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#every scene is just the characters going from one place to another to have more dialogue.
gabriellaeva2005 · 3 days
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I really cannot express how much this piece of work means to me! As corny as it sounds I really found this story at the perfect point in my life, I initially started reading the impulse 1995 comics when I was 14 and I ended up falling upon this story when I was 17 I just immediately fell in love! The concept was so creative and fit into the pre-existing plot line perfectly! All the new characters are so enjoyable to read, Nathaniel and Jude have such a wonderful and also sad dynamic, as a twin my self every scene with them just really hit me in the heart! Six especially in the first several chapters was so comically annoying and clearly insecure, in a way that I think a lot of us can relate to, one way or another especially when we got to here is internal monologue, I’ve always been a sucker for the asshole character with an air of insouciance and superiority, who by the end of the story, just ends up being a pretty all right guy! And Five oh my god five! I love this guy so much! he’s just so genuine and someone who clearly cares deeply, and him being technically the physically oldest in the room, but also being the one with the least amount of experience is a very literal take on an experience I think a lot of people have felt, myself included, And I think we all know I’m a Three apologist, his whole story is just so devastating and haunting, part of me is always rooting for him, whilst also being terrified for what he might do to the other characters, there is so much complexity with his relationships with the other characters, such as five and four, every time theirs a seen with three and four the writing always makes me feel so on edge and is really able to puts me in three’s shoes! And god! The way three and five interact is so sweet and sad there relationship is just too much! The last chapter absolutely destroyed me!! And Bart and Thad are so perfectly characterized it truly just feels like a natural progression of their characters, the way they both are just really struggling to deal with the inevitability of change hit me so hard, like I said I started reading the impulse comics when I was 14 so these characters have such a place in my heart, so now being able to read about them going through these struggles, when I was also experiencing a lot of change, is such a comfort to me, it was like in a way these characters got older with me, and you know it’s always nice to see some of your childhood characters going through the same stuff as you, currently being a slightly terrified 18 year old, it was great to be able to read about two other slightly terrified 18 year olds, anyways I wanted to post some of my sketches from the past few weeks, and don’t worry there are definitely more to come cause I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop drawing these guys!
@cryptocism you really sent me on a journey, thank you for that!💖💖
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padawansuggest · 2 days
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Real take: I like Star Wars. I like the prequels because they have more fleshed out world building than the originals. I like the originals because it has a compelling storyline and character building. I like the cartoons because they do things that live action cannot. I like the children’s show Young Jedi Adventures and I think it’s both cute, extremely full of world building, and it’s designed to bring back the cartoon storyline of learning a lesson every episode that young children can relate to. I like the Mandalorian because it took a species with exactly two known people from it, and added a third, but made them a baby, and they were cute, and it shows the morals of Mandalorian adoption and love for children. I love Ahsoka because it took a favorite cartoon series and not only brought it to life, but also it’s funny and very full of world building for both the New Republic Rebellion scene, as well as more Dathomirian nightsister lore. I love a lot of other Star Wars off-shoots because they gave good storylines, they try to bridge plotholes, and a lot of amazing characters and new places to play with. I adore, fucking love, would give my life for Star Wars Visions; the lore and new concepts alone have captivated me and I can and HAVE made posts about things Visions did that no other SW series has touched and I’m so obsessed with the force and it’s aspects as well as just species and such you have no idea I would sell any of you for SW Visions. In fact, I would sell any of you for Young Jedi Adventures too. The worldbuilding alone for those two series is enough to have me vibrating with excitement with every episode. Sometimes I rewatch episodes of them just for random juicy facts that I can use for fics.
But you know why I don’t tell people I like Star Wars in real life? People always lookin at something they hate, and the most incel take on it is that it’s got too many women now. But irl non-fandom people who just want to ‘enjoy the ambiance of the original trilogy’ and me do not get along because they actually hate Star Wars. They genuinely hate Star Wars.
I can give you 50 plot lines in various sections of canon and legends that boiled my blood (tho not that one time Anakin at 12 literally boiled a man’s blood inside his body, that was hilarious his eyes turned black like a demons I’m so obsessed with him), but I’m not gonna talk about those.
Aren’t you exhausted? Wouldn’t it be nicer to gush about how amazing a certain costume design was? How the implications of a certain species makes you so excited you could burst? Wouldn’t you like to talk about how that one character just doesn’t get enough love and it wasn’t because they were fridged it was just because they didn’t get enough love from the fans for being black or female or disabled or something?
I am going to tell you this now, and you’re gonna hate me for it but I’m right: if you didn’t like Mortis because you think the force Doesn’t Work Like That? You don’t like Star Wars.
I’m tired of interacting with comments on commercials because it’s full of idiots crying about more women, a black character, the fact that ‘oh that wouldn’t happen’ as if the High Republic era didn’t literally have some sort of fucked up midichlorian vampire roaming the outer rim killing anyone force sensitive. Obviously they def would have acolytes set before the prequels shove it up your ass.
Anyways. Stop talking about what you hate. Yes, I get it. We are tired of rote pumped stories, but that doesn’t change the fact that there will ALWAYS be someone who hates the story you love, and loves the story you hate. You cannot please everyone, and I for one have found just about all off-shoot SW series individualized and compelling in some way or another.
You know what I did when I starting hating about 90% of all new Marvel movies? I stopped watching them. If I want back in the fandom I have older ones I can watch or simply only interact with fics.
Because Marvel, as much as they Need To Calm Their Shit, isn’t about me, and it isn’t for me anymore.
But I think a lot of you hate so much Star Wars content that you truly need to stop interacting with the series. It’s not for you anymore. And just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not real SW. Not sorry, but this ain’t your scene anymore and you need to find a new one.
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magicxc · 22 hours
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Frenemies
Pairings: Survey Corps - people they cannot STAND
Word Count: 1076
Warnings: none
A/N: Idk man I love a good tussle jskksks. Like give me two characters who absolutely hate each other! And with AOT I really don't have to look too far, yay. This is basically canon but it's funny to think about so here it is as well. 
Eren  - Jean, Weak People
I think the Jean one gets over exaggerated a little, and for good reason too, cause the girlies be EATING with those tropes. But at the end of the day they have a mutual understanding and are cordial at best. They're mostly cool because they share mutual friends and spaces but it’s no longer beef per se. 
Hear me out, I don't think anyone wiping out 80% of humanity is willing to kick it with people who aint about it. Mans need someone who’s willing to stand on business behind him. Even throughout the show he’s always admitted to not liking people who’s willing to live like “livestock.” So this is not to be confused with physically weak people by the way but psychologically weak people. Essentially Eren has beef if you’re willing to take it lying down. 
Levi - Zeke
Listennnn I LIVE for their fight scenes okay lmao. Like it's almost always on sight for them and their lil jabs at one another? It’s chucklessss for me omg. Lets be clear, their beef is absolutely warranted. It can be safely argued that Levi doesnt really care for most people but Zeke?? Oh baby its all smoke for him. 
Erwin - The Government 
I swear if it wasn't for the literal fate of humanity and his brewing theory Erwin would've just said fuck it cause baybeeee, they wanted that man GONE. They've tried to get him fired, pointed guns in his face, and built a whole ass guillotine to unalive him; in front of the entire town mind you. Maybe that was the custom back then I don't know. I don’t remember Erwin outright saying that he doesn't fuck with the government but fuck it, I’ll say it for him. Cause I'll stand ten toes down behind this one here. 
Connie - Ymir
I promise you I let out a nasty ole chuckle at the thought cause he don't even dislike her fr fr. I think it's a situation similar to Eren and Jean's in the sense that their friends and environment often see them in the same places. Because if we’re being real, not only do they have little in common but they just don't really vibe like that. I think they could've been a little more cordial but Ymir be on her own timing and it's usually at the expense of the squad. Like when she made fun of Connie for suspecting his mother was a titan or when she kidnapped Historia like 3 times and put them all in danger. And I can't even be mad at Connie for being the voice of reason cause him calling her ugly was simply the truth. I, too, reared back when I first saw Ymir's titan form. 
Jean - Eren, Reiner, Annie, Bertholt
The whole Eren thing is basically squashed but it’s worth noting that if he were to see him in public, he’d walk the other way. 
I lowkey had to dig deep for this one cause I genuinely forgot. But even though they’re all kumbaya now, those three bitches literally watched his homie get half his face chewed off by a titan. Jean is absolutely pouring one out for Marco every birthday by the way, but yeahh it’s still fuck them. Like if they were playing uno stacked, he’d save all his draw 4’s and make them draw 16. 
Onyankopon - Yelena
I'm not too sure that Ony dislikes anyone honestly. But I'm going with Yelena here mostly because she’s the reason he found himself in his current predicament. On what was supposed to be a solid plan in motion to save his people quickly turned into Ony modernizing a primitive people, helping build their resources from scratch, having people question his race (and I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar it was mfs that got ignorant), seeming untrustworthy among his peers, almost getting killed, fighting in a war he had nothing to do with, and probably losing his entire family in the rumble. Now, one or two of those things were inevitable, but if you were to view things from Ony’s POV everything went to shit over a bitch with a fatal attraction to a man with daddy issues. 
Reiner - Himself
Lmaooo I LOVE a good Reiner drag. And while this started out as a joke, I'm deadass now. This man stays talking about wanting to end it all but never follows through, smh. With lots of therapy and support, I genuinely think that Reiner would be on the road to recovery and a healthy lifestyle; but there’ll always be that lingering thought on if he’s worth it or not
Honorable mention: Ymir. But solely because she would get in the way of his fantasy life with Historia. 
Armin - Floch? 
This munchkin is damn near Tanjiro levels of sweet cause omg who does he even hate??? He is always looking for the good in people and I'm about to dislocate my shoulder reaching this hard BUT, hear me out - It’s Floch even if he doesn’t outright say it. The same Floch who damaged the flying boat and almost ruined their mission before it even started? The same Floch who fucked it up so bad that Hange had to sacrifice herself which resulted in Armin taking on an even bigger responsibility? The same Floch who got in a lil too close with his bestie Eren? Close enough to be trusted with his future plans? The same Floch who when he lay on that ground bleeding Armin was nowhere in sight? Even at the port where they attacked the Yeagerists and Armin got shot in the face, he pleaded with his old comrades to stand down but Floch is beneath that level of reasoning huh? Whether Armin despises Floch or not it's safe to say if Floch were getting jumped, Armin would definitely sneak in a kick before helping. 
Floch - Erwin
This is literally one of those cases where its like I disagree but I understand lol. That man legit made them do a suicide charge and yeah he lead the charge blah blah blah but I could never be that brave. And so that resentment is understandable but in all fairness it shaped Flochs character for the better to be honest; cause that whole pwussy boi arc was annoying. 
Also adding the main cast of the Scouts lmao. They thwarted his plans and he spent his DYING breath standing on business. Gotta respect it.
Tags - @eveningatthemoviesnetwork
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spnfanficpond · 3 days
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SPN Rewatch: Fanfic Edition
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Our goal is to rewatch the show with fanfic writing in mind. We want to look for all the places in canon where we could add a scene, show a scene from a certain character’s point of view, or change something to make things turn out differently. (We may also critique what the show writers did; that seems inevitable.)
Episodes we're discussing: 2.09 Croatoan and 2.10 Hunted
What time will it be for you:
UTC - Saturday 21:00
Los Angeles - Saturday 2pm
New York - Saturday 5pm
London - Saturday 10pm
New Delhi - Sunday 2:30am
Melbourne - Sunday 7am
Who’s invited? All Pond members, including Turtles! You don’t have to be a writer to have an opinion on the episodes that could inspire a writer! Everyone has valuable opinions about the show and could spark conversation and inspiration.
Where will we meet? In the discord server. There is a special channel for us to chat in so we don’t disturb other chats happening at the same time.
How does it work? On our own, whenever we have time, we all watch two episodes of SPN. At the appointed time, we all get together and chat about them. Although we have several questions to consider and creative ideas for you to do if you want, there is no pressure to actually have answers to these questions or have created anything prior to the chat. Didn’t get to watch them? No biggie! We’ve all watched these episodes enough that we can probably talk about them without rewatching them!
More info under the cut!
What questions should we consider while we watch? We have a few questions you can keep in mind while you’re watching the episodes:
Are there any “fanfiction gaps” in this episode? Any places between scenes where a juicy story could happen? (For example, one scene ends at night, but the next scene begins during the day, and what did they do with all of that time?)
How would the episode be different if you changed one thing? What is changed is up to you. It could be as complex as a character making a different choice, or as simple or silly as someone wearing a funny hat throughout part or all of the episode.
What about this episode would you like to see happen differently? How would making that change affect future episodes?
List any parts of each episode that you think could be jumping-off points for a fic. Like, in the pilot, how did Sam meet their friend who was in the bar with them?
How would the episode be different if there were another character involved like a reader insert character?
Do any of the themes we've already discussed in The Archive (See the bottom of the doc under the heading "Thematic docs") show up in this episode? Does this episode bring up any new themes we should be watching out for in the future?
What else can we do before the chat? You can add any notes you have about the episodes we'll be discussing to The Archives! In addition, besides just discussing the fanfiction possibilities in every episode, we also want to encourage you to create things centered around the episodes we’re discussing and share them with the rest of us. Things like:
Write some meta about some part of the episode. What does this episode show us about one or more of the characters?
Write a fic based on the episode. Share a link to your fic in the discussion and we can talk about it!
Make a playlist that you feel reflects the mood of the episode.
Make some art or a photo collage or edits to go along with the episode.
We look forward to seeing everything you create! Be sure to tag us so we can reblog your work!
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Have questions about this or anything else? Send us an ASK or send a private message to one of the admins below!
Admins:
Michelle - @mrswhozeewhatsis
Marie - @mariekoukie6661
MJ - @thoughtslikeaminefield
Mana - @manawhaat (Founder and Admin Emeritus)
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moodr1ng · 7 months
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ummm ive been working on a comic project for 2 years and while writing it just now i think i finally realized this doesnt work as a comic and its either a novel or a visual novel (probably the latter bc its very visual). ummmmm. i dont like that
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automatic-midnight · 27 days
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My biased, really unpopular take is that I think rit/su/maya is an objectively boring ship.
#just to be clear I don’t hate it there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the ship it’s just such a nothing burger to me#like ok yes without a doubt Maya has a crush on Ritusko absolutely this is backed up by canon material#but from Ritsukos side the most the viewer comes away with is that Ritsuko holds mayas skills in decently high regard#a few moments of friendly chit chat and that’s it#it would be one thing if we actually saw Ritsukos more personal opinions on Maya but we never see that so fandom has to fill in the blanks#and now barring that all aside it’s just a ship dynamic even when fleshed out in fanon that im not intrigued by#in a show where the characters are so messy and terrible the ship feels so out of place#ohhhh Maya could fix Ritsuko NO she could not#the only way I could find the ship interesting is if you get weird with it#like focus on the inherent power imbalance of a boss and an employee how would they deal with that?#how would things change as the show progresses and Maya realizes Rituskos blurred morals#how would the ship work with Gendo in the picture? how would Maya actually help ritusko overcome her issues and deep rooted problems#and even with all that being said it’s just not interesting to me#Maya doesn’t have enough going as a character for me to care to ship her with Ritsuko#this is partly why I like misaritsu so much#you know so much about their individual characters and their dynamics that it’s easy to expand it further into hypothesizing#their relationship in a romantic light#evangelion#like misato and Ritsuko are individually super well written fleshed our characters and on top of that put in moments like the elevator scene#or Ritsukos flashback to talking about when Misato hooked up with Kaji for a week#or just every time Ritsuko looks at Misato if you really want to reach#there so many moments of good characterization between them that it’s so easy to ship them#the point I’ll give to ritsu/Maya is that the one sided crush is 100% intentional and implied in canon#Misato and Ritsukos relationship (as far as I’m aware) was never intended to be romantic or queer coded or anything like that#i’m not delusional#I don’t think anno or sadamoto was writing subtextual nuclear toxic yuri when they were thinking about Misato and ritsukos relationship#no one was in the writing room saying “oh boy I can’t wait to write subtext about how comphet Ritsuko is in unrequited love with Misato”#I’m not that far gone but purely from a potential ship perspective misaritsu has so much more going for it#asu/rei too that’s another super interesting f/f ship that people ignore#asurei isn’t my do or die ship but that’s a ship that’s genuinely super interesting to think about as a potential romantic relationship
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how to go from daydream to draft:
begin by daydreaming as you normally do, or just after you've finished doing so. write down every thought you have. one after another. do not reread. do not stop for spelling mistakes. just dump out every thought. this is called stream of consciousness writing. you can do this for every scene you need a first draft for.
struggling to draft the scene? try to daydream about it. start thinking about how it would look, feel, what the characters would say, act it out in your head and then write out the stream of your thoughts as they arrive.
by now you have a few scene dumps. you may be tempted to go back and edit. do not do this expect for obvious spelling mistakes. do not read closely and start thinking "i need to rework this sentence." that is for later. now you're in the zone. draft more scenes. or work out what the next scene needs to be, scaffold it with a few comments. this will be the inspiration for your next deliberate thought stream that you will write out. repeat this process until you have the whole draft.
now that you have a draft or part of a draft you get to do this very fun thing called revise until you're happy. sweep through your draft with specific goals each time. one sweep to fix spelling/grammar. another for character voice. another for plot. repeat until you're happy with it.
leave it alone. just leave it for a bit. at least a few hours or days or even weeks. forget it exists. this will allow you come back with fresh eyes. then you can do your revisions with an eagle eye. now you may realize you need to add/remove scenes. you know how to get the first version down. close your eyes and daydream at your desk if that's what takes!
remember that fiction writing is persuasive writing. you are trying to persuade the reader to care about what happens next, the character's, the world, the feelings. as you're revising, consider whether you are persuaded. is the feeling/thoughts you wanted to provoke being felt by you when you read it? when working with beta readers, be sure to communicate what you're trying to convey so they can tell you if you've been successful or not.
this got a bit beyond getting the first draft done. hope you found it helpful.
bonus tip: check the spellings of names and places and other nouns that are not typically used, like the name of a magic tool!
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ao3commentoftheday · 3 months
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Bear with me here because I might end up torturing this particular metaphor, but when it comes to trying to get the image of a scene onto the page in the form of descriptive narrative, it might be useful to approach it like a visual artist.
If you've ever watched an artist do their thing (or if you're an artist yourself), you know that they don't just start at the top left corner of the page and draw the entire scene in all its detail, all in one go. I'm going to use an example of digital drawing with the use of software like Photoshop here because I have no idea if this metaphor will work with pencil and paper.
You have an image in your head. It might be super clear. It might be more vague. When you're starting to describe it, just sketch it in. Create a layer of broad strokes information like what the location is, how many people are in it, and what activity is happening.
Then add in a layer - whichever one is easiest. Let's pretend it's the location. Read through the sketch that you currently have and see where you have opportunities to describe the location. You don't have to front load everything at the top of the chapter, for example. You can add in details about the location as the characters move through it.
Add another layer. Are the characters' appearances different from what they previous were? Are you just establishing them at the start of the story? Do they have a "uniform" that they wear in canon that you've opted not to change? You can add in whatever details here you want, and again don't feel like you have to put it all in the same place. You can talk about a ponytail falling loose partway through an action. Or wait until someone else comments on a character's new pair of shoes.
Add another layer. What are the characters doing? How are they moving? Interacting?
Another layer. What are they saying? How do they sound?
Another layer. What other sounds are in the room? What smells? Do these change? Appear or disappear?
Keep going back and forth, toggling your way through your layers, adding things in here and removing them there. Every artist knows that sometimes a line just doesn't go in the right place and you have to erase it and draw it again.
Remember that no amount of work will give your reader a perfect representation of the vision in your mind, but also please know that that's okay.
By the time you finish your scene, some of those early layers might not exist anymore, and that's okay too. They were the sketch that started your verbal drawing. The base you used to guide your inks. Your final render won't have every line or brush stroke in it, and it'll be all the better for it in the end.
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atlabeth · 3 months
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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
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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. 
2K notes · View notes
romanoffsbish · 5 months
Text
Method Acting
Scarlett Johansson x F!R
Request | When your friend gives you the leading role in her debut sapphic rom-com you find yourself elated, but then you see who her star-studded casting managed to be and suddenly you aren’t too sure what to do. How does one work with their crush in such intimate ways and not swoon further? | WC: 2,516
Smut: Masturbation (R) — Non-con 👀 (SJ) | Mommy (SJ) | Oral / Fingering (R) | Thigh-Riding (SJ) | Overstimulation (R)
18+ | Minors DNI
Tumblr media
"Where'd all that confidence go, hm?" You gulped, not only to remain in character, but because Scarlett was literally hovering over your body and it was like the air around you'd thinned. Your head felt light, but you still managed to stutter out your line, "I-It was a r-ruse."
Bentley chuckled, "You know, I don't think I mind," then she lowered her smirking face into the crook of your neck, your breath dramatically hitched, and you threw your head back to give her the necessary space to leave behind her pale pink gloss for the camera to see.
——
This was meant to be acting, but she wasn't exactly not sucking a partial mark into your skin, fortunately it was hidden from any lens viewpoint, and it only really added to the scene as you moaned out affectedly.
"There you go Raina," she rasped against your cheek, smearing her collected spit and gloss on the skin. "I knew you'd be a perfect little dove for your mommy, you just needed me to help dumb you down, hm..."
You whimpered the title inquisitively, giving off the characters innocent girl aura as her lips clashed into yours, but deep in your soul you wanted to scream it.
Well, for the blonde starlet that is, Scarlett was nothing short of a goddess, her beauty perceivably effortless. It came with many perks, one of those being the ability to have people figuratively crumble before her. You had actually done so physically when you first shook her hand, it was embarrassing and she's teased you since.
When she wasn't teasing you though she was a natural nurturer. There was a calmness she brought to your anxious life that you were going to miss when filming inevitably comes to an end. Which was actually taking place this week, today you were working on the climax.
Bentley, her character, finally had a chance to corner Raina so that she could finally prove her love with the length of her fingers. Up until now your character had been avoiding Bentley as they were forced to see one another at the weekend long reception of a mutual.
Maritza, the director, screenwriter, and best friend of yours wanted the sex to feel real, so she is letting you two feel it out in a set of scenes. Scarlett appreciated the artistic creativity, because she wanted nothing more than to bring you to bliss, even if only fictionally as she knew the cameras were rolling. You genuinely liked the idea of an organic, sapphic scene too, but you just wished it could have been with any other actress.
Not the one you were recklessly falling in love with.
"Cut!" The director called after she felt there was enough tension, and kissing caught for the scene. She was also your very best friend, and knew you were likely spiraling beneath the surface; below Scarlett.
As soon as the director gave you the all clear for the night you took off without even sparing the blonde a glance. Months on this set with her and she'd teased you every step of the way, playing on your obvious crush, the one you'd publicized just a year ago.
"Y/N, who's your celebrity crush?" It was an easy question to answer, and since you were such a newcomer in the acting world it felt harmless to give them one, "Scarlett Johansson, she is just so gorgeous, and that voice of hers is just, ugh, don't even get me started." Or so you thought. Because not even three months later did you find out she'd be playing the love interest in this low-budget, cheesy sapphic rom-com.
The blonde was absolutely ecstatic when she got the script in her email because it came with your name attached. This was your closest friend's script, so you were given the lead without any issues, except for the casting. Without you ever knowing she took a shot in the dark by sending it to the woman who'd grown interested in you the moment she saw you in that interview. When you got the casting news you were mortified, and the blonde used that to her advantage.
There was no denying you meant it when she arrived on set for the chemistry read through, you were a bit of a stuttering mess—true to the character, but it was clear to the blonde that you were just being yourself. Scarlett played the part a bit too well, but she still kept it hidden that she desired you too. Until tonight she'd believed it was never going to go anywhere, but then you moaned in her ear and she realized it had to.
You weren't the only one affected by the small scene.
Scarlett was outside your trailer, her fingers flexed against the chill of the air as she prepared herself to knock on your door. It was Thursday night, normally she would go home, but she knew you were staying on the lot to cut costs so she felt compelled to stop by.
Without an answer she took it upon herself to open the door, noting her worry as the excuse for why she did. When she entered the trailer she was overwhelmed by a heady scent, and as she turned the corner to find you with your hand buried between your legs she'd found the delightful source. Scarlett said nothing as her body leaned against the wall, eyes focused in on the way your puffy lips devoured three of your fingers whole.
"Scarlett..."
The blonde's eyes snapped up to your face, fearing that she'd been caught, but it proved to be the other way around as you moaned her name upon releasing.
"My character's name is Bentley," she cooly teased, startling you into yelping and scrambling to grab the blanket that had bunched up by the end of your bed. Scarlett beat you to it, taking a predatory leap forward so that she could keep you from hiding your body. "None of that baby girl, don't hide from me now."
"S-Scar," you breathlessly muttered her name, or better yet part of it as she cupped your jaw and kissed you into a state of stunned silence. "Let's practice our scene for tomorrow darling, make it extra authentic."
"I-I don't think—." Scarlett slipped her thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your teeth to still you. "Oh, pretty girls like you should never try to think."
When she released her grip on your mouth she'd forcefully pushed you back onto the mattress, making your body bounce and driving your mind into madness all while she slipped out of her sweatsuit. The arousal you'd already felt doubled in intensity, mind alit with the endless possibilities for how this could go. Your mouth slowly filled with saliva as she sauntered closer to you while only dressed in her expensive lingerie set.
"You're so beautiful," you softly acknowledged and she offered you a genuine smile in return. Her lips gently pressed to yours as soon as she climbed over you and you both melted at the touch. "Thank you angel."
Scarlett took her time with kissing you, she didn't even move to deepen it until she felt your slick on her skin.
"I'm going to devour you Raina," she winked playfully and you met her tease with a smile that warmed her heart. "Make my dreams come true then Bentley."
Something about hearing her characters name didn't sit well with her, even if she had started the play on words, joking shoved aside she needed you to know this was more than a over the top scene preparation.
Scarlett pulled your body down the mattress by your ankles, throwing your legs open she took in a big whiff as her nose nuzzled into your plush thigh. "It seems I'll be making both of ours come true," she laboredly breathed against your slick cunt, "Just as long as you know there's no copyright on Scarlett," she winked and husked as your eyes widened, "Scream it for me Y/N."
"Oh Scarlett," you cried as soon as her tongue firmed itself against your folds, a long, drawn out moan left her as she tasted your glorious slick for the first time. The both of you were immensely pleased, your body began to squirm the more you felt your orgasm build. Her arm had to lay against your abdomen to hold you down so that her tongue could lash at you unchecked.
Your pleasure was entirely under her control, and the thought alone had the both of you teetering over the edge, ready to fall further into one another. Scarlett was unsure how that was even possible though, she'd loved you after a month into the filming, on a night when cast and crew rented out the local bar and she actually went regardless of her star power status. It was the only time you'd talked to her so openly, the booze in your system dropped your nerves and you let her hear all of your hometown childhood stories.
There was a twinkle of purity in your eye that she found refreshing that night, but this new glossy look you wore was far more enticing to the blonde starlet.
You looked almost peaceful, but beneath the surface you were absolutely losing your mind. Her masterful tongue was showing your fingers up in real time, your hot slick flowing out of you as if you were a leaking faucet, slowly dripping down from her chin and settling atop of the exposed skin of her bare breasts.
Which only made her move with more efficiency, her tongue slowly curled inside of you, caressing your g-spot as the tip of her nose pressed into your clit and you lost control of your every sense. Gasping for air as pleasure coursed through your trembling form, blurry white stars filled your vision as your eyes crossed and the taste of something metallic coated your tongue as you harshly bit down on your lower lip before you were screaming incoherently, her name sinfully intermixed.
You felt her smirk against your thigh and couldn't help but to smile yourself as you felt her kiss up your body with a softness that transcended all prior carnality. There was this break in the tension as she tenderly locked her lips to yours, tongues dancing around the other as her hands anchored to your chest, fondling the malleable skin as if it was second nature. Soft whines reverberated into her mouth the longer that she played with your sensitive breasts as she kissed you dumb.
Eventually the blonde felt this intense urge to satiate her own body, so she pulled back and you whimpered. "Fuck, you're so hot Y/N," she groaned as she stared at you, so beautifully spaced out, the thin line of spit tethering your lips together snapped as she grinned.
"You know, you're my celebrity crush too," she teased, finding amusement in the way you tried to shimmy away from her, but her hands firmly pressed down, keeping your body stilled by her grip on your breasts.
"Don't try and run now darling," she purred against your neck, her face having dipped down so that she could finish the job she started during your shoot.
"Scar, th-the movie," you warned but she simply didn't care, the woman chuckled against your skin, "Oh love, you know as well as I do that make up can cover this, plus, this is really just us aiding the film, you know?"
Scarlett continued on bruising your soft skin with her teeth as you couldn't, nor did you really want to, find a reason to dissuade her from her current ministrations. Just as soon as she was satisfied with her hard work she flipped you onto your stomach without warning.
A low moan left the both of you as her cunt touched down, your body shivered as her slick smeared onto the back of your thigh, the idea that you'd turned her on that much hadn't even permeated your mind until now and with the physical evidence you felt powerful. Even if she was on top, you aided her by tensing your muscles to which she rewarded you with a hoarse moan and two fingers that slid between your slick lips.
The both of your bodies moved in steamy tandem, your front being pressed further into the mattress with every rough thrust of her fingers and hips. The room soon became a lewd symphony as your skin slapped together and the both of your slick seeped and spread, all working to drown out your soft, choked moans.
With her free hand no longer on your hip you were thrown further into the depths of pleasure as her palm roughly pressed down on your abdomen just as her fingers reached your depth, your body jerked but she just kept going down until she could play with your clit.
"Mommy," you screamed the desired honorific, it almost sounded like a plea for mercy, but the blonde had none to show you, she instead slid a third finger into your core causing you to spasm uncontrollably. Which in turn tensed your muscles up even further, and sent her into a state of immense bliss, her teeth instinctively sunk into your shoulder and drew blood.
Her body had arched back then dropped to the side of yours in a matter of seconds, her fingers stayed buried within your warmth, almost like a place of comfort. It took you far longer than her to regain your composure as this was actually your fifth orgasm of the evening. The other two having happened before she caught you.
Nevertheless, you were able to form a sentence as you felt her fingers vacate your pussy, "W-what was this?"
Scarlett had been shifting to a place of comfort when your disconcerting question was aired, you caught her completely off guard but upon settling her cheek down on your bare ass she hummed softly in thought. Then as she really thought about it, imagining a future where you'd part ways after filming ended, she frowned.
"You're mine," she tiredly growled against the sweaty skin of your ass, her teeth nibbled at the round flesh as she gave you her answer (demand). "Then, now, the point is you'll always be mine Y/N so get comfortable."
"I'm plenty comfortable," you murmured, words a bit muffled as your face burrowed into your silky pillow. Scarlett smiled to herself, her heart officially settled now that she knows you understood; you were hers, this sinful endeavor was her official sealing of a deal.
Her worn down body sidled up by your side, still her strong arm wrapped around your midsection so that she could pull you close enough for her to feel your body against hers. "Goodnight baby girl, I think we've done enough work to ensure the scene will be a hit..."
When tomorrow came, and the scene was shot you two found it only took one go as the sexual chemistry was palpable. Maritza had winked, and mouthed a 'your welcome' thinking that you'd just won the blonde over, but unbeknownst to her this was just an encore...
Or as the sapphics would simply call it, round two.
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dearsnow · 11 months
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WHERE YOU GO FOR YOUR FIRST DATE (SPIDERVERSE)
- headcanons for where the spiderverse characters take you on your first date (spiderverse x gn!reader, fluff)
a/n - another one of these!! you guys liked the last one so much that i had to make more lol.
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HOBIE brings you to a concert. It’s loud and rowdy, but he keeps a gentle hand on you the entire time. Afterwards, he’ll lead you to a quiet place where you can talk and express your feelings about the show you just watched. It’s really cute to see his eyes light up when you discuss everything, and you know that going on this date was the right idea.
MIGUEL doesn’t have time for dates. At least, that’s what he says. So your first “date” is in his office, with you sitting quietly while he does his work. After a bit, though, he notices that you want to do something more and he feels a little pang in his stomach that could be classified as regret or guilt. When that happens, he’ll stop what he’s doing and gruffly ask you if you want to have dinner with him. When you say yes, he’ll stand to set up a nice little scene while you watch.
PAVITR takes you to dinner with him. You don’t go out, he just dresses up and asks his auntie to cook for him. It might seem cheap at first, but he’s really just excited for you to try his auntie’s food and meet his family. Everything about this moment is important to him, you included. There’s perfumed candles on the table and flowers pinned to his dress shirt, which he gives to you after the dinner. He spares no efforts.
When MILES asks you out for your first date, he tries to brainstorm every cool idea or romantic setting. Nothing seems fitting or great enough for you, so he settles on bringing you up to a high roof and having a picnic. The view of the city is incredible as the sun sets, and you talk for hours about life and literally everything. Even though the date came from Miles not knowing what to do, it’s the best date you could ask for.
Like Hobie, GWEN has an affinity for the performing arts. For this date, she’s the one playing. She lets you in on her band practices and secretly dedicates all the songs she plays to you. Her band mates absolutely know how special you are to her, so when practice ends, they all find an excuse to leave. So you’ll sit in the venue with her, talking and making jokes. She’ll apologize for not taking you somewhere “better”, but you really think that anywhere and anything with her is definitely worthy of your time.
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little-diable · 10 months
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Something Special - Dean Winchester (smut)
After watching SPN with @writethelifeyouwant this weekend, I needed to write a fic about Dean's "sex has always felt really good" monologue. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader tells Dean that she doesn't get the hype around sex, Dean is set on showing her that it's something truly special
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), friends to lovers, just pure smut basically
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)
header and plot idea by @deathofpeaceofmind
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No longer was (y/n) used to the calm beat of her heart, not urged on by the adrenaline thumping through her veins because she was chased by someone, or rather something. No longer was (y/n) used to sitting back with a smile tugging on her lips, allowed to take a few deep breaths without following either Dean or Sam to wherever they were called to. But tonight – for the first time in weeks – (y/n) found herself sitting next to Dean, head placed on his shoulder, hand holding onto a cold bottle of beer. The sounds of the movie the two were watching filled her room, but neither Dean or (y/n) found themselves concentrating on the plot, sharing jokes, thoughts, and questions as the minutes kept blurring by.
“You know,” (y/n) took another sip of her beer, eyes focused on the scene flickering on. The two main characters were about to tumble onto the mattress of their now shared bed, momentarily leaving (y/n) wondering how it must feel to be touched like this by Dean. “I never got the whole excitement about sex. I mean, yes, I guess it can feel good, but it’s nothing special.”
“What?” Dean’s raspy chuckles bubbled out of him, hand reaching for the remote to pause the movie. “Nothing special? It’s the most special thing out there, sweetheart.”
(Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling, drowning another sip before she placed the bottle down, fully turning towards Dean. His forest green eyes studied her as if he was trying to figure out if she was possessed, no longer able to guide herself. “Then please, enlighten me. What’s so special about it?”
“Fuck, the guys you’ve been with before must have sucked in bed, huh?” No longer were Dean’s eyes filled with the almost childish glee (y/n) found herself admiring whenever he didn’t notice her staring, no, by now they were filled with something rather serious, something that forced the hairs on her arms to rise. (Y/n) shuffled around, breaking eye contact for a second before she let go of a deep sigh.
“I don’t know, I mean, I never got close to an orgasm with them.” Dean’s warm hand found her chin, forcing (y/n) to look at him. For a few moments neither one of them dared to speak up, trying to communicate without sharing any words, listening to the silent whispers of their hearts like blind wanderers forced to rely on the whispers of the breeze, guiding them along uneasy paths. 
“Will you let me? You deserve to experience how good it can actually feel.” It was just a whisper, a sound so quiet (y/n) wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, and yet her curiosity got the best of her. Slowly she nodded her head, gasping in surprise as Dean’s plush lips found hers, kissing her without another warning. She was pulled into his lap, finding comfort close to his racing heart, to his strong thighs, and the hands that wandered up her spine to explore unfamiliar territory. 
Dean tugged her shirt over her head, dilated pupils flickering down to her chest, to the skin he kissed moments later. Every now and then their eyes met, just for a few seconds, and yet the seconds felt more sincere than any moments (y/n) had once shared with the men she had dated. But there had always been something special about Dean Winchester, the man that owned her heart without even knowing so.
“You see, sex has always felt really, really good. But, sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know?” Dean’s lips found their way back up to her throat while his hands worked on her bra, letting the fabric fall to the ground, taken from her before she could even try to cover herself up. “You’re drunk. You shack up. Then, it’s the whole morning thing. You know, “hey, that was fun.” And then, “adios,” you know? Always the “adios.” But, you know, when you get down to it, what’s the big deal, right?” The green colour of his eyes seemed to grow even greener as he sucked on her hardening nipples, set on leaving marks that would remind (y/n) of this very moment for days to come. 
“Dean,” she mewled his name, begging him to move down further. Another gasp ripped through her as Dean ground her core against his bulge, letting her feel how hard he was, just for her. Her clit was pulsing, secretly wondering if she’d be able to cum just like that, just from searching his closeness with most of their clothes still on. “More, please.”
“I mean, sure, there’s the touching and the feeling all of each other. My hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body. The two of us moving together, pressing and pulling… Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds. I want you to feel that, all of it.” He chuckled at the desperate gaze swimming in her pupils, letting go of a soft “So impatient”. 
Dean clicked his tongue, flipping them around so that he could tower over her, hands tugging his own shirt over his head. Fuck, this wasn’t the first time (y/n) got to admire a shirtless Dean, and yet she had never dared to admire him for long, just a few seconds where he found himself distracted by something. But now Dean wasn’t distracted, no, he was awfully focused on (y/n), on the woman that would choke on his name in a few minutes. “I think I want you to cum on my tongue first, and then on my cock.”
“Oh fuck, do something, please.” His chuckles reverberated through the bedroom as he helped her out of her jeans, panties following shortly after. She was completely bare, naked for his eyes only, a sight so beautiful Dean found himself frozen. Both their hearts were racing, calling out to one another, very well knowing that this wasn’t just a quick hookup, not something they’d ever be able to forget. 
(Y/n)’s eyes followed Dean’s every move, watching him kiss his way down to her heat, eyes flickering up to meet hers as he brushed his tongue along her folds, moaning at her taste. She could already tell that this wouldn’t end like it had with the guys she had been with before, Dean would be able to make her cum in no time, pushing her over the edge before her mind could catch up with her body. 
Dean’s skilled fingers took care of her pulsing bundle of nerves, smirking against her skin as he dipped his tongue into her tightness. Her moans kept clawing through her, hands grasping her sheets in a desperate try to ground herself, unable to keep on breathing. Her body grew tense as she felt her orgasm creeping closer, forcing her to breathe faster, scared that she’d pass out from the tension now clinging to her. 
This very sensation had something so unfamiliar to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever get to experience this again, already addicted to the feeling of Dean’s tongue taking care of her every need. Her moans urged him on to add more pressure to his movements, tongue fucking her faster, in sync with the movements of his fingers. 
“Oh god, Dean, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” Her sobs left his heart roaring in pride, tugging on his muscles as he watched her come undone. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, teeth buried in her lower lip as she let the sensation wash through her, allowing her vocal cords to produce the sweetest sounds Dean has ever heard before. He found himself marvelling at her, wishing that he’d be able to grasp his phone, to take a picture of the pleasure drunken expression tugging on her features. 
Dean had always known that he was in love with her, and yet he had never dared to act on his feelings, preferring to secretly harbour a crush that was stronger than any emotion he was used to by now, instead of ending up with a broken heart and a broken friendship. But in this very moment, Dean found himself growing more confident, finally understanding that she was tied to him in the same way he was tied to her. 
“Dean,” a deep sigh left her as he pulled away, smirking down on (y/n) before he kissed her. “Fuck me, please.” 
“Such a good girl, I knew you’d love this, you deserve to be touched by someone who actually wants you to enjoy this.” Dean rose from the bed to tug his trousers down his legs, allowing (y/n) to take in the sight of his clothed cock, of the way his cock was pressed against the fabric of his dark boxers. Fuck, she had dreamt about this very moment for way too many times, wondering how he’d fuck her, how he’d push her closer and closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her. 
Dean rolled a condom down his cock before he aligned himself with her heat, fingers interlaced with hers before he slowly sank into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust, exhaling the tension tugging on their muscles, urged on by the emotions that made this very night more special than all others they got to live through before. 
(Y/n)’s trembling hand tugged Dean down to her, sharing a passionate kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved slowly at first, building up a rhythm that shot sparks down their spines, leaving them drowning in the heat thumping through their veins. 
“Shit, you feel so good.” Dean’s praises left her heart skipping beats, racing in her chest as if she was on another hunt, guided by the adrenaline rushing through her system. But this very moment wasn’t filled with the same kind of adrenaline she was all too used to, no, it had a new touch to it, allowing her to silence her racing thoughts. 
Her walls fluttered around his cock as his hand found its way back to her sensitive clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, very well knowing that they’d both cum any moment now. Heavy breaths left them, mixed with moans and groans that echoed through her bedroom, a sound that would forever cling to them, reminiscent like the emotions filling their bodies. 
“There we go, can feel you clenching my cock. Let go for me, sweetheart.” Dean’s raspy words pushed her over the edge, hands finding his shoulders to claw her fingernails into his skin. He fucked her through her high, staring down on her with a proud smirk before he followed her, releasing himself into the condom. 
Dean slowly pulled out of her, tossing away the condom before he searched her closeness again. For a few minutes neither of them dared to speak up, trying to catch their breaths with closed eyes and wandering fingers that stroked one another’s warm skin. With a kiss pressed to her forehead, Dean pulled (y/n) into his chest, tightening his grip on her. 
“You’re right, this is truly the most special thing ever.” 
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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Alexia being all relaxed and laughing at some ridiculous scenes during a horror movie while reader is watching through their fingers and flinching at every sound
Leah acting all tough and making fun of reader but is suddenly super concentrated on the popcorn whenever a scary scene comes up
Alessia being openly scared and screaming in readers ears and then laughing it off afterwards
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horror movies II a.puetllas, l.williamson, a.russo
alexia
"ale baby i'd rather watch football." you groaned, glaring up at your girlfriend with an annoyed frown who only laughed at the comment.
"no you wouldn't, unless its live you hate football." the blonde smiled knowingly, one of your only flaws which was easily forgiven considering you'd not missed a single one of her matches and alexia quite enjoyed teaching you the rules.
"i hate horror movies more! and i hate you for making me watch one." you huffed, pouting up at her as the captain hovered over you. "okay hermosa you win, we won't watch it." she smiled softly as you perked back up.
"really?"
"no! stop complaining. it is my turn to choose, no?" alexia grinned as you deflated and she stole a kiss, making a shooing motion with her hands as you sat up and she slotted in behind you on the sofa.
"besides bebita your choices are horrible and i still put up with them." alexia sighed honestly as you smacked her leg, the catalan kissing your cheek apologetically as she clicked play, her arms wrapping protectively around your stomach.
"no you don't! if you don't like the movie you just do your best to distract and seduce me so we have sex instead of finishing it." you rolled your eyes. "and you are complaining about that?" alexia scoffed in disbelief.
"because mi amor when we are actually having sex, the last thing i ever hear from you is any sort of complaint." the blonde midfielder purred, lips curling into a smug smirk as you pushed her face away with your hand.
"romance movies are nice! you could take some notes." you huffed, crossing your arms but settling into her as your head slumped to her shoulder once you were comfortable, pout on your lips that you hadn't gotten your way.
"hey i am very romantic!" alexia defended herself, hands grabbing your cheeks and tilting your head back, ducking down and pecking your lips repeatedly until they curled into a smile and she let you go.
"cariño this is funny! this would never happen in real life." alexia scoffed, accent thick and laughter boisterously loud as you watched through the miniscule cracks in your fingers an hour later.
you swore loudly and jumped, burying your face in your hands as someone fell into what could only be described as a human sized blender, their shrill gargling screams of pain filling your shared home.
"how are you laughing? this is disgusting." you mumbled into your palms, eyes squinted shut as your girlfriend wrenched them away from your face.
"its just a bit of fake blood hermosa, don't be a baby." alexia cooed condescendingly as you shot her a withering glare, failing to pull your hands from her grip as she attacked your face with kisses.
"see! look that is funny." alexia laughed, nudging you with her knee as someones head was suddenly sliced off by a circular saw blade, rolling to land eyes up at the feet of another character who let out a blood curdling scream.
you watched on, eyes wide in horror and stomach churning as the deaths only seemed to get more and more gruesome.
"no, stay." the older girl ordered firmly, pulling you back down into her hold as you tried to get up to leave. "i'm not nala!" you glared up at her as she held you captive in her strong limbs, placing a few tender kisses to your exposed neck.
"i know, nala would not be so scared." "ale!"
~
leah
"oh come on babe don't be such a wuss." leah teased, causing you to grimace as she harshly pinched your cheeks. "its not being a wuss to know im not going to enjoy something!" you quipped, shoving her away with a glare and rubbing your face.
"nah but in relationships there needs to be compromises." leah grinned as you mocked her under your breath, rummaging around in the pantry. "what is compromising about forcing me to watch some dumb movie about haunted possessed children?" you scoffed, reaching for the box of microwave popcorn.
"the compromise is that when it gets too scary you can hide your face in my boobs baby." leah smirked, moving you aside and grabbing the box which was just out of your reach.
"oh my hero." you replied dryly, elbowing her out of the way and throwing a packet of popcorn into the microwave. "i know, i'm just so selfless sweets. what would you do without me?" leah sighed, pulling herself up to sit on the kitchen counter.
"eat food with actual flavor and seasonings, watch reality tv whenever i want, not have to pick up your sweaty kits and dirty laundry flung everywhere, have peace and quiet when im trying to study-" you started to list off things on your fingers as leah scoffed and hauled a roll of paper towel at your head as the microwave dinged. "oi!"
"honestly woman its a wonder i put up with you." leah shook her head as you dumped the popcorn into a bowl and followed her into the living room. "honestly woman its a wonder you pulled me." you rebutted as leah made a face, unable to argue your point as you sent her a wink, settling on the sofa as she slung her legs across your lap.
"i am not giving you a foot massage if you're making me watch this crap williamson. think again!" you laughed sarcastically, shoving them off you and tucking your knees into your chest as the blonde rolled her eyes and clicked play.
hiding behind your hands you made no move to disguise your obvious discomfort and fear, quickly moving to press your body into leah's side, her arm settling across your shoulders and drawing you in close as she'd press the occasional kiss to the side of your head.
though you did notice that every time you'd flinch or jump, leahs gaze would coincidentally move to the ceiling or she'd suddenly become very interested in the popcorn.
"ha! you're also scared of this. admit it!" you accused the next time she did it, the blonde waving you off with a dismissive scoff. but as there was a jump scare suddenly she flinched, kicking the bowl of popcorn onto the floor as she clutched at her chest, heart racing.
"whose the wuss now?"
~
alessia
"lessi we really don't have to watch it." you promised, sat on the kitchen bench swinging your legs back and forth, watching your girlfriend dart around the kitchen preparing both of your favorite movie time snacks.
"you said you wanted to! and i want whatever you want gorgeous." the blonde smiled sincerely, stealing a kiss as she reached over your head to grab out another plate.
"so we can get a rescue dog?" you perked up, the italian only laughing and kissing you again, her non answer enough of an answer for you. "which one?" the girl held up two different kinds of m&m's.
"crispy, obviously." "obviously." she mocked as you kicked her with a playful glare.
"but really baby we don't have to, i can watch this anytime like when you're at training or when its your turn to choose and you fall asleep five minutes in..." you trailed off with a grin, the taller girl pinching you for the comment as you squirmed.
"you're not allowed to change the movies i pick even if i fall asleep, you know the rules! you play with my hair, scratch my back and educate yourself with my excellent film choice, cheeky." alessia teased, kissing your cheek and again reaching over you to grab down two mugs.
"you know i can just grab these for you right?" you smiled, stretching your arm up and grabbing what she was after with ease. "but then i can't kiss you every time i need to grab something, so thats a no deal pretty baby." alessia grinned, hands on your thighs as she leant in and pecked your lips several times to prove her point, smile widening at the blush that crept up your neck.
"such a charmer russo." you rolled your eyes playfully, jumping down from the counter and grabbing the two hot chocolates she'd made. "thats strictly baby or love to you thanks y/l/n. or i am partial to; my everything." you shot her a look over your shoulder as her hand collided sharply with your bum, the drinks almost spilling as she only smiled sheepishly and grabbed the rest of the snacks.
"you sure you don't want me to turn it off less?" you murmured to the taller girl laid down on top of you, her head tucked into your neck as she shook it firmly. "s'fine love its not even scary." she scoffed, though you smiled as she gripped you tighter as the thrills escalated.
as her body started to settle you assumed she'd fallen asleep, her head resting on your shoulder now, your fingers threaded through her soft blonde locks.
but the sense of calm within your little love bubble popped immediately as she let out a blood curling scream right into your ear, causing you to wince and shove her away from you out of instinct.
"oh that wasn't the nun, sorry baby." the blonde smiled guiltily, kissing your jaw a few times with a laugh as your ears rang from the sheer volume of her yell and how close she'd been to you.
"given i can no longer hear whats being said anymore, its going off. i told you we didn't have to watch it!"
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beaulesbian · 3 months
Text
Every once in a while I think again about the end of Thriller Bark and feel completely insane and ill about Zoro's sacrifice, FOR LUFFY, specifically (you know, the character Kuma's threat was directed at). It wasn't even that long into traveling together, a few months maybe, yet Zoro was ready to give up everything in that moment - in the chapter with Kuma appearing being titled The End of the Dream ! - to protect his crew and Luffy, so he could continue in his journey.
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Since Luffy and Zoro met, they always understand how words and promises were imporant to them - with Luffy punching Helmeppo in ch. 3 for lying to Zoro. Zoro learnt how serious Luffy was about his dream, and soon he realized he backed up his words with actions as well - untiying Zoro and giving him his swords back - his biggest treasures. It meant that Zoro could be honest and honor-bound in the same way to Luffy, to gain this mutual respect and trust between them since day 1. To wield his swords to protect both Luffy and later their whole crew, and to step in a way between Luffy and danger.
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He was being actually more upset that Sanji got up from the previous Kuma's attack and interrupted their fight - Zoro was trying to keep the whole crew safe by this exchange for Luffy's head - if Sanji was offering his life for Luffy half dead and without much strength left to fight for himself (he started the offering of his own life already believing he woudn't survive, with a "you should find a new cook"), then this very specific sacrifice would be meaningless to the crew (- if this arc was taking place post WCI, then it would turn out very differently, with the strength of Sanji believing in Luffy, but it wasn't his moment during this scene) - it would hurt them more than help them, because as much as Zoro was prepared to die as well, he was prepared to keep fighting until the last breath.
Zoro was thinking he might die - Kuma's words were pretty certain he WOULD die - but he still had the willingness and strength to take on the deal for Luffy, for his captain and his crew. ("if i die here, it just means I wasn't worth much to begin with" this line he says times and times again during the overall story, like in Rogue Town throwing Kitetsu and waiting if it would cut off his arm, up until standing against King in Wano "it's my power that was lacking", and all the other times he was questioning his worth - it's something he tempts the fates he doesn't believe in, to actually harm him, to take his strength away if he doesn't deserve to survive. and it's him saying he knows and accepts his own weaknesses - of not being strong enough (in comparison to Sanji in this example), and always fights through them.)
He threw away his swords, including Wado Ichimonji - literally throwing aside his and Kuina's dream, to compell Kuma into a duel (with the anime playing 'The Very Very Very Strongest' when Zoro bowed down and pleaded Kuma, offering him his head instead of Luffy's) so Kuma wouldn't go after the crew and specifically Luffy later - no matter the outcome if Zoro would surive or not.
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And then, he was actually strong enough to survive taking his captain's fatigue, agony and pain! Possibly being the only one who could survive taking Luffy's pain.
Zoro could have back out when Kuma offered him the 'taste' of the pain, with the realization of the scale of the hurt with the very possibility of dying from it. But that wouldn't be Zoro now, would it? He accepted and took all of Luffy's pain so his captain wouldn't have to suffer or die, and when they found him afterwards, he still kept standing, tense with the fatigue but alive! (again, with anime adding the music of 'Luffy's Fierce Attack' to underline the importance between these two).
He was training for this since the beginning - to become stronger to shoulder the pain of his crew if necessary. (And not only that - he was preparing for that so another Kuina incident didn't have to happen). He was the first one to fight one of the Warlords before anything really began: his fight with Mihawk at Baratie really set the tone and his own goals to overcome - a glimpse to see on how much different levels the Warlords actually were in comparison to Zoro, Luffy and the others, and if they were supposed to beat them so Luffy could become the Pirate King, that always meant to be ready and to get even stronger than them.
(small spoiler for egghead, ch. 1102: seeing Kuma (a Warlord at that time) remembering this Thriller Bark event later, during Egghead arc, and thinking that even he might have passed out from the pain, makes it all the more meaningful that it was Zoro who took the pain and withstood it - establishing how high was the strength of his willpower, already before timeskip.)
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There could be so many other nuances and details from these last few chapters of this arc, and even what this deal meant for the following arcs! Zoro was still in pain on Sabaody, and because of that the crew wasn't as strong as it could have been (not to say they would have a chance anyway, knowing what all was in the motion).
The next is the tragedy and beauty of LUFFY never finding out about this. Half of the crew knew: Sanji, Brook and Robin knew the details, but would never tell Luffy - and that shows their loyalty to both Luffy and Zoro (and Zoro's decision). Luffy woke up and first thing he did was to jump up and down, excited not to be weighted down by his injuries, and only seeing his swordsman being down with injuries so severe he was out more days afterwards, knowing that something else attacked them (him = Zoro), after he was passed out from the fight against Moria, brought down his mood (even if it's not much noticable, but the change into subtle worry is there in the few next chapters).
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"I can't explain it either!" - meaning he was thinking about it too, possibly how weird it was for him to move normally after such long fight. We don't really ever hear/see Luffy thinking about something, except when it's mentioned how he came up with a solution or idea, telling us there's more to Luffy than just being straightforward in his goals and speech. With Luffy being sometimes very emotionally intelligent when he wants to be, he could have figured it out from all these other people in the room asking similar questions and deducing. Even Usopp was putting two and two togehter. We might never find out if Luffy actuallly knows or not. Luffy probably wouldn't ask Zoro directly, especially if Zoro wouldn't tell first and didn't want to talk about it
- because for Zoro, nothing happened! Nothing, that would compromise his and Luffy's first promise. For Zoro to become the Strongest he couldn't back down from the duel with Kuma (just like before with his duel with Mihawk at Baratie. When he's faced with something he swore to overcome, he can't back down or evade. Even back then Luffy understood that as he held back Johnny and Yosaku, but Sanji was perplexed how far Zoro (and Luffy) would go to reach their dreams). When Sanji was asking him in front of Kuma "What about your dream?" Zoro was still thinking about his dream- it was just that the context has changed, it changed into a journey. His dream is the most important thing, but it wouldn't mean much, if, when on his way to accomplish that, he would betray his other words and promises.
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moonit3 · 2 months
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How about a Yandere! Monster Mimic, where falling in love with a human reader...
(The mimic is a shapeshifting monster that can transform into an object or anyone it has seen, of course it can revert to its true amorphous form if it wants to.)
another non-human of for my blog? yes, please.
MY NON-HUMAN HUSBAND IS PERFECT!
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➽ context warnings: male! yandere but he can shapeshift, fluffy content, gn! reader, mentioned cheating but nothing happening, also there isn’t much warning in this one.
➽ word count: 1.8k
➽ synopsis: your monster husband is the best thing to ever happen to you and there is no way you could forget him for that.
➽ yandere! mimic monster x gn! reader
➽ a/n: so you know when shows/anime have small segments inside the same episode (like saiki kusuo and the way of a househusband)? if the answer is yes, then i can tell you that i have write this since i watch them recently and got in the mood for something different compared to my past works. also, shot out to me if there is any mistaken down here!
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tv show!
a soup opera is at the tv and smash can’t take his eyes off the screen, not even hearing you calling him to eat. instead, he just keep changing his appearance every time a new actor show up at the scene.
“nash!” you called him, but falling to gain his attention when he doesn’t even bet an eye at you. “it’s time for dinner, remember?”
no answer, he keep watching the tv on his own as the show continues to show the leads going to a wedding between another characters. the humanoid creature returned to his original form when seeing the groom and the bride kissing each other at the altar, afterwards he turn to see you and it was easy to understand what he wants to learn about the scene.
“to make the marriage officially end, the groom and the bride have to kiss each other after promising to spend their lifes together.” you replied. “but something they don’t work together and split up after. it’s common to happen, just like it happened to my uncle and aunt.”
he nodded, taking your words to consideration before going back to watch the soup opera, but this time with a bowl of rice that he began devouring without hesitation. nash always acts like he hasn’t eaten in days, when in fact, he had breakfast and lunch not long ago.
decided that you won’t dry the dishes for now, you took a place next to nash on the couch, watching the tv with him in silence. without taking his many pairs of eyes of the screen, he pulls you closer by his crawl, making you rest your head at his arm.
a smile grown on your lips when he does that, not only that makes you feel safer, but also relaxes your mind. it’s a sweet reminder that nash cares about you, even though he never spoken a word to you and the fact of him being whatever he is doesn’t change how much you care about him.
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the cat
it already the third time that nash ended with his face full of cuts and bruises after another failed attempt of petting the stray cat that comes around home. you would be laughing if the whole event wasn’t sad, well at least, to his eyes.
“don’t cry, baby.” the sniff coming from the creature has become a common scene since the first time the stray cat has visited you and the cat always left after making nash’s face their newest canvas. “i’m sure that one day, the stray will become more docile and let you pet their fur. maybe even entering our house to sleep with us.”
he continues to sob regardless of yours words, but he remains still under your care when applying another band aid to his face. it’s a unique scene to have a two meter creature full of colorful band aids on his face, like he has been a victim of children’s drawing.
after you finished taking care of him, nash move away from your touch and made his way out towards outside the cabin, where he began sunbathing and stare out into the sky. to make sure he won’t get in trouble, you took a seat at the couch from the front porch, watching nash resting the sun and not giving much thought to the the wild animals that live around the cabin.
the breeze hitting your body makes you drowsy and your eyes can’t hold much longer, not after working hours and hours to fix the roof before the winter comes around. a yawn escapes your lips before you start feeling tired and your mind begging you to fall asleep after working long hours, but another side of you is forcing your mind to stay awake to spend more time with nash. and speaking of him, the monster approaches you with something in his arms.
“what it is, nash? another worm or grasshopper?” you asked, but seeing his smile reaching both of his ears confirms that it’s something even better. “show me.”
and he does. in his arms rests the stray cat that has been visiting the cabin for the past few weeks, but today it seems friendly, showing no signs of aggression towards nash as it usually does. because of that, he looks happier with the cat peacefully sleeping in his arms like a baby.
the scene itself is an adorable one, something that could easily come out from a kids’ shows and you could smile at nash for finally befriending the cat. your husband look so happy when snuggling the small animal, almost like he wasn’t crying just moments ago from being rejected from said animal.
the smile on your face grown more on your lips when you patted the stray cat, seeing the tiny animal enjoying being on nash’s laps only made you relaxed more, specially when he sat next to you to let you pat the cat even more.
“do you want to keep it?” he nodded, enthusiastic about the idea. “then, we should get a few things for the little one tomorrow when going to the town. got it?” he nodded again.
another yawn came out of your lips, making nash ware of your tiredness and he adjusted your head to be the one laying on his shoulder. even with your eyes closing, you can feel his form shape into a soft fur that makes you wonder if he knows that you love when he does that.
“im going to take a nap, wake me up in a hour or so…” and with that, you began dreaming on nash’s shoulder and he couldn’t be happier to have you by one side and the cat in the other side of his arm. the two most important things to him in the same place.
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the old lady and the store
“i know your secret, young blood.”
your eyes widen open when the old lady’s words reached your ears, it’s only seven in the morning and there is already a problem that you need to solve...did nash got in another trouble with the town people? you hope not.
“my secret?” you played like you didn’t know what she is talking about, pretending to be a fool is an easy job for you. “i think you are mistaken, lady. i am nothing, but a mere normal hunter that lives in the woods.”
she didn’t buy your words, not when a grin suddenly emerged at her thin lips, you could already guess the many words that she would say about nash and you can imagine how the townspeople will hunt down nash. however, you stood quiet in front of the balcony, pretending to be a normal hunter while the old lady just stared at you.
“don’t play the idiot, kid.” she got up from her seat, even being shorter than you, the lady knows how to make her presence known and scary. “i know that young hunters like you always have your dirty secrets inside those wooden cabin.”
you only stared at her, not saying any words as she walked closer to you to take a better look at how shaken you have gotten with her intimidation. it’s hilarious that a hunter would be a the mercy of an old widow lady like her, one that barely hits your shoulder, the others would laugh at this scene.
“tell me, young blood.” her voice is now like a thunder stomping inside your head. there is no other clients at the store, so she didn’t need to low her voice at you. “how many people are you sleeping with?”
.
..
….
“excuse me? i-i am not sleeping around!”
the old lady laughed at your reaction, not caring if her loudness would reach outside the market, everyone of the town knows better than spying at her. it’s clear to those who could hear outside that you have become her newest victim to her attention and curiosity.
“please, kid.” she patted your shoulder when returning to her seat behind the balcony, this time with the biggest smile you ever saw at her lips. “i know everything about everyone at this small place and i know that you have been *hanging out* around with different people by every week that you comes to the town to sell your goods.”
“you are mistaken, lady!” you tried to make her rethink about the subject, but you quickly realized that she won’t hear you, not when she already looks absolutely certain about your ‘affairs’.
“don’t worry, kid. i won’t tell your husband about it.” she winked, giving you an even big smile when referring about your so called ‘partner’. “after all, i was just like you during my young days. full of beauty and grace, ready to make anyone fall to my feet and trust me, i was good at it~”
her rambling gains an extra awkwardness when you remember that nash did took many humans forms when coming to the town for the past months with you. he would often take different appearances when accompanying you, sometimes he would resemble a bombshell girl from those old magazines or maybe a good looking man from those old spies movies that you often caught him watching instead of sleeping.
well, at the bright side of this situation. the old lady believes you are sleeping around, not that you share the house with someone not human…so things are going good for you, right?
“that’s nice to hear, lady.” your lips curves into an nervous smile when she hands the products and that you quickly put inside your bag, wanting to leave fast as possible. “but i got to go, you know, to meet one of my ‘contacts’.”
she stares at you, again with her classic smile that reaches both of her eyes, “don’t forget to tell me about it when you come back to shop!” and with that, you finally leave the market with your bag full of stuff for the incoming winter.
the path back home was a peaceful one, no wild animals has tried to approach you and the rain didn’t start yet, so nothing has happened during your walk. once you have arrived at the cabin, nash welcomed you with open arms and brought you to a hug and began acting so happy, like you haven’t seen him in years.
nash brings you inside the cabin to show that he didn’t mess with anything during your absence nor has the cat destroyed the interior like you would expected, the small feline is still asleep in the same place you saw before going to the town. showing that he did succeed with his goals, nash helped you organize the things you’ve brought around the house.
it’s always a nice view seeing him becoming taller than you to organize the higher shelves of the kitchen and the storage room. thanks to him, you don’t need to bring the ladder from the basement. and with his assistance, the two of you arranged the foods rapidly and efficiently, leaving time to the two of you relax for the rest of the day.
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@moonit3 writings
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trensu · 8 months
Text
Some more of stasis in darkness. you have no idea how many times i've written this scene. i discarded three or four different versions of it before i came up with this one. i feel like this version worked best for the characters. or at least i hope they feel in character.
It was the ninth night.
Steve took his usual spot before the shrine. He greeted his god as he had before but decided tonight was going to be a quiet night. He didn’t have much to say so he’d simply let his faith burn bright in his silent vigil.
Hours passed, and again the strange man didn’t show up as he had been the nights prior. This time, Steve didn’t bother putting it off. He decided to do a perimeter check. As he stood, however, a cacophony of squeaks and beating wings filled the air.
A massive colony of bats burst into the clearing. They moved shockingly fast as they neared Steve and the shrine. Steve ducked his head under his arms but let the bats come. He ignored the little Robin in his head yelling about rabies. He couldn’t risk hurting one of his god’s favored creatures. 
There were so many of them, more than Steve had ever seen in his life. They flew round and round dropping altitude until they coalesced at the foot of the shrine. The din stopped as abruptly as it had started. When Steve could no longer hear a single squeak or feel wings zipping overhead, he lowered his arms. Cautiously, he lifted his head, eyes drawn immediately to the shrine to check for any damage. 
Not a single bat remained. Instead, the strange man sat, cross legged, at the statue’s feet. He wore a dark cloak comprised of deep navies, bruising purples, and an inky black. Each color slowly, gracefully shifted and melted one into another, again and again before Steve’s eyes. Flecks of light littered it in familiar formations. The clasp that secured it around the man was a bright silvery white. It was shaped exactly the same as the waning moon above. 
“Ta-da!” the man said, fluttering his hands in a showman’s gesture.
Steve took in the man's appearance. The ratty travel clothes, the cloak of constellations and its clasp…Steve leapt back in shock. Everything suddenly clicked into place very quickly to paint a very unflattering picture of himself. He whirled around. He couldn't face the shrine. 
"Shit," Steve's voice was loud with a stunned sort of panic as he remembered the events of the past week. He paced anxiously. "Shit, shit. It was y–the whole time, you were–FUCK. How did I miss–and even if you weren't you, you were still a traveler in the night and I treated you like–I'm a fucking idiot. I'm the stupidest man alive, how–"
"Probably from getting dropped on the head so much, huh?" the man asked with that same annoyingly self-satisfied voice he'd been using every night. The annoying stranger with his annoying questions and his stupid smug tone.
Mindlessly, Steve turned on his heel to glare at the man. He jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction, frustration flaring.
"Oh, you can fuck right off, man," Steve replied reflexively. "I am having a crisis!"
A split second later, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. This wasn't just a stranger talking. He backpedaled hard.
"Oh, ohhhh no, I didn't mean that, Lord, I-I wasn't thinking."
The man exploded into raucous laughter. It shook his whole body until he doubled over from the strength of it. He continued to laugh when he toppled off the side of his perch and landed with a thunk on the ground. The man sat up, wheezing and wiping at his face, mirth clearly keeping him in a choke-hold. 
"Oh, far be it for me to interrupt your crisis," the Lord of Night forced out amidst the laughter. He flapped a hand at him. "Please, continue."
The god attempted to regain composure but all that did was turn his full bellied guffaws into snorting giggles. Steve waited, his anxiety fading in the face of the god’s genuine good humor. It took another couple of minutes before the god calmed enough to pop back to his feet and climb back onto the plinth. The man made himself comfortable at the foot of his own statue as he had before.
"So how goes the crisis?" he asked mischievously.
"On hold," Steve said evenly, fighting back the start of a smile. The man said nothing but still radiated amusement. Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you really the Lord of Night?"
"The one and only!"
“And you’ve been here the whole time?”
“Yep!”
“So why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I talked to you every night! I don’t get it.” Steve paused as a thought occurred to him. “Was this a test?”
“Uh…yes? Yes.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. The god shifted in his seated position. It reminded Steve of the time Dustin shattered a jar of his most expensive hair product and tried to hide it. Dustin had squirmed guiltily under Steve’s expectant gaze until he confessed to his dastardly crime. Apparently, the method worked on gods as well.
“Okay, it started more as an attempt to get you to leave me alone,” the Lord of Night admitted. 
“Oh.” It came out blankly, which Steve was grateful for, because he felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. “You don’t want me.”
Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised. This was a classic Steve problem. He tamped down the old familiar sting of rejection. Steve knew going in that this had been a possibility. It was a god’s right to reject an offering.
“I never wanted any holy warriors,” the Lord of Night corrected. “Hence the attempt to make you leave.” 
Steve supposed that lessened the blow a little. It was an impersonal rejection. That was better, right? 
"If you didn't want me as your holy warrior you could've just said," Steve said ruefully.
“You seemed pretty determined to come back, though.”
“Only because I thought you’d want to, like, use me for something. If you’d asked me to, I would’ve stopped bothering you. I could’ve gotten someone else who could worship you better,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice light and unaffected.
"Yeah, I really don’t think you could have,” the Lord of Night said in a strained tone. 
“No, I mean it,” Steve insisted. “I told you, Robin and Dustin wanted to come along. They would make sure you’re not alone again. You would like them. They pick up on stuff faster than me. They’d be good worshipers.”
“That’s not what I meant. Your worship was, uh, it was…no, nevermind, forget that. The thing is, the more you came back the more I…” 
The Lord of Night trailed off. He tugged his dark starry cloak around him tighter. When he spoke again, he seemed to have switched tracks entirely. 
"Look, I don't know exactly how the holy warrior thing works, but you guys do quests for your gods, right?"
"Well, yeah, that's the whole point. We're your boots on the ground. We do acts in your service to spread your faith. Like priests but less boring." 
The god snorted which made Steve grin.
"Priests are so boring," the Lord of Night agreed. 
Things went quiet again. The cloak of constellations made it hard to see his god, but Steve got the impression that the Lord of Night was fidgeting. Steve remembered the conversation from a few nights before, about nervousness and not knowing what to do. Steve fell back on his social graces, his good old Harrington charm, and carefully picked something that would encourage the god to speak.
"I can't believe I didn’t see it,” Steve said, with a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Like, I know I'm not the smartest guy around but I didn't think I was that slow."
"Don't worry about it,” the god replied instantly, breaking out of his internal reverie. “That's not on you. I didn't want you to notice, so you didn't."
"Oh."
"Yep. And, it's not like I have a face to remember, so, y'know. You're good."
"I guess that does make me feel bet–wait. What do you mean you don’t have a face?” Steve squinted at the Lord of Night.
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I lost my name,” the Lord of Night said with a hint of irony. “No name, no face.”
“But I saw it,” Steve insisted.
“Did you?” the Lord of Night asked, amused. He slid off the plinth and walked up to Steve until he was only three feet away. The god lowered his hood without any flourish. “What do I look like?”
Steve squinted at him studiously. The god was pale as moonlight and had hair as dark as the night itself; as for the rest of him…it was the strangest thing. Steve knew there was a pair of eyes under a brow. There was a nose above a mouth. He knew the right features were in the right places. However, he couldn’t tell if the eyes were dark or pale. He couldn’t say whether the nose was large or small. The mouth could be thin or it could be full. 
“I don’t know,” Steve relented. The Lord of Night nodded.
“Yeah, me neither.”
“Is…is that the quest? To find your name?” Steve asked, dread pooling in his belly. That quest would involve a lot of reading and…he didn’t even know. Language things? General research, for sure. None of which Steve was particularly good at.
“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” the Lord of Night smirked. He didn't give Steve a chance to apologize. “But yeah, there’s something important that needs to be done. I’m not strong enough to do it myself and I’m running out of time to do it.”
“I can do it,” Steve responded. “I’ll do it for you, my Lord.”
“You don’t even know what the quest is,” the god said wistfully.
“But I know you wouldn’t ask me to do anything cruel or unfair.”
“You’re unbelievable,” the Lord of Night muttered under his breath. Steve didn’t think he was supposed to hear that so he kept quiet. In a louder voice, the god resumed. “Okay, are you sure you wanna do this? Be a holy warrior? Because you could be literally anything else. You told me you liked cooking during one of your prayer sessions. You could open up a restaurant! Restaurant owners don’t usually die in the line of duty or whatever.”
Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This is what Steve trained for, what he was good at, and he wanted to put those skills to use.
“You said you needed help to do something important. I want to be the one that helps you. I want to be your warrior. I can do it, I know I can. I won’t let you down.” Steve bit his lip uncertainly as a thought struck him. "If you don't think I'm worthy–"
“It’s not about worthiness!" The god cut in. "Do you know what it would mean to be my holy warrior? The weight of the night sky, with all the stars and the moon, will be on your shoulders for as long as you walk the land. I don’t know much about holy warriors but I remember this: there’s no take-backs. You can’t just quit and go off to become something else later.”
“Yes, I know. We covered this in lectures at school. It wasn’t all swordplay," Steve said impatiently. "I did think about it once I finished training and I decided if I could find a god to pledge myself to, I didn't want to be anything else. Then I found you."
“...Okay. If you're sure, then okay,” the Lord of Night said decisively. “So what do I have to do? How do I make you mine?”
“Um, I think it’s different from god to god?” Steve stuttered, heart thumping at the god’s words. “But I guess we can do our own thing? I’m pretty sure it’s the intent that matters most.”
"I can work with that." The Lord of Night gestured downward. "Kneel, kneel. I have an idea of what to say.
"Should I close my eyes or something?" Steve asked once he’d gotten to his knees.
"Nah, this is good," Lord Night said. 
The god squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then, something miraculous happened. The Lord of Night spoke his name aloud.
“Steve Harrington.”
It was the first time his god ever said his name; it was stunning in a way Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend. A bolt of lightning down his spine. A roaring forge in his chest. A whirlwind in his lungs. It felt like all of that simultaneously, yet nothing like that at all. How could pitiful human speech hope to encompass the intensity of a god’s undivided attention; his god’s specific acknowledgement of a primitive life such as his? 
Tears sprang unbidden in Steve’s eyes. He became aware how lowly and frail his own body was, and how utterly insignificant his existence was in the vastness of the stars in the sky. He curled forward, hiding his face and making himself as small as he could. He could not bear his god seeing his mortal failings and imperfections. It would invite an exquisite, holy agony Steve surely wouldn’t survive. 
“Oh,” the Lord of Night breathed. “I forgot how that could feel to a human. I’ll try not to do it again.”
“No,” the word tore out of Steve’s throat without any conscious thought. “No, please. Please, my Lord.”
Steve didn’t even know what he was begging for because the singular attention of a god was agony but the thought of his god leaving him filled him with terror. He shattered, left with no purchase save his god’s words. Then there were arms around him, pulling him close, and enveloping him in constellations. Steve’s vision blurred. Great, heaving sobs overcame him as though ripped from his very soul. The Lord of Night murmured comfortingly.
“Alright, there we go,” he said softly. “I’m here, Steve. I see you in the night, every night. The stars shine for you, Steve. The moon turns its face for you. I’m with you, Steve.”
The words crashed into him with the unrelenting force of ocean waves. They swept his footing from underneath him and sent him spinning endlessly, endlessly. They lifted him upwards and sent him plummeting down until he was deep below the surface where the currents finally slowed. Surrounded by eternally burning stars, he was left weightless and suspended in an unearthly calm. The words rang in his skull with the surety and strength only a celestial being could claim.
Somewhere between an eternity and no time at all, Steve came back to himself feeling overexerted, though he hadn’t moved from where he knelt. Steve’s heart and soul had been scraped out of his chest, put between a pestle and mortar before getting unceremoniously dumped back in his weak flesh, but in a weirdly good way. His sobs subsided. His breathing came in and out slowly.
Eventually the cloak of constellations released him as well. He blinked his eyes open gradually to see his god kneeling before him at arm's length, palms resting on Steve's shoulders. Steve felt a stab of shame at having brought his god down low to a mortal's level. 
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve croaked. “Do you still–? Can I still be–?”
“No, yeah,” the Lord of Night said straight away. “That was on me. Not your fault at all. I’m out of practice interacting with mortals."
The god’s words lost the gravitas from before in a way that would've been jarring if it weren't such a relief. He finally broke his hold on Steve. He got to his feet, somewhat gracelessly. 
"Let’s try that again?” the Lord of Night asked.
Steve cleared his throat. He straightened up where he knelt and kept himself still. He nodded to show he was ready.
“Steve Harrington,” the god said. This time hearing his name on his god’s lips was exhilarating but at a level a human could bear. “Do you swear to spread my values in the minds and hearts of mortals, through action and word?”
“I swear.”
“Then will you, Steve Harrington, do me the honor of being my sword and shield? Will you carry my crest through all your agonies and all your joys?”
“Yes.”
For a breathless moment, their words hung in the air, resonating through the night with finality. The Lord of Night reached out and gently traced something on Steve's forehead. Steve assumed it was his god's sigil, though neither Robin or Dustin could find any images of it so he couldn't be sure. It felt like an incomplete circle with a squiggle running through it. The god stepped back to observe him when he was done.
The stillness that followed, ironically, rattled Steve’s bones with relief and joy that it was done. His god had accepted him. Then the Lord of Night shuffled his feet in an awkward, shy manner.
“Cool,” said the Lord of Night.
The heaviness and tension brought down by the gravity of their oath ruptured with that single world, and Steve could do nothing but dissolve in helpless, giddy giggles.
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