#still a privilege lol not sorry

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Some people will get soooo offended if you say they are privileged ???what’s the deal with that

privileged=undeserving? it’s morally ambiguous?? privilege=malice??? evil intent?? no!

[bruciemilf]

Yk what I need??? NEED the batKids to just admire Bruce’s beauty ( USHSJSNSNS ur last post about Jason calling Bruce pretty just added fuel to the fire )

Love ur blog :)!!!

Thank you! And that’s so adorable! I just adore the image of Bruce, wide awake at 3 in the morning, applying concealer all over the swollen bruises acquired tonight.

The brush is thick and fluffy, designed to spread a generous amount while maintaining a smooth application, its bristles silver and pale. Dick thinks it belonged to Bruce’s mom, because he looks terribly sad using it.

“You should be asleep, “ Bruce sighs, not entirely delighted his ward is losing precious resting time. He’s read, clearly, that children need a minimal 8 hours of sleep.

“So should you! What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready for a meeting at 7.”

“You’re like, really pretty.”

Bruce pauses, skin blossoming with sudden, flustered heat, “Oh, thank you, Dickie, that’s very kind—“

Dick’s smile beams like moonlight, “So you agree. You think you’re really pretty.”

“…I haven’t watched a single movie in 12 years, so, I think that joke is wasted.”

“Dammit. Thanks a lot, trauma.”

Oh, but Jason? The tiny boy could watch Bruce for hours. His face is so interesting. B’s eyelashes are so long, and his eyes are such a pretty hazel, just like Catherine’s, and his smile is awesome.

He feels really special, because Bruce smiles for no camera, but when Jason asks him to take his picture, he does it without complaint.

“B, boys can be pretty too, right?”

Bruce pauses a bit, not entirely confident. Should he treat this as something casual? Should he break out the educational, but welcoming dialogue? Is it something else? Why aren’t there parenting classes?

“Hn. Yeah.”

“I think you’re the prettiest man in Gotham!”

“I’m afraid that’s not true, Jason.”

“What?! How come?!”

“Because the prettiest boy in Gotham is standing right in front of me.”

Tiny Jason squeaking and squealing joyfully while Bruce takes him in his arms, peppering his soft cheeks with kisses, while a teenage Dick rolls his eyes in the background, trying not to smile.

[thecruellestmonth]

Do you guys really believe that killing is the singular bad thing that cops do?

Or even that killing is the most frequent bad thing that cops do?

Are you saying that if cops didn't kill, then they'd be the same as Batman? Because then you're suggesting that effectively Batman already is a cop, with the exception that he hasn't killed (just like the majority of U.S. cops, who have never once shot or killed anybody).

I'm a bit worried to see opinions suggesting that only killing is wrong—and that violence, stalking, and humiliation are okay. In real-life, police commit countless acts of those "little" abuses, terrorizing entire communities, before they murder anybody.

Invading people's privacy is wrong. Hurting people to the point of hospitalization is wrong. Forcibly drugging people is wrong. Putting people in cages is wrong. Torture and "enhanced interrogation" are wrong. Ambushing people in their homes and safe places is wrong. Keeping inexhaustible wealth is wrong.

Superhero comics are power fantasies. Not all fantasies need to reflect our ideology in reality. But once you apply your real-life values to fiction, once you decide that fiction showcases exemplary real-life ideology—then your praise for Batman's ideology does become a worrying reflection of your real-life understanding of social issues.

[detransraichu]

damn son I'm literally a transandrophobia poster and I routinely rail against TIRFism and even I think your takes are wack. "AMAB privilege" GTFO with that man. we can lift up transmasc voices and promote trans unity and talk about radfem ingression into trans spaces without making this another AMAB/AFAB oppression olympics thing - that was the whole problem, we should be doing the opposite. stop taking words like TIRF and pretending to be against radfems when you're eating their talking points for breakfast

tirf means trans inclusive radfem, so tirfs actually are radfems! i am one myself. terfs aren't actually a thing - there are definitely transphobic radfems, but radfeminism includes ALL afab people, transmascs included. i'm still veryyy critical of how many handle trans issues. i reblog as much material as i can for my book, which very often includes not-so-kind terms/phrasing, but i do try to use language as respectful as i can in my own posts so i can have actual conversations with trans folks and trans activists, including saying amab/afab and agab instead of male/female.

i do believe that transfem people face unique oppression on the complicated axis of what ppl call transmisogyny. which imo is mostly a mix of sexism and homophobia if someone knows that person's sex/agab, mixed with conditional misogyny if they pass and live their life as afab. if they're outed as amab, they're seen as a gnc man again and with all the violent sexism that comes with that. it's a very complex form of oppression. i know they go through a lot of unique trauma, i'm not denying it.

but i also believe that afab people are uniquely oppressed as well.

if not, then what do you call this if not unique oppression? forced impregnation, abortion/pregnancy issues, period tax, lack of menstruation/uterus research & resources, afab bodies being under-represented in medicine which causes horrific things to happen, afab babies being aborted or killed at birth for being born with a vagina (afab) bc they're seen as lesser, afab upbringing coming with very unique experiences that amab ppl for better or worse will never understand (it is NOT a fucking privilege fuck you), being born with a body type that is very obviously vulnerable against people with penises sexually due to people with bio dicks feeling genital pleasure when they stick it in something, and god knows they will not give a shit about the person below them (look at fucking nature documentaries!!!). they will take off the condom. they will pressure ppl to do anal or give painful blowjobs. they will be creeps or jerks about pregnancy. they will generally put penises above vaginas and amab rights over afab rights, and this shit is DEEPLY ingrained in society. transfems being able to transition is very new, meaning that although they had many struggles before, they were not treated as female and had that (perhaps painful) privilege for MOST of human history. this meant being allowed to open a bank, go places without a husband, not being forced to be impregnated like cattle, not being forced to be a mother stuck in a kitchen, and having SOOO much more generational wealth at their disposal. afab ppl reading abt historical afab oppression is upsetting in a way that transfems will never fully be able to relate to. afab people have a deep, rich, unique culture and faced trauma for thousands of years and us being afab is not a privilege!! we have the privilege of not understanding transfem issues, sure, like a woman not being a lesbian won't face lesbophobia. but then again male-attracted women face violence from men in a unique way!! it's complex af when you're already marginalized

most ppl have an agab-based sexuality too, cis men included, meaning afab ppl are the ONLY *INTENDED* target of cis men's lust and sexual violence and whatever misogynistic bs they say about women, since most cis men are heterosexual. amab ppl face it, and it fucking sucks for them too, but they also only face it conditionally - the very second the cis guy realizes the person is amab, the usual trope is them throwing up thinking back on how they kissed and wanting to punch the "crossdressing pervert" EVEN if the transfem had every surgery possible and looked totally afab. they lose attraction, usually anyway, and physical violence linked to homophobia and gncphobia is the danger transfems then risk. which ofc is absolutely horrible, it can be life-ruining. but not an afabmisogyny experience. they aren't unconditionally sexualized. they are mistaken for afab due to all the surgeries and hormones they took. it's misdirected afabmisogyny due to ppl assuming they were born with a vagina and went thru afab puberty. and then harming them bc they see afab ppl as sex objects and dumb bitches, they see us being born and raised afab as a weakness. they hate us and want us for our sex/agab. most misogyny is about specifically afab people! and yes transmisogyny sucks, it should be called out too for sure. but when fem transmascs pass as transfem post-transition they always are open about experiencing misdirected transmisogyny and talking abt transfem rights etc etc. why can't transfems do the same with cis women and transmascs?? why can't they talk abt how transmisogyny & misogyny against cis women are both bad in different ways? it's always them being victims vs those evil privileged bitches!!

and not just quickly mention it but ACTUALLY speak up about it, uplift afab voices, and be genuinely good afab allies? where are the posts from transfems calling out transfems' afabmisogyny? why can't transmascs or cis women write posts abt it without being met by death threats and terf accusations? i know you think you can only further transandrophobia discussions by tiptoing around the existence of afab-exclusive misogyny. i know talking abt transmasc-unique issues already leads to insane amounts of bullying from afab & transfem folks. but i'm tired of transfems getting away with shitty behavior. i'm tired of cis women being only seen as oppressors against transfems. something needs to change. i truly believe that radfeminism isn't a lost cause, and in fact there are more and more transmasc radfems, and even transfems who are strong radfem allies. people are finally waking up to the realities of afab oppression!! they're finally embracing nuance!

misogynistic behavior from transfems gets brushed under the rug and them being amab is seen as completely irrelevant, anyone bringing it up is a bigot, while afab folks are more than open to their agab being a factor in conflict... it's unfair. as you've shown, transfems and the ppl speaking for them refuse to have nuanced talks abt afab oppression, they view it as "omg we're all oppressed!! shut the fuck up theyfab go bootlick those privileged cis cunts! no one wants to hear about your issues for longer than a minute, only listen to MINE!! being afab is a PRIVILEGE i didn't get to grow up afab stop rubbing it in my face!!!" what sucks is that transfems and transfem allies used to be soooo much more respectful of cis women and transmasc people's rights too. literally NO ONE used to say that being afab genuinely meant you got benefits in society. no one. like holy fucking shit. the past 20 years has been a fever dream!!!

i'm 100% for transfems living their best lives, transition included, and i've heard many horror stories of transfem-specific experiences i'll never truly understand. but it's not a strict oppressor/oppressed dynamic all the time. just because you're not oppressed on every axis of oppression ever doesn't mean you have no struggles. it's fucking insane that i keep needing to explain that to people, like oh my god do y'all not understand that someone can be both privileged and disprivileged in society in different ways, and might need to both have their voices boosted sometimes and ALSO need to take a back seat other times??? this ain't us cis radfems OR transandrophobia activists just playing oppression olympics. this is an oppressed group talking abt their unique struggles and being mocked to hell and back. and it's sad that it's seen as catty and selfish and bitchy. but as an afab woman i'm not surprised lmao.

and yeah you might speak on transmasc issues, but do you speak on afab rights? do you call out misogynistic bullshit that transfems say about cis women too? do you speak on cis women's oppression as well, about how they're oppressed by amab people too and are oppressed in a different way than transmasc or transfem folks, for being afab and ALSO identifying as women? do you mention how afab people are a uniquely oppressed class of people, or are you too scared of stepping on transfem toes bc they're seen as the top of the oppression pyramid and will harass you off the site?? why is saying that amab people as a class have privilege over afab folks on an oppression axis controversial? what about that feels like an attack?

if you're transfem or otherwise are amab and live perceived as afab, and you aren't afraid to recognize that afab oppression is its own thing and deserves its own voice and its own movement, ily bestie. i see you. i see more and more of you lately and it warms my heart. we aren't enemies, we can learn from eachother. thank you for working thru that initial knee-jerk reaction and learning to be a good ally to afab folks. i wish you the best <3 and if you're transmasc you DESERVE to have your voice heard too. you deserve to speak on afab rights and for transfems to want to be good allies to you too!! ALL afab people have unique voices that need to be heard for once!

[rogersstevie]

ALSO when people are like "taylor is the straightest person" which always comes from people who don't know the lore but it's always like. okay it's because you think she's cringe-y. idk how to tell you this but gay people are not inherently like, cool and suave or what fucking ever lol 30-somethings who use embarrassing language on the internet can be gay. sorry if that's hard for you.

[viksalos]

reading up on autism to figure out what the fuck is going on with me and making a list of personal pros and cons to figure out whether i should feel good or bad about it. as one does

pros: hyperlexia, deeply compassionate, talent for mathematics and the sciences/can do calculations of reasonable complexity in my head, visual hypersensitivity/decent artistic ability when replicating from still life/good at distinguishing subtle colors, acute hearing/good at identifying distinct sounds and sonic textures/deeply moved by music, can rotate some shapes in my head really fast i guess

cons: people can tell something is "off" about me in a fraction of a second and will be anywhere from begrudgingly polite to overtly hostile about it, terminal "not like other girls" disease/feeling of disconnect with existing in a feminine body, can pace for hours on end until my legs hurt, frequent crying & shutdowns, talk about myself and my interests extensively and can't seem to find a way to stop or better relate to others outside of mirroring them, productive work that actually *utilizes* my talents seems to only happen in increasingly infrequent bursts of hyperfocus, recurring identity issues stemming from a fundamental feeling of being born wrong and belonging nowhere, visceral hypersensitivity means i'm in pain from the normal functioning of my own organs for most of the day, people have compared me to sheldon cooper and elon musk, i am constantly begging for the sweet release of death,

[dootznbootz]

Do you have Diomedes eventually being immortalized by Athena in your hcs like he is in some versions of his mythology?

Honestly, I don't really know? 😅 He kind of only "exists" in my writing until he meets once with Penelope at like, 13-14 years of Odysseus being gone. Sthenelus is, ofc, with him. :D And he tells some stories to Penelope and kind of hangs out with Telemachus before they're off again. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

After that, I don't think much or plan much for him 😅 "You played your narrative purpose, now you are free to do what you please, little dude."

Maybe I'll have it mentioned or something? but I don't know for sure :'D

[hauntedpearl]

I'm in a lot of pain rn so feel free to just ignore all this rambling but i am having memories assault me and i want to talk about it!!!

like when i was 20 and in college, i was super suicidal and i often self harmed and stuff and every once in a while I'd be like fuck it im doing it tonight and I'd sit down to write a suicide note right because despite everything I'm a dramatic whore and i was like if i die they have to know it's not because of them!!! and then I'd start writing about how i was just tired but despite everything it was alright because i loved my friends and i loved my family and there was something good about all that and i might have been an idiotdamnassholefailure but atleast i had that and it would like. knock me out of my body and I'd sleep and sometimes that's really all it took to not Do The Bad Thing, ykwim? anyway. it didn't always work sometines things were out of control but you deal, you move on etc like that's life. i still think about it when i have bad moments tho and like. I'm aalways taking myself and my life a little too seriously when im alone w my thoughts and i just keep trying to convince myself of the same things that helped me when i was younger but i live a much more physically isolated life now and it seems harder but there are some days where like. idk. where it feels so overwhelmingly nice and i wish everyone has more of those days i wish I have more of them too. it's just. i think, especially when you're reliant on a online community to a large extent, it's so easy to get caught up in the weirdness of it. and like you can forget that outside of it there is so much life and there is so much you still will do like. it might take a while esp if you're young but your world will get big and then small again and then big again and then one day you'll die and it's okay. like that's how it is. you'll make friends again, fall in love with them again, and there will be that fleeting moment that, when you're awfully sad, will remind you that there was love there. and i think. idk. helps me when i think about holding out for those moments. On good days, atleast.

[magnoliamyrrh]

hearing my professor say "sex workers" in class after and while literally and explicitely talking about nonwestern victims of sex trafficking using those terms like. im gonna eat my own tongue. im gonna scream so loudly and so silently it will burst my lungs. im going to become a black hole.

in general i find that term to be so fucking offensive bc it can only maybe apply to a very very small minority of well off economically privileged women who "choose" to do "sex work" (and even many of them talk abt feeling exploited - almost like prostitution is inherently expolitative wow) but. you know sometimes those "sex workers" are the only ones ppl rly picture, they dont picture street prostitution, hitckhiker hookers, sex trafficking, child sex trafficking, that the averege age of entering prostitution is 14, drug addiction, pimps, constant violence, etc

but. dear lord help me. in the context of literally taking explicitely about victims of "sex" trafficking in relation to poverty. to still have this postmodern god forsaken fucking nightmare so dug into your hear you say SeX WoRkErs;;; I ;;; I. Honestly im so offended. Its so fucking offensive. Like i almost wanna fucking cry. And she aint even white lmao shes indian like maam as a fellow immigrant please stop parroting the western bullshit i beg you. its so god damn fucking offensive and this bullshit is passed off as progressive and right and parroted by professors and taught as a given and preached and taught uncritically and then parroted by students and then. someone posts it online and some idiot reads it tells it to another idiot who tells it to another idiot. And then this insanity affects the whole westenrn "FeMinIsM" movement. And then, not only do I personally have to deal with a bunch of fucking idiots who have the gull to tell ME how the fuck I cant or can speak and how I should fucking feel when they dont got a single damn clue, BUT ALSO. this sort of cultural fucking idiocracy leads to real life impacts. Ala, western european states legalizing prostitution, thus the horrid rise of sex trafficking, child sex trafficking, child pornography, etc, of mainly balkan, roma, refugee, immigrant, poor, etc etc women. Ala, there was this article written by a Romanian prostitute in spain. She was complaining about how because of this sex work narrative now even more men come to prostitutes bc theyve bought this bullshit narrative of the "happy sex worker" so. now, they have to put all this extra fucking emotional effort into pretending like theyre enjoying what these men are doing to them and like they want it and all this shit. Which, let me tell you, its a whole lot easier to just dissociate when you get used to being regularly raped than it is to have to pretend like you fucking want it and enjoy it too. Something along the lines, these men want your soul not just your body, and this much worse...... And how, because of this, they also have to invest more in makeup and shit to look "well" which fuether just sinks them into the whole cycle which is quite hard to get out of. So. So.

As far as Im concerned. All the god forsaken postmodern nonsense that is propagated in western social sciences academica - has real life fucking effects. It has. The things written, the things discussed, the things professors say. Ive said before, that maybe postmodernism has some academic value (though we didnt need french people to be like, yo dude did you know multiple perspectives on life exist? inssne!). But. It doesnt fucking stay in academica. None of this bullshit stays in academica. And apart from this sort of bullshit not even being "feminism" and being inherently detrimental to the unity needed for social movements, inherently complacent, inherently antirevolutionary, inherently fucking REEKING of western individualism and selfishness up the fucking ass,,,,,,,,,it has real life fucking affects.

Westerners whove never fucking been through any of this shit sit in universities coming up with all these fucking theories but who pays the price. Who pays the god damn fucking price? Who? For their thought experiments? For these societal experiemnts? For these bullshit western ideas of freedom and progress and feminism? We do. My people do. We do. God fucking damn it

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok but can we as a society stop assuming that just cos a queer person is under the age of 30, doesn't mean they haven't experienced some form of bigotry directed at them because of their identity lol????

[yousaytomato]

Whilst personally I've never encountered this, I have heard that there are accounts which upload movies to tiktok in ridiculous 1 minute chunks and you know what

doesn't that just feel right

Like I really hope that this is happening, I hope there are kids out there watching some random movie, cropped and edited to comply to tiktok restrictions in like 80 separate clips

Because didn't We do that too? Didn't We watch bad movies on YouTube, flipped and in a boarder to avoid copyright?

Didn't we watch movies on DS screens and iPods and early smart phones, when there were about 10 pixels in each screen

It just, it feels right.

[silouvertongues]

read everything i know about love it and kinda put me in a lil depressive mood lol ??

[igumie]

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-ON ATTENTION IS WHAT I WANT 😩💥

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he���d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[delcakoo]

enha giving you partner privilege ˖ ࣪ ˒ ‎♡⃕

requested <3

PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff!

WC ! 3.1k

WARNINGS ! being judged for wearing a skirt in jungwon’s

a/n: help i’m sorry this took literal months but finally feeding u all an enha reaction-ish T-T i took multiple long breaks between most of these so. sorry if it’s weird lol

LEE HEESEUNG !

if literally anybody tries to tease or make fun of this man.. oh no

he is NOT afraid to retaliate and tear them to shreds, even if it’s his closest friends or members <\3

when it comes to you though..

he just ,, LETS YOU ?!

and everyone else agrees that it’s totally unfair, INCLUDING YOU because you wanted a reaction.. that’s the whole point of teasing :(

but instead he just sits there with a dumb little smirk because he thinks you’re so cute and wants to give you a kiss as you continue calling him a loser 🧌

“hah, you suck. i don’t even play video games and i won,” you taunt with a big, victorious grin

heeseung doesn’t even complain or fight back, continuing to go past the results screen with a nonchalant smirk, “yeah yeah.. you just got lucky”

however, you begin to pout slightly, earning no actual reaction from your relentless teasing

so you try and push him further, “nuh uh, i think you’re just bad. but it’s okay seungie, you can’t be good at everything~”

well, that doesn’t work either

instead of getting mad heeseung just GRINS, quietly admiring how cute you look when you’re all cocky and smug about your little victory

aaand then everything goes downhill when sunghoon enters the room 😟

the tall boy snickers immediately at the sight of the tv, watching your character dance in victory, “nice one, y/n!”

you grin up at the younger with a wink, “thanks hoon, i must admit, it was an easily won battle.”

he laughs harder, “next time you gotta go easy on him,” feeling brave apparently, sunghoon has the nerve to ruffle your boyfriend’s fluffy hair with a mischievous smirk, “you know how hyung gets when he loses.”

yikes

heeseung’s once adoring expression turns into one of (half joking) annoyance, jaw clenched as he swats sunghoon’s hand away from his head

“really bro? 1v1 me right now then, i’ll kick your ass and we both know it,” he sasses, getting ready to throw the other controller at the boy

the speed in which sunghoon bolted outta the room in pure terror

you’re just 🧍

“no fair, how come you don’t get mad when i tease you?” you complain, crossing your arms like a toddler

heeseung’s expression softens again, pulling you towards his side of the couch for a warm hug, “s’cause you’re my baby,” he murmurs cheesily against your skin

“and ‘cause i let you win.”

“aw— wait what?” 😕

// PARK JAY !

the amount of privilege you have as this man’s partner?? lord

there is a lOt

you get excused for every little thing

even though jay hates ppl touching his hair he lets you?! and of course will make you food ALL the time

while if anyone else asks, they’ll prob have to spend some time convincing him for a while or bribe him y’know

but perhaps the biggest one..

disturbing jay during his naps is equivalent to asking for a punch in the face

it’s pretty much common knowledge amongst the members that it’s impossible to wake him up anyway

but if they somehow do get him up, they should expect many annoyed grunts and remarks and probably a middle finger before he inevitably falls back to sleep

naps are very serious business for mr park

BUT when you’re in the picture..

suddenly he gets all soft and compliant..

his members find this very annoying and you’re just like hah losers 🥰

at this point they start facetiming you whenever he’s napping because bro practically launches out of bed at the sound of your voice

“hyung, hyung wake up!” jungwon is literally shaking the older boy, pushing him back and forth on the bed

yet he is sTiLL asleep

there has to be some kind of sleeping competition they can sign him up for because god he deserves an award <\3

jungwon eventually gives up, calling for sunghoon’s help

and how does he help?

giving him a big smack on the head of course

finally, jay flinches awake, groaning as he touches his head, “what the hell hoon?!”

“dinner’s ready! ” jungwon quickly announces with a grin, “me and sunoo tried cooking this time and i swear, we didn’t burn anything and it actually tastes—“

“don’t care. let me sleep.”

“but hyung the—“

*snores*

sunghoon sighs, “alright, it’s time we pull out the big guns.”

by that, they mean forcing you to come over there in exchange for some of the boys’ homemade dinner

jungwon and sunghoon watch from the doorway as you tiptoe over to the bed, doing what you do best: tricking your boyfriend

“pretty boy,” you whisper, tracing down his sharp jawline with a feathering touch

and like that, jay starts stirring, eyes eventually fluttering open

“oh, so i have to slap him, but they just cARess his face and suddenly he’s rising and shining— ow!” sunghoon groans when jungwon elbows him into the wall to shut him up

jay yawns, “y/n? what’re you doing here?”

he reaches up to give you a peck, and you nearly coo at his raven hair all tangled cutely

“wanted to have dinner with you guys,” you lie, grabbing his hand to pull him up

“yeah but i was napping..” he protests childishly, making jungwon roll his eyes in the background

it was rare for jay to have his baby moments, but it happens !!

you continue rubbing his hand, “well you also have to eat babe, and i’m gonna be here too.”

at that, he sighs, but gets up from bed, stretching with a yawn

“hallelujah!” sunghoon cheers, prancing over to give you a high five

jungwon groans, “what would we do without you y/n”

jay is just 🧍

“aish.. you were forced here to wake me up weren’t you?”

all three of you make nervous eye contact before running off to the kitchen jungwon claps his hand at last, “who’s ready to have the most life changing meal of your lives?”

// SIM JAEHYUN !

jake’s a little shy about it

but if someone takes something of his he will definitely go D:

he does a little pout!!

and if it’s something that he absolutely REFUSES to share

like a straw

then he’ll be like “ay that’s mine, go get your own!!” in a half joking, jake way y'know?

but when it comes to you…

he cant say no to your cute face <3

everything jake owns? yours

congrats you have a whole second closet now

want some of his food? take the whole plate !!

he even calls you layla’s other parent despite being very very protective of her :(((

thats when you knew you’re extremely special to him !

jake’s just peacefully lying on the couch, waiting for you to finish up showering

when all of a sudden heeseung strolls in, humming as he goes to fill up a glass of water in the kitchen

as jake was about to greet him, his brows furrow at the sight of a familiar logo on the back of the older boy’s green shirt

“hyung..?” he calls suspiciously

“hmm?”

“is that my shirt?”

heeseung looks down for a moment, scanning his outfit before shrugging

“maybe. found it on the floor,” the older replies

jake just frowns

“bro, i don’t wanna share shirts with you! you’re always sweaty as hell after playing league until 3am!”

heeseung takes a leisurely sip of his water, uncaring of the whiney younger boy on the couch, “well too bad. stop leaving your shit on the floor then.”

before jake can give him another pouty complaint, the sound of a yawn coming out of his room leads both boy’s to turn and investigate

a huge smile rushes to jake’s face at the sight of you in one of his t-shirts just like heeseung, the soft white fabric overflowing down your thighs

“angel! is that my shirt?” he giggles cutely

“uh yeah, is that okay?”

“what, of course! you look adorable, c’mere angel,” your boyfriend demands with grabby hands, ignoring heeseung’s disbelieving eye roll nearby

“but when i wear your shirt it’s the end of the goddamn world, huh?”

you snicker quietly as you walk over to jake, letting him pull you in for a kiss

jake smirks, “mhm, now give it back or i’m eating all our ramen without you.”

“you wouldn’t..”

“try me, hyung~”

then he sticks his tongue out in his classic jake way 💪

// PARK SUNGHOON !

getting straight to the point here

when someone touches sunghoon he’s immediately on guard

he’s a lot better with those who are close to him, but he still gets a bit stiff and awkward

and with strangers.. he’ll just try and find an escape right away

this goes especially for his facial area

he will not hesitate to swat anyone’s hand away or flinch in annoyance if they try to pinch his cheeks or poke his nose >:(

similarLY to how sunoo was now

“i saw you blushing when that engene in the front row called you hot~” the younger boy snickers, “you’ve been an idol for two years now, and you’re still not used to that?”

then suddenly hoon’s cheeks are being pushed together, making his lips form a pout

“our sunghoonie is so cute~”

his hand is quickly slapped away 😒

“ow!”

before sunoo can even complain you’re rushing into the dressing room with a vip pass around your neck, running over to give your boyfriend a hug

sunoo watches with a pout as you cup sunghoon’s jaw, reaching up to give him a peck

“you did amazing as usual, i’m so proud!”

yeah

contrary to pretty much everyone else, sunghoon wants your touch and enjoys it thoroughly <3

in your hold, he’s completely relaxed; pushing his cheek further into your hand as he wraps his arms around you

“thank you,” he whispers with a cheeky grin

feeling playful, you even go to pinch his cheeks

and instead of getting mad the boy just gigGLES like a whipped idiot

sunoo crosses his arms, “what!? no fair!”

hoon kinda forgot his bandmate was there to witness everything 🧌

“yah, why’re you still there?” he barks, “shoo!”

you purse your lips to hold in your laugh, waving bye to the sulking boy who only rolls his eyes

you snicker once he’s gone, “so.. what was that about?”

sunghoon sighs, “don’t worry about it..” you raise a brow when he scoops you up, placing you on the makeup table, “now, where were we? celebrating how good i did, right ;)”

// KIM SUNOO !

this one’s a lil’ hard because sunshine is kinda bad at saying no and lets his members get away with a bit toO much

but he still tries to be is very strict when it comes to paying for things because why should he be paying for niki’s new pokemon game ??

of course if it’s his members birthday, an occasional treat, or maybe if he lost a bet it’d be an exception

but besides that he’s pretty good at not falling for the members puppy eyes and pouty whining

this of course isn’t the same for you

you’re literally the love of his life!! his partner of COUrse he has to spoil you and buy you absolutely everything you want >:(

sunoo will literally tell you beforehand to not let him sEe your wallet on dates or he’ll get upset

(even though when he becomes all pouty you only think he’s adorable)

sunoo would be doing his skincare

having the time of his life y’know putting his face mask on and—

“hyung, can you—“ before he can even finish, riki starts CACKLING and sunoo already knows it’s because of his green face mask ..

“you— you look like-“ he snorts, “the little green guy from monsters inc-“

sunoo slaps his arm, “yah, i do not. what do you want, brat?”

the younger boy grins, staring at him through the mirror

“so… splatoon 3 came out and..”

“absolutely not”

riki gAsps in offense, “why not!? it’s only like 90$!”

“do i look like your mom?”

“kinda—“

“shut up. go ask jake hyung, you know he can’t say no to you”

then suddenly

you, who was on your boyfriend’s bed waiting for his return, prance into the bathroom as well

“sunnie guess what!?”

sunoo smiles brightly at your arrival, pausing his ministrations to meet your eyes

“hmm?”

you grab his arm, shaking him back and forth, “seventeen is coming on tour here next month! we have to get tickets!”

he gasps, “really!? okay, i’ll get us tickets tonight!”

but then riki.. 🧌

“hyung, why will you buy y/n a concert ticket but i can’t get a game?”

“because they’re y/n and you’re riki ☺️”

ouch <\3

// YANG JUNGWON !

AWHhh won’s the cutest with giving you privilege T-T

there’s a lot of super small things that you might not even notice

like letting you touch his dimples, wear his clothes or play with his hair

you may not realise your privilege ‘cause if anyone else did those things he proBably wouldn’t say anything

because he’s jungwon

BUT when you do it he genuinely encourages you and gets all giggly <3

one thing you’ve definitely noticed though is how protective wonnie tends to get over you compared to others

he’s already quite protective of the people he loves as is

but 99% of the time he won’t mention or say anything if an issue comes up:

say an interviewer makes a comment he doesn’t approve of

some backhanded compliment to one of his members

or maybe a joke gone too far

he isn’t the type to say something rude in response or bring it up off camera, at most the interviewer would receive a very harsh glare and frown

when it comes to his partner though..

no no absolutely nOt.

you are his responsibility!! his person, his love and therefore he will not hesitate to defend you and fight anyone who dares to bring a tear to your face

suddenly his normal coherent thoughts of ‘it’s okay jungwon, don’t say anything, be professional’ FLIES OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE no. he will not accept this

for example!!

one day you and won were going on a cute lil picnic in the park <3

you decided to wear a skirt for the heck of it, thinking it’d look cute especially with the picnic idea and the weather getting a tad warmer

so once you’re both out of the car, jungwon holding the basket of pastries while you carried the drinks and blanket, you were both pretty sure nothing could ruin the cheery mood

jungwon even complimed your skirt, mentioning how he thought it suited you perfect :D

“wah, i’ve been wanting to have a picnic all year. really, this is gonna be perfect!” your boyfriend says cheekily

“mhm, next time we should bring mauemi though!”

you wait for jungwon’s reply with a smile, but it quickly drops when you look up to see an old woman on a bench staring at you as if you’d done something terrible, her wrinkly face pulled into a displeased frown

brows furrowing, you follow her gaze to your bare legs, a tug of insecurity forming in your stomach as she scans you up and down

“..and the squirrels would be perfect to chase—“ jungwon pauses when he glances over at you, worry increasing as he notices your visibly deflated expression, “jagi?”

his eyes follow yours, widening when he sees the lady send you daggers from across the park

jungwon’s brows furrow, holding your hand tighter with every step you take closer to her

if it was anyone else, he knew that he wouldn’t say a thing; probably brush it off, maybe send her a frown back

but he simply can’t help the words that tumble from his mouth, “is something wrong, ma’am?”

your eyes widen right away because wonnie nEver has the guts to call people out like that usually???

ESPEcially not an elderly person ..

of course, the old woman only scoffs rudely in response, muttering something in a malicious tone under her breath

the boy holding your hand smirks in satisfaction and you sigh, quickly leading him away as fast as possible

“yah, why’d you do that?!” you whisper-yell

he gives you an obvious glance, “because i didn’t like how she looked at you”

jungwon looks cute 99% of the time, but at that moment with the harsh glare on his face, he’s a bit intimidating even to you <\3

you gulp, “still..”

“no, y/n,” he interrupts sternly, “i refuse to let my pretty s/o stay upset when there’s something i can do about it”

with that, jungwon places down the picnic basket and starts pulling out your snacks like nothing happened <3

“so, what should we eat first?” :D

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

sigh.

now for this boy your partner privilege is THROUGH THE ROof okay

the difference in how he treats you to everyone else??

literally anyone can see the difference even if it’s their first time meeting you guys

riki’s a combo of all the previous ones

lets u wake him up whenever and even interrupt him while dancing/gaming

definitely gives u all the pda u want but if anyone else tries it he may bite them

and ofc defends you withOut hesitation even if it’s just some lame joke he will roast them right back mf !!!

the most noticeable point though is for sure how a majority of the time he listens to whatever you say ON THE FIRST TRY

it’s ‘majority of the time’ because if he didn’t annoy you at least a bit that wouldn’t be riki

it could be something so small

sunghoon and you would be chilling on the couch, then he’d see riki walk in

“yah, can you get me a water?”

mans gets ignored as niki pUshes him over to sit next to you instead

“no, i’m lazy.”

sunghoon just rolls his eyes, meanwhile you were on your phone; completely oblivious to the conversation as you reach over to kiss the younger boy’s cheek

“babe, can you go grab me a drink please?”

bro SPRINTS to the kitchen without another word 🧌

nobody knows why he’s so enthusiastic to serve you but !!

sunghoon is tempted to call him a simp

or exhibit b

you’re at the dorms watching jake and niki play some video game

or at least. they were supposed to be playing together

but apparently it was a single player game and your boyfriend was being a bit of a hog judging by how they were practically wrestling on the carpet for the controller 😟

then after a while longer jake desperately calls out for you

“y/nnn he won’t give me a turn!”

you realise at that moment that this is what having kids must feel like

meanwhile riki gives u that innocent look as if he did nothing

you sigh, “yah, give jake a turn. haven’t you been playing for like 15 minutes straight?”

jake nods furiously in agreement

he pouts, “well yeah but..”

you give him the stink eye

aaand he passes the controller over without any more complaints <\3

jake lets out a vEry sarcastic thank you while riki wanders all the way over to you and plops down in your embrace like a whiny toddler

then he just looks up at you from your lap

“you look pretty today.”

jake groans in the background while you nearly choke

“all of a sudden??”

“yeah,” he replies simply, “i don’t mind giving up my spot to jake ‘cause i have a much better view now~”

what will you do with this boy 😞

if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments r always appreciated!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

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[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")