even I know better than to attack a mid-shifting one.”

‘Well Steve you may have that respect but there are some vampires who don’t. Like that douchebag Jason and his lot of vampires. They’re always giving Eddie and his friends a hard time.’

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was them.” Said Robin. Oh god I hope not, that’s the last thing Eddie needs. “But you should tell Steve what Eddie told you next.” She teased as she poked my side with her well-manicured mermaid nails.

“What?” Steve asked fully turning his attention to me. I glared ar Robin who merely shrugged before I said.

‘He invited me to help keep an eye on him as he turns.’ Steve’s eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying.

“You’re telling me; that Eddie Munson, a werewolf, invited you to his shifting spot?” I nodded.

“I told her that he loves her. No one is allowed to be near a werewolf’s shifting spot, especially during the full moon.” Robin teased as she leaned in close against my back.

‘And I told her that I’m just helping out a friend.’ I signed shoving against her to get her off of me but she came right back.

“A friend whom she loves so deeply for.” She poked my cheek to which I gave her a bite and she took back her finger and rubbed it.

“You have been fawning over Munson since you came to live here.” Steve said.

‘Who’s side are you on!?’ I asked him with a glare.

“No one’s side but I do hate watching you pin for your wolf boy. Why not just go up and tell him how you feel?”

‘You both know why.’ I sighed solemnly. Robin came back and hugged me from behind.

“Listen cuz, did it ever occur to you that maybe Eddie loves you not just for your Siren looks? I mean really, you haven’t said a word to him since you flew into town.” I glared at the flying remark she made. “And still that boy has been gaga over you. I mean c’mon! He invited you to his shifting place for Poseidon’s sake!”

“And to them that shit if like sacred ground or whatever.” Steve finished for her.

‘And what if I do finally start talking to him? Or even say that I love him? How will I know what he feels is real and not just cause of my siren spell? Can you both guarantee that much?’ at that they didn’t know how to respond. ‘Didn’t think so.’ With that I chose to return home and get my homework done then just go straight to bed.

The next day went by like every other school day, classes went by as normal and when the final bell rang everyone was either at their lockers getting their stuff together or racing immediately out of the campus grounds.

I walked out of the school and headed towards the parking lot where I found Eddie packing up his van and making sure he had everything for the night. I heard his sniff the air and he turned to me and smiled.

“There you are. I was about to come get you.” I shrugged. “Now you sure you don’t mind hanging out with me until night fall? I can always pick you up at your place.”

‘No, like I said I don’t mind. Plus Robin and Vickie just left together and you know how those girls get when they get the house to themselves. I’d rather put myself under my own spell than hear them go at it with each other.’

“But you can’t deny they are pretty cute together.”

‘No question. I’m glad my cousin was able to find someone special.’ If only the same thing could be said about me. Eddie tilted his head and asked me.

“You okay? You look like you’re gonna cry.” I reached up and touched the corner of my eye and felt a single tear. I wiped it away and took a deep breath before signing to him.

‘I’m fine Eddie. So do we just head over there now or is there some kind of routine you do before you go there?’

“I was thinking we’d head over to the Green dragon for some food. Heard the halflings have got a new special on their menu.” Oh I did love going to the Green dragon. Ever since moving here, I found that if I wanted to go for some good quality food and the best ale in town, it’s the Halfling’s pub the Green Dragon. I swear those creatures make the best dishes known to any creature, hell their meat pies alone could slay dragons and best harpies.

I nodded frantically which made Eddie laugh and he offered me the first step into his van before he drove us over to the Green dragon.

As we sat down at our table, I was working on my Myth vs. History assignment while eating my potato stew with a side of fresh warm biscuits. I looked over to Eddie and saw how he was still working on his homework but he had yet to order anything except water and ale. I reached over and tapped his arm and asked him.

‘Are you not hungry?’

“One downside to being a werewolf is that I can’t eat anything before my transformation. Not even a nibble of food. Due to the change in our organs don’t want to end up hurling my guts out again. Learned that the hard way before I was taught by my uncle.”

‘It’s that painful?’

“More or less. Basically our human organs have to shut down in order for them to grow into our wolf ones. Bones snapping in and out of place and our bodies morphing and changing. Very rarely do the movies the humans make get it right. It gets pretty graphic so, if me telling you this has changed your mind you can easily turn back now. I won’t get upset.” I took out a sheet of paper and quickly wrote a message to him and pushed it towards him.

I won’t leave you. I had wrote. I then held out my hands, palms up and he smiled softly at me as he placed his hands into mine. Our hands grasping each other’s as I rubbed the back of his hands with my thumbs comfortingly.

“You’re the best (Y/n).” I smiled again and squeezed his hands more as I looked into his eyes. God why is it that he can make brown eyes look so beautiful and at the same time adorable? Is it because of him being a werewolf? Or is it just his natural cuteness?

We continued our homework while I finished my supper and it was just two hours before sunset so Eddie decided it would be a good time to drive up towards Lover’s lake and head over to Skull Rock. When we got there and I followed behind Eddie, I took notice of his nails grew into his 4in claws as he began marking various trees.

“Usually I have to do this only once a month but with the werewolves trying to push into other’s territories with these attacks, now we have to enforce it. And I’d rather you not have to deal with two shifting werewolves.” I nodded in understandment.

About 15 minutes later after walking deeper into the woods, we pulled some bushes aside and there it stood, Skull rock. Like the name says, it’s a giant rock in the shape of a skull leaning against another rock that formed a small cave-like structure inside to hide under.

“And there she is sweetheart, Skull Rock. My home away from home every full moon.” We walked towards it and I took notice of the giant claw marks that had faded in the past and some fairly recent markings. Eddie tossed his duffle bag into the little cave underneath the rocks and I asked him.

‘Can werewolves keep their clothes on when they turn? Or do they have to go shirtless before they turn?’

“That fucking bitch Meyers really oversexualized us to no ends in her damned books.” He muttered shaking his head.

‘I’m sorry if I offended you.’

“Oh no, no, no, no you didn’t say anything wrong (Y/n). It’s just they glorified it as some sort of sexy thing and they made it look so quick and easy. And the end result was just dire wolves. No, no, we don’t look like that. I’d say the closest thing to an actual werewolf in Hollywood is ‘An American Werewolf in London’. Though some don’t get as bulky, we all have different shapes depending on our own bodies. Take Enid for example, you know how she has those highlights in her hair?” I nodded. “They appear in her wolf form.”

‘Do you have any distinct features?’

“Well you can thank these luscious curls,” he said dragging his hands through his hair. “It make my wolf form have a mane-like appearance around my neck. Enid says I must be part manticore or something to have a lion’s mane like that. Imagine me being a full manticore, pretty metal if you ask me.”

‘As metal as that sounds, I think I like you better as a werewolf than anything else.’ Eddie just stood there and looked at me. Oh shit please don’t tell me I might’ve revealed my feelings for him by saying that.

Suddenly he stabbed himself in the heart with his fist, throwing himself down to the ground and lay there still and limp. I quickly raced up to him and shook him awake but he didn’t move. I tapped his arm and shook his back but nothing seemed to stir him awake.

Then with a sudden roar he grabbed me and pulled me into his lap and began to tickle my sides. I began laughing as I tried to free myself from his grip but he held firm.

“You can’t say adorable things like that without repercussions sweetheart.” As my laughter rang through the forest, I was almost tempted to finally speak out just to tell him to stop but that lingering feeling of him falling under the siren spell was strong. So I merely batted at his hands and just whimpered as loudly as I could to get him to stop until he finally relented. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an amazing laugh?”

I looked up at him as I tried to catch my breath. He stroked my hair out of my face as he continued.

“And I’m not just saying it. I always thought it was quite beautiful. And I wondered if your voice was anything like that.” My heart sunk. I got off his lap, no he can’t be telling me these things just to get me to talk. “Hey, hey wait hold on. You didn’t let me finish.” I turned to look at him and signed to him.

‘I’ve told you why I can’t talk to anyone Eddie!’

“I know. And I’m not trying to force you to. I swear on my uncle.” When a werewolf swears on a member of their pack, you know it’s a serious vow they’re making. “I won’t deny I’ve always wondered what your voice sounds like. Not because you’re a siren but because you’re you. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna force you to talk, I’d never do that to you. You can talk to me when or if you ever feel comfortable with that.”

My heart grew heavy at his confession. I’ll be honest there have been times, especially recently where I have wanted to talk to Eddie. To finally tell him hello and how much he means to me. But because of what’s happened in the past, especially with relationships, I fear he’ll be just like all the others.

Once the siren song takes full hold of him, he’ll grow too attached to the point where he’ll end his life if he never has me in his life again (yes I had one boyfriend in the past where he actually killed himself just because my mother didn’t approve of him).

I felt him lift my chin with his index finger and thumb so that I could look into his eyes.

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be comfortable around me. And if you not talking to me is what’s comfortable to you, I’ll respect that decision. But I’d also like you to know that you don’t have to be afraid if you ever do wish to talk to me.” My mind debated long and heavy on all that he just said. I kept a firm gaze upon him as I softly licked my lips and slowly opened my mouth.

Suddenly Eddie’s head turned away and sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed as he was on alert now.

“Someone’s here.” He sniffed the air again. “And it’s not werewolf.” I tensed and looked around. “Get up on top of the skull, now!” I quickly raced up and crawled to the top of the skull-like rock while Eddie stood guard from the ground, his wolf growls softly coming out of his throat.

The forest was eerily silent except for a couple snaps of some twigs and the rustle of some of the bushes.

“Just the wolf freak we wanted to see.” Oh god no! Robin was right. Soon coming out of the bushes was Jason Carver, the current Vampire king of the school.

“Back off Jason, you really don’t want to be here.” Eddie warned.

“Seems you don’t get it, do you freak?” suddenly surrounding the area were his vampire lackies; Andy, Chance, Patrick and Eric. “You furball-freaks have been taking up our forests for too long, and we’re finally taking them back!”

“Since when do these woods belong to you?” snapped Eddie.

“For as long as Vampires have settled here. It wasn’t until your tribe of mutts came in and took it from us!” snapped Chance as he cracked his knuckles.

“I don’t want to fight.” Eddie warned them again.

“Too bad loser, cause you’re gonna get one. Less you wanna wolf out early and take us all at once.” Challenged Andy, Jason’s right hand man. It was then Patrick took notice of me and he said.

“And it seems we’ll have to entertain our special guest.” It was then the boys took notice of me.

“Well, well, well, the Siren without a song. Well at least for long, once we’re through with this freak, let’s say we make her sing for us boys?” grinned Andy.

“You lay a hand on her and you’ll regret it!” Eddie growled fearsomely. Suddenly he cried out in pain as we all heard his bones beginning to snap.

“Well look at that boys? Seems the mutt’s got a little crush on the siren. Hate to break it to you mutt, but you’re way out of her league.” Jason and his boys soon began to close in around Eddie.

As night soon began to settle in and the full moon began to rise, Eddie let out another cry of pain as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. I watched as Jason threw the first punch knocking Eddie to the ground before he delivered a hard kick to his chest.

“C’mon wolf-boy. Wolf out!” mocked Jason. Andy then took his turn as he kicked Eddie in the back.

“Wolf out! Wolf out! Wolf out!” the vampires soon began chanting as Eddie’s hands began to twitch and grow hairier with his transformation. I then saw as Chance actually stepped on Eddie’s hand mid transformation and he let out a cry of agony.

I growled and soon stood up on top of the rocks as I let out a scream which caused the vampires to look up at me.

“Oh don’t you worry beautiful, once we’re done here, you’ll be next. We’ll get you to sing nice and good for us better than this mutt ever could.” Jason said with a sickening grin. As I heard them laugh and high-five their leader’s disgusting suggestion, I opened my mouth and began vocalizing.

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The sound of my voice immediately stopped their celebration as they looked at me. I revealed my black wings and flew down to the ground as my eyes glowed bright red as I put them under my spell. I moved my hands down my body seductively as I walked up to Patrick and stroked down his face.

His eyes soon shining red as he was fully under my control as I then moved to Andy as I sang in a higher key. I got almost close enough to kiss him but I shoved his limp body aside as he had that dopey grin on his face that most men get when they hear the song of the Siren. I then went over to Chance and got down on my knees in front of him.

You would think I’d be giving him a blow job when in truth I went to grab his ankle and literally snapped it in two with my brute strength. He let out an agonizing scream and fell to the ground cradling his broken ankle like a baby as I ended the song with a powerful vocalization before I gave the command.

“Tear yourselves apart Vampires.” In a flash Jason’s friends turned to one another and did as I had commanded. Snarls, hisses, and blood splattered everywhere as they began to tear each other apart. I turned to Eddie who sat there with a dazed look in his eyes while his body continued to transform.

I sighed solemnly, he had been put under the spell as well. I knew that frozen look anywhere.

“Come back Ed…..” I told him but I was suddenly ripped away from him and pinned against the rock. A furious Jason stared me down baring his fangs as he held me by the throat. But how? He should’ve joined his friends in trying to kill each other.

“Seems like another trouble-maker is stirring our nick of the woods. I’ve heard plenty of mermaid songs but you sirens are another beast.”

“How—are you able……”

“To resist your song? Simple answer, earplugs. I knew that freak would ask you to come out and be his bodyguard. The bastard’s been marking you ever since you flew into town.”

“He’s more of a noble creature than you’ll ever be!” I choked out. He slammed me against the rock so hard that I felt it crush underneath me. Tiny specks of rubble fell around my head.

“How’s about I rip those vocal cords of yours? Then you’ll really have no voice when I drain every last ounce of blood you’ve got.” I felt his nail grow as they began to pierce my throat and he slid his thumb across it giving it a little knick as I felt blood trail down my collarbone.

Just before Jason could even take a bite, a large figure tackled him off of me and I let out a gasp of air before coughing harshly. I turned to see a werewolf rolling with Jason as the two fought for dominance over the other until Jason was thrown against a tree, snapping it in half as he fell to the ground with the werewolf standing over him. It turned to me baring it’s large fangs at me but I remembered what Eddie said.

The lion-like man around his neck as the moon shone on his dark brown fur (the same color as his hair). He huffed as he looked at me and I said his name.

“Eddie.” He let out a grateful huff and he almost seemed to smile at me. That’s when I noticed Jason starting to get back up. “Eddie watch out!” with a single sniff, he snarled and turned back towards Jason.

“You mangey, flea-ridden bastard. You’ll pay for that!” Eddie let out an aggressive roar as he slammed his front arms down challenging Jason the way I’ve read that werewolves challenge each other. Jason let out an aggressive his as his fangs grew larger and the two of them charged head on at each other.

Animalistic snarls and growls sounded through the forest as each monster threw the other across the forest. Both were equal in strength, speed and power but soon Jason got the upper hand when he knocked Eddie against Skull Rock and repeatedly began to punch and slam Eddie against the rock.

I went over to Eddie’s bag and quickly dug through it and saw that he had a syringe with dead-man’s blood and a machete. I grabbed the machete and raced towards Jason and sliced him across the back making him scream in pain. He ceased his attack on Eddie and turned his attention towards me.

I raced back towards Eddie’s bag to grab the syringe but I was pinned down and I felt his breath hit my face. His raw strength pushing down against my back but before I could let out another siren song, I heard my shoulder snap as I screamed in pure agony.

Jason was soon tossed off my shoulder and I watched in both horror and awe as Eddie began to tear at Jason’s back and face. But Jason used his feet to kick Eddie off of him and into a tree which fell on top of him. Eddie let out a yelp as he tried to get himself free.

“You both….will regret this night!” but before Jason could do anything, he suddenly froze until he fell to the ground.

“The only one who will regret this night is you.” I sat up and through the light of the full moon stood Steve who held a tranq-dart and at his side was Robin as well as Chief Hopper (the only human in this town that kept the peace between us and the humans of Hawkins).

“You okay?” Robin asked me as she came running up to me. My attention soon turned to Eddie who was whimpering as I heard his bones cracking again, he was transforming back into his human form. I raced towards the tree and desperately tried to lift it off of him to make his transformation easier, but I couldn’t do it on my own.

Steve soon came over and grabbed the other end of the tree and together we lifted it up and off of Eddie as he huffed and whimpered in pain. He had just finally been able to fully transform and now to suddenly shift back into his human form due to the pain he was in, it must’ve been pure agony for him to go through this much in one night.

I reached out and touched his morphing paw as I felt the fur on him recede back to human skin and his growls faded into human groans before he collapsed to the ground. I pulled him into my lap, his head resting on my thighs before he soon passed out.

“Someone mind telling me what happened here?” asked Hooper.

“Jason and his friends.” I spoke out loud. Robin’s eyes widened. Not because of my answer but because I answered at all.

“(Y/n) you—you’re talking.”

“I need to say this Robin.” I turned to Chief Hooper and explained to him everything that happened. I knew Eddie had strikes against the vampires in the past and has been arrested before due to his ‘wolfing out’ in the past but I pleaded with Hooper to not blame Eddie for tonight.

“You’re new to this town siren. There’s a fine line I can’t cross between you creatures and the people of Hawkins. I gotta give some kind of report and arrest someone.” I held onto Eddie and said.

“Then you’ll have to arrest me too if you take him into custody. I’m just as guilty of murder even more than Eddie. He acted in self-defense.” Hooper looked at us before saying.

“Don’t think I can arrest a young woman who was merely defending herself and her boyfriend against some thugs. I saw Carver break your shoulder myself, so the only guilty party I see is the vampire having a paralysis nap thanks to Harrington here.” Hooper then walked over to Carver and picked him up, forcing him on his feet. “Hope you vampires know some good lawyers, cause you’re gonna need one.” He then dragged Jason away.

“What about Eddie’s injuries? Jason tossed him around like a ragdoll and his friends had a hand in hurting him mid-change.” I said.

“I just called the paramedics, they’re on their way.” Steve said and soon enough in came flying in on Pegasus’ were the Valkyries. They landed their horses and came over and asked what had happened.

Robin explained to them as one of them took Eddie out of my lap. I tried to reach out for him but my shoulder ached as I moved it and another Valkyrie came up to me and helped me onto my feet.

“C’mon, we’re taking you to the white witches. They’ll heal you too up in no time.” I was soon led to another Pegasus and soon both Eddie and I were taken out of the woods and towards Witch grotto where we would be tended to for our injuries.

After getting my shoulder set back into place and drinking a potion for the pain, I sat by Eddie’s bedside as he was covered in Athelas plants for his injuries and had a wet cloth laying across his forehead for the small fever he had due to his infected injuries.

I reached out and took his hand and stroked the back of it and I remained vigil at his bedside until he began to stir when the sun began to rise. He let out a tired groan as he opened his eyes to me.

“(Y/n).” I exhaled in relief as I brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “Where are we?”

“White witch grotto.” We turned and Nancy came walking in. “The Valkyries brought you here and I was called in late to come and heal yours and (Y/n)’s injuries. Since I am specially qualified to heal werewolf injuries, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks Wheeler, I owe yah.” Eddie groaned.

“Just take it easy for the weekend and hopefully you’ll be back on your feet by Monday. Look after him (Y/n) you know how stubborn he can get when it comes to needing bedrest.” Boy don’t I. I nodded to Nancy and thanked her in sign language then she left us alone.

“Hate to ask but what happened to Jason?”

‘Hooper took care of it. You can also thank Steve for the dead man’s blood tranq that brought him down.’

“Good old Steve Harrington. He is so gonna have this looming over my head for ages.” He teased, which made me shake my head at him softly giggling. His laughter died down once he took notice of the small band aid that was on my neck from the knick Jason’s nail had done to my throat. “The son of a bitch.” He growled lowly as he stroked over the band-aid.

‘He’s gone now. Let’s not worry about it anymore.’

“I can’t help it. He hurt you, hell he could’ve killed you. All because I hadn’t fully turned.”

‘Because of him and his idiotic friends.’

“Sometimes I wish the change was quick and painless. I should’ve done more, I could’ve done more.” I took a deep breath in and finally answered him out loud.

“You did enough.”

“Only because I—” he trailed and looked up at me in shock. “Holy shit, did you just—you spoke to me?! So I wasn’t going crazy, that was your voice I heard as the wolf.” I nodded. He reached out and cupped the side of my face and whispered lovingly, “it’s beautiful. Just like the girl it’s attached to.”

“The spell can wear off after the first song within 12 hours. If I don’t talk after this, it could be by this afternoon even.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop talking?”

“Eddie I can’t. This is all part of the siren song. I don’t even have to be singing to put you under my spell. What you’re saying is all because of—”

“My feelings for you.” I shook my head in disbelief and scoffed lowly. “Look me in the eyes (Y/n).” I refused to look at him until he cupped the other side of my face. “I saw how their eyes glowed with your song. I may not care for my grades but I’m not stupid. I know when a siren speaks or sings, their victims eyes glow under their spell, are mine glowing at all?” I searched his eyes for any trace of siren magic in them but all I could see was his bright, puppy dog brown eyes.

“No, but……”

“No buts. Look, I know this is probably the worst time to say it but I also wanted to share it with you yesterday. In fact I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you this. I love you (Y/n). And not in the friendly platonic way anymore I mean like the soulmate way. When a werewolf howls at the moon searching for their partner kind of way. And there was no siren song or even your natural siren beauty to hypnotize me. I fell in love with your heart, your humor, and your spirit. Never before did I think I would find my other half but it wasn’t until she flew into town like an angel in punker clothes.”

“You know how I hate that nickname.” I softly reprimanded him which made him chuckle and lean his forehead against mine. His nose chasing after mine to rub up against it. The faint glimpse of his canine teeth poking out through his smile.

“At this point, I don’t care. Because it’s true. You are my angel (Y/n), and you didn’t need your siren song to bewitch me.”

“I’m scared though Eddie, I—” I trailed off. I felt his nose gently nudge against my cheek as he nuzzled against me like a puppy trying to comfort their master. “I’m worried you’ll…..that you’ll fall for me too deeply, that you could end up killing yourself over me. And I don’t mean by picking up fights with vampires.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I feel like at this point I have to, cause you need to know the risk of dating a siren.” He separated from me and leaned against his pillow so that I could tell my story.

“Back home, I dated this one guy. He was a wood Elf, strong, brave, loyal, caring. Much like you in a way. But my mother disapproved of him and threatened to end his life alongside my aunts. I tried to break things off with him but he refused to go away. Not because he had grown arrogant in the manner of the ‘if I can’t have you no one will’. But I took notice of his eyes. His eyes that once held life in the early stages of our relationship had grown soulless, with only the red spell of the siren song affecting his mind. When I stopped all contact with him, I find out through our newspaper feed that he died throwing himself off a cliff.”

“Jesus, elves really are sensitive to their feelings.” Eddie said nonchalantly.

“Eddie!” he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. But in all seriousness (Y/n). I’m not like that guy, I’m not like any other creature you might’ve dated before. Because I didn’t even hear your voice at all until now. And I was still able to fall in love with you. Not right away but with time my affections for you grew. Sure you were beautiful and caught my eye but did I throw myself at your feet in worship or whatever people do around you sirens?”

“No you introduced yourself and offered me a table to sit at because I looked like a lost sheep since Robin and I didn’t have the same lunch schedule.”

“Exactly.” He took my hands in his as his forehead once again touched mine. “But if you don’t feel the same way, or even wish to have a relationship with me. I’ll never bring it up again, and still be your friend.”

“Y-you’d seriously do that?”

“One thing about werewolves is loyalty to the pack. You’re a member of my pack. Whether friend or mate, I’ll accept whatever you choose.” I looked at him with a loving gaze before finally leaning in and kissed his lips.

Slightly chapped and stained with dried up iron, for some reason the kiss felt perfect. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he brought his to my waist slowly pulling me close until the need for air became a necessity. Our breaths gently danced across each other’s and as he opened his eyes, there wasn’t a trace of red magic affecting his mind (which happens when a siren kisses their victims).

“I’ve only ever dreamed of that happening.” He whispered.

“Did I live up to your expectations?”

“Oh sweetheart, you exceeded them.” He chuckled lowly as he had his hand move behind my head and brought me in for another kiss, this time deeper and more passionate. I felt myself lying on the bed and he was hovering over me and as we separated he said.

“And thus Beauty tamed the Beast.” I threw my head back laughing as I wrapped my arms around him stroking his wild hair as I praised.

“My wolfie.” He groaned at the nickname burying his face into my neck. “You call me angel, I get to call you Wolfie.”

“Fair enough. But don’t call me that in front of the guys. They’ll never let me live it down, especially Henderson. That little firedrake’s ego is already a problem as it is.”

“Deal. I love you Eddie.”

“Love you too (Y/n).” he leaned down and captured my lips in one final passionate and loving kiss.

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