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#and watching their sons being hunted
adastreia-12 · 4 months
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they’re just dead beat parents to YOU. to ME they are unapproachable divinities inherently so far removed from humanity and yet still depending on and participating in it despite it all which is precisely what makes them so messily human. we are not the same.
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hellhoundlair · 2 years
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thinking about sam reading johns journal. yeah a lot of it is helpful info regarding monsters and shit. but also. It was a journal. and john wrote a lot of personal thoughts and feelings into it without ever thinking his sons were going to use it as a bible. pages of john journalling his suspicions about sam. about john hearing little hints and passing comments from demons. about john piecing together why mary died that night. about john looking at his son and seeing a monster. and sam reads that. and MARY reads it when she comes back too. and maybe dean snuck peeks into johns journal back when john was still writing it, when he was still a kid too. maybe he saw one of those pages and ripped it out and burnt it and tried to forget it ever existed.
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pyreshe · 1 year
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once again i am thinking about luke c.astellan,
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goleb · 1 year
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Is the DHMIS Gem AU mostly wholesome like Steven Universe, or does it have some grim things happening to the main characters?
I'd argue Steven Universe has a plethora of really dark moments and concepts that get overlooked or aren't dwelled on too hard due to having Steven as the center focus, so in that way, yes, it's exactly like Steven Universe 😂 But in all seriousness, while the overall plot isn't as concrete and developed YET (mostly from being a relatively recent creation, compared to something like, say, my KGTV Gem AU, which is also significantly darker and flavourably edgier in terms of themes, but we're not here to talk about that) I'd say it's a lot more domestic slice of life than anything else. It's actually pretty close to the Orphanage AU in that regard, haha. 
I don't wanna leave you with that short of an answer so, uh, here's some of my brainstorming attempt doodles. 
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Sketchbook is a glass prism because light refraction makes rainbows out of something that's clear, and drawing in a sketchbook makes something pretty out of empty pages. That's it, that's my logic. Theoretically Sketchbook could have been an iris agate as well, but I left that option for one of the fusions instead. Bit of an off-colour, but aren't they all… 
Tony is a blue star sapphire, because sapphires in the show are associated with time through their future vision (or past vision, in Padparadscha's case) so it's reasonable to assume a star sapphire would be as well. Also an excuse to keep his face markings, to be honest. Not quite satisfied with the gem colour-wise but who's gonna stop me from taking artistic liberties on that? 
Shrignold is a permafusion of a Rhodochrosite (associated with love, has variants that go from Sugary Pastel Pink to Raw Meat which I trust I don't have to explain in relation to Shrignold, haha) and an Aquamarine (considering the aquamarines already present in the show, butterfly theme and all), making a butterfly jasper (for obvious reasons). 
Colin and Laptop are quartzes, because quartz is commonly used in computers and stuff (and to keep time!), at least as far as I know. It's a deviation from the show because I was never fond of the whole "every gem of this type has the same role and looks and body type and corrupted form" for quartzes especially. I had to actively keep myself from making them heinrichites because it looks like a circuit board and, well, you know. Computers! And for some reason I automatically associate anything lime green with Colin even though there is nothing lime green about him. But who knows, maybe I'll go back on that decision, everything I say is still subject to change. Gilbert is also there, by the way. He's an Azurite-Malachite. 
Spinach Can is a moldavite, Lambchop is a red agate, Bread Boy is a bronzite, and I'm a bit on the undecided in terms of what Fridge ought to be. I sort of settled on scolecite. Didn't want to make it something as obvious as literal ice. Finally, Lamp Guy is a blue goldstone. It looks like a night sky, that's obvious enough 😂 
🤫🤫🤫 
Both Yellow and Special One are half-gems, a childrenite and a pink petalite respectively. Roy isn't a gem in this one, but you know me, I do love my AU variations, even if they don't ultimately lead to anything proper. He is inherently a citrine though, if you're wondering. And that's my favourite gem C: 
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elympios · 2 years
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For a character who is literally the only other Key of Kresnik that we know about, it is crazy how little we know about Cornelia as a person. We don’t even know how her own son felt about her because all Julius says about her is that she’s dead and he only remembers being looked after by Claudia, presumably even when Cornelia was still alive. I thought Cornelia was just your generic nice dead wife and nice dead mother but then. She was 22. Bisley was 15. The game argues that he did legit love her even after her death. What the hell did Claudia think, seeing her older sister have a child with a boy even younger than Claudia herself? What does Julius think about his mother? It doesn’t seem like he really thinks about her at all, he only seems to have good memories of Claudia and his resentment of Bisley has little to do with Cornelia’s death. Or maybe it’s the guilt of having killed Claudia and taking in Ludger that makes Julius fixate more on her.
I have so many questions and I can only make up answers!
#x2#v#i like to headcanon that cornelia had bought in fully to the destiny of the clan thing#and also that she was not a good person#but thats partially bc i have a fic thought where a fractured cornelia is brought into the prime dimension#and julius is just. DEEPLY UNCOMFORTABLE#but not as uncomfortable as he gets when cornelia pinpoints ludger as claudia’s son#cornelia’s talking about the good of the trial and julius just sits ludger down like#dont listen to her. and ludger doesnt really get it but hes like. its fine#bc saving the world is too much. he just wants to help elle and julius#i dont have a point i just think itd be funny to torment julius here#watching not just bisley coerce ludger into helping the trial but fractured cornelia making it sound like something noble and glorious#just the way julius himself had been raised to see the trial as noble#(partially inspired by mauro’s draft here but i do think claudia was the only person who had issues with everything)#(i like the idea of her trying to convince cornelia to talk to her son and cornelia just being too busy destroying worlds for the waymarkers#hearing about the chromatus and seeing julius train to destroy worlds too#not being able to do anything or stop it from happening and when cornelia dies and claudia has ludger she just KNOWS. theres no way to be#safe here. they cant be safe here not with the clan and not with bisley#i do wonder if she ever regretted leaving julius behind. because i like to think she did consider running away with him#but there would be no way they wouldnt immediately be hunted down#and NOW i need to write a fic of the last time julius ever saw claudia#it was probably something mundane... or maybe claudia knew it’d be her last time seeing him and made him one last tomato pasta...#.............. i have so many thoughts
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in middle school during my Intense Greek Mythology Phase, Artemis was, as you can likely guess, my best girl. Iphigenia was my OTHER best girl. Yes at the same time.
The story of Iphigenia always gets to me when it's not presented as a story of Artemis being capricious and having arbitrary rules about where you can and can't hunt, but instead, making a point about war.
Artemis was, among other things--patron of hunting, wild places, the moon, singlehood--the protector of young girls. That's a really important aspect she was worshipped as: she protected girls and young women. But she was the one who demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter in order for his fleet to be able to sail on for Troy.
There's no contradiction, though, when it's framed as, Artemis making Agamemnon face what he’s doing to the women and children of Troy. His children are not in danger. His son will not be thrown off the ramparts, his daughters will not be taken captive as sex slaves and dragged off to foreign lands, his wife will not have to watch her husband and brothers and children killed. Yet this is what he’s sailing off to Troy to inevitably do. That’s what happens in war. He’s going to go kill other people’s daughters; can he stand to do that to his own? As long as the answer is no—he can kill other people’s children, but not his own—he can’t sail off to war.
Which casts Artemis is a fascinating light, compared to the other gods of the Trojan War. The Trojan War is really a squabble of pride and insults within the Olympian family; Eris decided to cause problems on purpose, leaving Aphrodite smug and Hera and Athena snubbed, and all of this was kinda Zeus’s fault in the first place for not being able to keep it in his pants. And out of this fight mortal men were their game pieces and mortal cities their prizes in restoring their pride. And if hundreds of people die and hundred more lives are ruined, well, that’s what happens when gods fight. Mortals pay the price for gods’ whims and the gods move on in time and the mortals don’t and that’s how it is.
And women especially—Zeus wanted Leda, so he took her. Paris wanted Helen, so he took her. There’s a reason “the Trojan women” even since ancient times were the emblems of victims of a war they never wanted, never asked for, and never had a say in choosing, but was brought down on their heads anyway.
Artemis, in the way of gods, is still acting through human proxies. But it seems notable to me to cast her as the one god to look at the destruction the war is about to wreak on people, and challenge Agamemnon: are you ready to kill innocents? Kill children? Destroy families, leave grieving wives and mothers? Are you? Prove it.
It reminds me of that idea about nuclear codes, the concept of implanting the key in the heart of one of the Oval Office staffers who holds the briefcase, so the president would have to stab a man with a knife to get the key to launch the nukes. “That’s horrible!,” it’s said the response was. “If he had to do that, he might never press the button!” And it’s interesting to see Artemis offering Agamemnon the same choice. You want to burn Troy? Kill your own daughter first. Show me you understand what it means that you’re about to do.
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multific · 22 days
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Motherhood
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Yautja x Reader
Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human. 
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You felt sore all over. 
You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.
You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.
Yet, something felt out of place.
As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.
The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you. 
You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.
He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up. 
It wasn’t always like that.
He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.
You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.
It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.
He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.
He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.
You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.
You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.
He laid in your lap.
“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands. 
You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.
He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.
This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.
Your baby.
This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.
It was crazy to think about.
Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange. 
You looked at your son.
“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.
You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.
You watched as he fed. 
He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.
Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.
And your son was no exception.
While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son. 
A highly anticipated member.
Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.
One of which was to bring a son into the world.
Which you just managed to do.
You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.
And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.
Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.
“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.
Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.
Did Yautja babies even burp?
Guess you will find out soon.
He did burp.
A small little burp.
And soon, he was off again.
You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.
You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.
He looked at you then at your son in your arms.
“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.
You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers. 
Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.
Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.
But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.
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Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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woodland-gremlin · 21 days
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Ancestor's Fury AU
( Inspired by @glow-in-the-dark-death and @vixen-uchiha )
The Infinite Realms are, well, Infinite. They are the doorway between dimensions and contain every after life. This includes the Krypton one.
When Danny learned that the Infinite realms contained the afterlife for aliens he didn’t stop gushing about it to Jazz for days. He was awestruck. Not everyone would stop to talk to this excited child, especially when they don’t know that he is the King, but some would, like the Kryptons. They were quite happy to talk to the boy king, especially when they could get updates on the last of their kind in the Living Realm. When they learned about the Anti-Ecto Acts and the role the Justice league and the last of their living had in it they were angry and confused. To learn about why the Justice League didn't do anything about the Acts they traveled into the Living Realm to find out. This is how they found out about how Superman treats Superboy.
When Danny first told them about Superboy they threw a party, after all they gained a new family member. Look at the baby, isn’t he adorable?! Traveling to the Living Realm and finding out he was a clone didn’t change that fact. Learning how Superman treats him for being a clone however opens the floodgates of their fury. They were already weary because of the inaction with the Anti-Ecto Acts and now he is calling the baby an “it”! Not happening on their watch.
Then they remember the boy king. The one who brought this to their attention in the first place and who has a clone he treats as family. So they decided to bring this to his attention.
Danny, when he learns of this, is furious. He knows what it is like to be cloned by your worst enemy in an attempt to replace you, but that is on the fruitloop who cloned you not the child who was dragged into their scheme and is as much of a victim as you are. He could never treat Ellie the way Superdouche does. For Ancients sake he was barely a teenager when it happened and yet he handled it better than a full grown adult superhero (not that he should be called that after what he has done).
In conclusion no one is happy with the news, especially Ellie. She is furious with how her fellow clone is treated and is definitely planning Superasses demise, though silver lining, clone buddy!
All of this leads to Danny putting a blacklist on Superman. No one from the realms can help him and are welcome to beat him up as long as no one else gets hurt. So when the JL Dark gets called to help because Superman keeps getting targeted by supernatural beings they refuse and explain the black listing. The JL then bullies John Constintine into summoning the Ghost King, who is his nephew, not that they know that, to retract the blacklisting.
Danny: Yeah no, can’t help you there. The ghosts hunting you down are not very happy with your parenting, and neither am I for that matter.
Superman: ??? I don’t have a son.
Danny: *sarcastically* So the kid running around with the moniker Superboy is someone else’s Krypton kid? Sorry, didn’t know there was another Krypton that survived the destruction of their planet.
Superman: It’s a clone, not my son.
Danny: *pissed* He is not an it! You may not consider him your son but the ghosts of Krypton do. Your parents thought the Kents raised you better than that.
Meanwhile, elsewhere:
Ellie: *tackles Superboy* Clone Buddy!!
Superboy: *surprised Pikachu face*
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nerdpoe · 5 months
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Maddie and Jack Fenton get a wake up call, and it's in the worst possible way.
Their son got caught up in a plot via a Supervillain, and he and a bunch of other teen heroes are trapped in a room slowly filling with water. The Supervillain is broadcasting the footage to the world, and just letting it play. Forcing heroes to watch their mentees die.
The teen heroes can't get out.
Until their own son, Danny, takes a deep breath and orders them all behind him. That he can do something. But they'll have to handle the rest.
Then, Danny screams.
The wall is blown clean off.
The teen heroes swoop in to drag him along, and they leave the room.
What the teens don't know, however, is that the cameras throughout the entire facility are recording and broadcasting as they come into view. Apparently, the Supervillain had accounted for this and wanted to broadcast them dying from other traps.
But the professional teen heroes are doing a great job clearing everything out.
Danny is...looking unwell.
Jack and Maddie are concerned. They didn't know he was a Meta, so he definitely didn't practice that power; had he pushed himself too hard?
Then the teen heroes notice and start asking.
Danny answers.
He's terrified of his parents finding out he's a Meta. He has a contingency to run away if they do. He says his parents are only focused on their inventions and hunting a certain group of interdimensional beings. That because of his abilities and Ecto-contamination, their weapons keep hurting him and they refuse to get rid of them, so he clearly knows what they value more.
That they might think he's possessed and harm him to "fix" him.
That he has nightmares about waking up on the operating table in their basement, cut open with his organs missing.
That whenever he sees his mother holding a knife or his father holding a gun, he has to fight the urge to run for safety.
And Jack and Maddie, being stared down by Black Canary and Green Arrow (who had been sent to comfort but are now bracing to protect their own son from them), feel like someone has carved out their own organs.
They have to be better.
TLDR: Danny almost gets got by a Supervillain plot meant for others teen heroes he was around as a civilian, he knows he's being recorded in the beginning and uses the Ghostly Wail to break the walls to escape, and kinda sorta trauma dumps on the teen heroes not knowing he's forcing his parents to watch and listen to him list all their failures in 4k.
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reasonsforhope · 8 months
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"Irish conservationists report that the magnificent osprey has successfully bred in the wilds of the Emerald Isle for the first time in almost 250 years.
Worldwide, ospreys are doing great—listed as “Least Concern” by the IUCN who add they are increasing in population. However their massive brown and white wings have been absent from Irish skies for two centuries after being hunted to extinction.
The last recorded osprey to nest in Ireland was found in 1779, writes the Ireland-based conservation group Golden Eagle Trust on Facebook.
Visiting ospreys sometimes stop on the island to rest, but almost since the signing of the US Declaration of Independence, no pair has ever deemed it a safe environment to raise young.
A nesting pair (ospreys mate for life) was discovered by experienced birdwatcher Giles Knight, the Environmental Farming Scheme Advisor with Ulster Wildlife, a conservation non-profit.
“Along with my son Eoin, I have watched the adults return to the same site since 2021, so you can imagine my excitement the moment that I saw three chicks and two adults this year,” said Knight in a statement. “It was a rub-your-eyes, once-in-a-lifetime moment; an absolute highlight of my 30-year wildlife career—like finding long-lost treasure.”
“With at least two of the chicks fledging this season, this is a huge conservation success story and indicates a healthy wetland ecosystem with plenty of suitable habitat and fish to bring this apex predator back to our skies and plunging into the Fermanagh Lakelands. Truly the return of a living countryside!” ...
The old Gaelic name for osprey was “Iascaire Coirneach”, meaning “Tonsured Fisherman”, possibly related to how its black eye band and white crown give it the appearance of the semi-bald tonsure typical of medieval Christian monks, the Golden Eagle Trust wrote on Facebook in a celebratory post.
“Now these birds are back in Ireland and breeding successfully, it is critical that they are left in peace so their numbers can continue to grow by returning year on year to breed,” Knight added in the statement. “We believe and hope that this could be the start of a raptor dynasty.”"
-via Good News Network, August 27, 2023
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kamaluhkhan · 3 months
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GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)
read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)
summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.
warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡
author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)
♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo
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(i. he had a savior complex) 
if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you. 
no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.  
you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not. 
you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.
everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp. 
and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.
you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld. 
you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do. 
i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 
you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost — 
the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing. 
your eyelids fluttered open.
it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.
standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan. 
he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.
"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.
lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury. 
"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”
you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him. 
lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room. 
“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.” 
“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.” 
he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones. 
you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.
“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”
luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.
“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?” 
clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.
“what are you doing here?” he practically growled. 
“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”
at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with. 
it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess. 
needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend. 
but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you. 
“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia. 
even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more. 
“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”
“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.” 
clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.
“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned. 
“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.
“are you feeling okay?”
“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.
a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.
“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”
you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence. 
when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.
it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay. 
manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal. 
despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.
“luke.”
for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.
he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”
“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 
you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin. 
“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”
you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh. 
“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”
there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:
“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 
luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too. 
you gripped his wrist to steady him. 
“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours. 
“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”
“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”
 he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close. 
“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….” 
you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you. 
you refused to lose hope. 
no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.
“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.
“but —” 
“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?” 
as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action. 
chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.
luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.
you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.
after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.
you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.
you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.
“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth. 
you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.
“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier. 
no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it. 
you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him. 
when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering. 
“thanks, karma.”
you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin. 
“what happened? did clarisse —”
“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied. 
you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.
“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”
“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile. 
it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher. 
fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family. 
the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family. 
you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you. 
the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin. 
(ii. he had an ego)
according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.
she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.
“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 
annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast. 
"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive." 
"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate. 
"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight." 
you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.
“nice work, rodriguez.” 
"we're going out tonight?"
you pressed your knee to luke's under the table. 
"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate." 
so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed. 
there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol. 
"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!" 
everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks. 
the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.
for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.
there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends —  the people you loved — had beat the odds. 
so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental? 
beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out. 
under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones. 
whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire. 
“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.  
his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips. 
to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since. 
not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric. 
you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.
so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music. 
after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.
“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”
“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.
it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core. 
“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”
“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”
your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon. 
the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.
and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.
you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right? 
luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something. 
maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it. 
before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?
luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more. 
you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at. 
“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.
silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink. 
“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”
“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”
“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.
“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10  denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”
“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.” 
you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry. 
“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip. 
“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”
you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 
“well, we aren’t.” 
that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner. 
“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”
“cowards?” you suggested.
silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”
neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.
suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier. 
“i am not a coward.” 
without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you. 
part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat. 
“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea. 
“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?” 
someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger. 
“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.
“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 
you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.
the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”
“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.
the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.
“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.
"i don't owe you anything." 
"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.
you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.
“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”
“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”
his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —
you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.
“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady. 
it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender. 
“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”
you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix. 
“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”
your fingers tightened into a fist.
“that is not —”
“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”
“luke, what are you —”
“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.” 
“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted. 
you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process. 
you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you. 
he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends. 
“see what i mean?”
“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”
oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….
“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”
rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 
“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.” 
luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.
"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."
rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.
you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire. 
“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk. 
that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.
“what?” 
“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”
you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”
“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”
he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night. 
“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”
“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.” 
luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe. 
“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.” 
you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.
"what about the redhead?"
luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."
"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too." 
"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?" 
luke turned towards the exit.
"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?" 
luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."
his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker. 
it made you want to kiss him all over again.
(iii. he lied without flinching)
you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 
he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.
when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura. 
ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin. 
you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother. 
“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”
“actually, we were just —”
“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning. 
“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”
luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 
“i already said no. end of discussion.”
“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.
the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.
“okay, seriously. what’s —”
“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed. 
once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly. 
“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.
“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”
you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.
“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained. 
“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”
you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend. 
sitting down next to him, you sighed.
“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?” 
clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style. 
you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:
luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”
“what?”
he leaned in close, voice low.
“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”
“no. no. she wouldn’t —”
“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”
“we all are,” you pointed out.
“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”
you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it. 
“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”
luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 
“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?” 
you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.
at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.
he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?
you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.
(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)
 it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.
it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend. 
luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic. 
you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through. 
no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same. 
that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous. 
“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”
you felt him chuckle against your skin.
“since when do you care about that?” 
“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin." 
"that’s only if we get caught." 
luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.
it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much. 
zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.
"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.
you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.
it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming.  the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.
luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.
he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your come.
"yes, sweetheart?"
“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned. 
once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.
“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you. 
“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away. 
you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”
“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.
you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. it might have been strange, but you had a favorite — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.
if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it. 
“eyes up here, beautiful.” 
when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.
“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”
you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.
“yes,” you finally answered.  "please."
luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin. 
after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard,  to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.
luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 
there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.
you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit. 
“do you see my shirt there?”
luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:
“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”
you placed your hands on his cheeks. 
“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.
“luke, baby, look at me.”
when he finally did, your heart ached. 
it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.
but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you. 
“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”
luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine. 
 “if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”
luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you. 
“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”
“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke. 
thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second. 
you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.
“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”
“sparring?” 
“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”
“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”
“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”
you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.
“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted. 
“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.
“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”
as if either of you could forget marathoning the entire twilight saga with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.
you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.
zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.
luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.
luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.
“easy there, edward,” you joked, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck. 
you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.
“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen.
“this is the skin of a killer, bella!” he mimicked.
you laughed at the reference, but when luke seemed to realize what he said, you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips, though you didn't know why.
“i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.
“you won’t.” 
at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing. 
for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.
you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.
the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?
in the words of bella swan: he was the one you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with. 
except your life wasn't some cliché yet endearing love story about fictional vampires and werewolves. 
it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late. 
(v. he made you look so naive)  
there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.
yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous. 
luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die. 
you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.
dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.
“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, as usual. 
you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left. 
“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.
you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“what’s that supposed to mean?” 
“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly. 
a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath. 
“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”  
“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”
your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.
you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.
because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?
luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.
you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.
vi. he was a vice you could never shake
calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)
the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums. 
it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.
you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp. 
but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup. 
sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 
you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with. 
you missed —
no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore. 
you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds. 
before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse. 
and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”
ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday. 
i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.
think of the devil, and he shall appear.
it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.  
you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 
i can’t stand to hear your name
you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you. 
it was just that — a bad feeling, right?
 you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. 
oh baby, you really blew it.
the song ended, and your blood ran cold.
it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed. 
as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.
those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded. 
so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light. 
“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”
you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends. 
as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor. 
“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”
“because i’m alone.”
“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”  
after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about. 
luke tried again. 
“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.” 
you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him. 
“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.
“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”
your eyes grazed luke carefully.
he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 
you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip. 
“no. you don’t get to just —”
the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.
“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?” 
“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”
his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness. 
she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.
“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded. 
“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”
stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing. 
 “great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”
you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise. 
“i know….i fucked up, karma.”
you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.
“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”
“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”
“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”
luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 
“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension. 
you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away. 
“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”
“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”
kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”
baby. you could have laughed. 
“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.
kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 
“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”
“that’s not my home.”
out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time. 
you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes. 
luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.
you stepped in front of luke. 
“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”
kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws. 
“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards. 
you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again. 
again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break. 
it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of. 
you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife. 
you were definitely out of practice. 
“kelli!” 
you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.
“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”
luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”
luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.
you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other. 
luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.
“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.
“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.” 
to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.
“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”
“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.
the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled. 
“okay, we need to get you —”
“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced. 
the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.
“i don’t need your help,�� you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”
you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.
“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”
“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”
“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”
looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped. 
bad habits were always the hardest to break.
“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”
luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”
you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home. 
(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)
your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.
“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”
you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid  kit.
luke knelt down in front of you. 
“can i take your shirt off?” 
you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar. 
there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.
at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too. 
what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.
and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.
“wait. what happened?”
“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.
“luke.”
“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”
kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember. 
wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him. 
“can i take this off?”
luke nodded. 
the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.
like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.
“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.
our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that. 
“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”
you couldn’t help but add that last part. 
“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle. 
you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.
it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream. 
luke just had to make everything so complicated.
“they’re fine, all things considered.”
you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 
he was quiet for a moment.
“you seem to be doing alright, though?”
you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head. 
"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."
"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking. 
"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze." 
"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat." 
you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.
the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee. 
you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.
luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.
"yeah?"
"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.
"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."
"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here." 
you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything. 
you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions. 
once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.
"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.
"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”
you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”
luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 
“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….” 
his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.
“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”
“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”
something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:
“i’ll do it.” 
before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.
neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him. 
the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.
once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.
“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.
“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.
you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.
the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.
you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.
you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed. 
neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet…. 
part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end. 
luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.
what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?
leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?
now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —
you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.
luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.
“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.” 
you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along. 
“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”
“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”
it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest. 
how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on. 
just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.
another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.
you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —
luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.
“no kissing,” he warned. 
“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”
luke swallowed thickly.
you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.
it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice. 
“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”
“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”
luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 
he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes. 
“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.  
“yes. please.”
you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.
luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him. 
“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”
luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.
you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.
“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone. 
luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:
“you’re such a —”
you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress. 
“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.
you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.   
in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. 
“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed. 
slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too. 
sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.  
you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some. 
“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out. 
what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out. 
there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your back encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.
when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines. 
“fuck it. please — kiss me.”
you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.
luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. 
“please,” luke pleaded once more.
his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached. 
you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.
yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.
you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.
“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again.  “i missed you so fucking much.” 
luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same. 
it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.
you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:
“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”
you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”
“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest. 
you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.
“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.
you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.
“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”
maybe that was true.
in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice. 
deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?
“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago. 
"i guess not."
you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.
"how's your shoulder?" 
"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you." 
those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.
you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle. 
matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other. 
"i love you too.”
at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.
maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.
luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.
you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.
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black-rose-writings · 9 months
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Things I have gathered about Danny Phanton without having ever watched the show (from posts and fanfics):
There's ghosts and they're kind of assholes, but they're also all friends and have christmas parties. Their presence is treated as a mild annoyance by everyone except the ghost hunters.
The main character is a dead 14yo. Sometimes. He's also trans.
There are adult professional ghost hunters around. Literally all of them seem like they are just taking out their serial killer urges on ghosts. "Man is the real monster" trope in action. At least some of the ghost hunters are a Men In Black parody.
The dead 14yo actually the most competent at removing ghosts from the mortal plane.
There is another 14yo who is not dead and also hunting ghosts. She's somehow also more competent at it than the adults.
The MC's parents are ghost hunters and want to torture him into perma-death. That is somehow not the biggest problem with their parenting.
(Like, I get that adults in kids' media need to be kinda dumb and immature for the premise of the show/book/movie/whatever to work, but I'm getting the feeling the adults in this show cross the line of 'plot necessary dumbass' into 'fucked up and abusive' territorry.)
One of the ghosts is tiny, piloting a giant mecha suit and dedicated to skinning the MC and hanging his skin on his wall. He somehow also has a cool rocker girlfriend and thinks this will impress her. Jury's out on whether or not that's a good strategy.
There is a ghost called the Box Ghost, who demands to be taken seriously. Nobody takes him seriously.
The MC's nemesis is another dude who is sometimes dead. He looks like a vampire and swears in food. He also wants to kill the MC's dad (for mostly valid reasons) and bang his mom (for no good reason at all) and adopt the MC as his son(mostly because of his hangups around the parents, not because said parents suck at being parents). In a villainous and fucked up way, because he's the main antagonists. He's also a billionaire, has a cat, and is weirdly obsessed with american football (IDK jack shit about american football, but the level of obsession is treated as not normal by the characters so I will assume it is weird and just how americans be like).
There were 3 seasons, but half of the fandom is convinced the third one may have been a fever dream because it's so bad.
There was a finale that everyone pretends didn't happen because it sucked.
There is at least one time travel fix it episode and the time travel ghost wears way too many watches.
The MC has two living friends - Wade from Kim Possible, but thinner and leaves his house, and a jewish goth vegan.
The MC has a clone and she's a baby and a gremlin.
The ships all have the weirdest fucking names.
Somehow half the named characters being dead is not the angstiest part of the show.
I kinda want to know how someone came up with it and what drugs they were taking. IDK if I want to try some or avoid them, but it would be good to know either way.
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
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summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
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There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
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1-800-zombify · 7 months
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Jake’s Advice 💪
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Neteyam x Metkayina!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Neteyam being stupid & has a crush, Jake has ok dad advice, Neteyam not knowing Earth terms/phrases, Y/N is Ronal & Tonowari’s kid, Y/N isn’t actually in this - she’s just talked ab
Summary: Neteyam musters up confidence to ask his dad for advice on how to win over a girl after struggling and embarrassing himself.
NETEYAM PEERED INTO THE marui, his shadow casting over his father. He sat on the floor with his back towards his son, methodically cutting fruit. Jake’s ears twitched towards the sound of Neteyam’s footsteps. Jake didn’t bother to turn to him.
“What is it now?” Jake mumbled, laying the knife down, as Neteyam sat in front of him.
A beat passed.
“Dad, I need your help.”
Jake pressed his eyes closed. His lips pressed into a thin line when he sighed, “What happened? I told you to keep an eye on your brother —,”
Neteyam frantically shook his head, “No, Dad, he didn’t do anything.”
“… oh,” Jake blinked. “Well, that makes things a little easier. What is it?”
He rubbed the corner of his eye, fingers slowly traveling up to his temple. His ears flattened with embarrassment, as his eyes darted across the floor.
“I, uh…,” Neteyam paused with a sheepish smile. He propped his elbow on his thigh, as he leaned the side of his face into his palm.
Jake eyed his son suspiciously, observing the dazed far-off look on Neteyam’s face, the way his tail seemed to wag like a dog’s. He furrowed his brows, “Spit it out.”
“Well…,” Neteyam sat up straighter, hands now sitting on top of his knees. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Jake replied bluntly.
“How did you make Mom like you?”
Jake scoffed, “She doesn’t. She just gave up trying to get rid of me.” Jake watched Neteyam awkwardly nod at his words.
He then realized where this was going, and his soul almost left his body.
The painful teenage conversation he prayed to avoid. Jake lightly hit his head, mumbling, “I’m joking.”
“Right,” Neteyam muttered. “Then… what did you do?”
“I went to the Tree of Voices.”
Neteyam winced, a disgusted expression creasing on his features, “No, Dad—,”
Jake raised his brows, blinking dumbly. Judging by that reaction — “Who told you about that?” Jake pressed, surprised.
Neteyam stuttered, “Uh — I, um,”
“Whatever, doesn’t matter,” Jake waved his hand dismissively. He mentally noted to hunt down all his teenagers later for a quick chat. He sighed, “Just tell me what this is all about.”
Neteyam swallowed, “I like someone?”
Jake couldn’t help flinching and immediately shutting his eyes at the inquisitive statement. His calloused fingers rubbed the top of his flat nose bridge, taking in a deep inhale, “Is that a question?”
“No?” Neteyam shook his head. He repeated the word more affirmably, “No.”
“…Who is it?” Jake uttered exasperatedly.
Neteyam flinched at the tiredness in his voice, his father’s yellow eyes boring into his. He nervously licked his lips, his gaze falling upon the floor, when he practically whispered, “Y/N.”
“Oh God.”
Neteyam looked at him, tilting his head, “Who?”
He ignored him, rubbing his eyelids. “Are you sure?” Jake inquired, repeating the name, “Y/N? Y/N, the chief’s kid?”
“Who else…?”
“That girl’s tough as nails,” he mumbled.
Neteyam blinked, “I don’t know what that means.”
“You — whatever, I’ll explain it later,” Jake paused. “You came here to ask me how to ask a girl out?”
He shrugged, “Yeah but…”
“But what?”
“I messed up.”
Jake’s eye twitched. It was more common to hear those words from his younger son, but it still stung nonetheless. “What do you mean ‘messed up’?” He asked carefully.
“Well… uh, I thought I could mimic the underwater dances Tsireya was showing us,” Neteyam awkwardly chuckled, nervously adjusting his armband. He looked up at his dad. Jake was amused to see his stoic son so flustered and worked up. “I didn’t do it… I didn’t do it right.”
Jake laughed, and Neteyam was bewildered.
“Dad —,”
The calloused pale blue pads of Jake’s hand pressed themself against the crown of Neteyam’s head, a meek attempt of fatherly comfort. Jake sighs lightheartedly, shaking Neteyam’s head, “I’m sure, if anything, she found it funny. You’re gonna have a harder time if you always take yourself seriously.”
“But she didn’t laugh,” Neteyam explained. There was a wave of sudden distress washing over his body. His striped tail slowly flickered from side to side, as he picked at his nails. “She just looked at me and did the finger-talk.”
“Neteyam, you’re fine,” Jake tossed the cut slices into a nearby wooden bowl. He picked up his small knife, resumed cutting the leftover fruit. “You know what she said?” He asked with a quick glance. Neteyam shook his head, and Jake continued, “You need to practice sign language more then.”
Neteyam rolled his eyes, “Dad,” he mumbled with slight irritation.
“What? You don’t know what she said, but you’re supposed to learn how to understand. Simple as that,” Jake shrugged. He wiped sweat off of his brow, the heat and humidity in the hut suddenly overbearing. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, kid.”
“How do I make her like me?” Neteyam had asked it with the teenage theatrics Jake recalled from Kiri and Lo’ak. His son’s elbows were propped on his folded legs, his slender hands clasped together like he usually did in old clan meetings.
Jake raised his brows. His thin lips were evidently entertained by Neteyam’s anxiety, as they curved into teasing smile. Jake shrugged again, replying half-jokingly, “You’re the son of Toruk Makto and are an exceptional warrior, I’m sure she’s already very impressed.”
“It takes more than skill to win a girl over,” Neteyam groaned, finding the conversation hard to live through. He rubbed his eyelids til there were colorful spots in his vision.
“You telling me?” Jake laughed, raising his empty hand defensively. Once his laughter died down, he cleared his throat, his ears twitching at the top of his head, as Jake fell into thought. “Girls don’t just like brawn, you need to be smart too, son. Be compassionate, observant, witty — be more like your sisters.”
“Dad!”
“You ask me for advice, and all I get is judgment. What do you want from me?” Jake scratched his head. He sighed through his nose, “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you need to make it clear that you like her. Give her compliments, make her gifts, whatever. Fight for her — okay, not actually fight, but you know what I’m saying?”
Neteyam nodded timidly. He listened closely on the little guidance his father offered, digging his nail into a scab. Jake resumed speaking, “Don’t be so easily discouraged, but don’t do what I did. You can be stupid, you can be head over heels in love, but don’t be annoying.”
Neteyam’s eyes narrowed with puzzlement. He spoke up, clearing his voice with a soft cough, “Isn’t it annoying when someone doesn’t give up though?”
“Oh, she’ll cave eventually. That’s one thing I can assure you, son.” He repeated wisely, “Eventually. If it worked for me, it’ll work for you, I’m sure.”
“And… if it doesn’t?”
“Don’t come home.”
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byunpum · 4 months
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Mama's Boy | Part 5
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Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's
Warning: cozy moments, conflict, family problems
Note: I hope you like this part, the next one is gonna be the final part...Thank you sooo much!! btw I recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD).
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)
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The previous day's argument was very intense. Leaving the family in a very delicate state. Even you decided to sleep alone in a kind of bed you made. You were so upset with jake, you couldn't understand why he was like that with lo'ak. Sometimes you thought Jake was ashamed of lo'ak…ashamed that you were his mother. You had been sitting quietly in the marui all day, still feeling a little bad. You were taking care of tuk, the girl was by your side. Making a necklace for you, while she was telling you everything she did in the morning. "Love be careful…you can hurt yourself" you help tuk with the needle she was using. At that, you can see how jake enters the marui, he had a basket full of fish. Looking quickly at you, walking towards where he used to leave the food that had to be prepared. You decide to ignore him, and be playful with tuk.
"baby…can we talk?" asks jake, the man had approached you, sitting down next to you. You on the other hand were acting like he wasn't there. You look up, and sigh loudly. "Tuk honey, why don't you let mommy and daddy talk alone" you help the girl pick up her materials, and wait for her to come out of the marui doing some jumping jacks. You smile a little to see how happy tuk was, oblivious to what was going on. "Tell me?" you speak, looking at jake waiting for him to start talking. "Is it true that you are thinking of leaving? "jake looks at you, you could tell he was worried. It was too dangerous for you to go back to the jungle. The RDA was looking for Jake, and when Jake's name was on the line his whole family was involved. The months you had to be alone, you never left the lab.
"I see neytiri told you everything" you say, trying not to make eye contact with him. "Love…we can fix this" Jake touches your hand, but you push him away. "Jake it's not with me that you have to fix things, it's with your son. Your behavior towards him…it's terrible." You speak, trying to hold back your tears. "Y/n you're misunderstanding things I" jake speaks, but is interrupted when you turn around and are now looking directly at him. "Jake… I have a question for you, what does neteyam like the most?" you ask. "A-ahh he likes hunting, he likes to ride his ikran. He's also a great talker," says jake.
"Okay, now tell me what lo'ak likes?" you speak up, knowing jake wouldn't answer quickly like the other question. Jake gets nervous, looking around for a moment. "He likes…he likes being with his brother. " jake speaks timidly, watching as your eyebrows draw together in anger. "Lo'ak likes to ride around and investigate things. He loves to practice with his bow, he likes to spend time with his sister kiri and all he looks forward to is his father telling him he did a great job" you were already very annoyed.
"I know…" jake speaks softly. Shaking his head, look embarrassed. "Jake your sons are not soldiers…they are children. Children who need love and attention from their father. Neteyam is not the only one here who needs to be trained. Lo'ak too, he needs you to treat him with respect and love. What does it cost you to do that?" you speak, watching as jake pulled his knees up to his chest. Becoming more like a little ball. "I just…want them to be strong and …. I'm afraid they'll be weak and won't be able to survive this chaos we live in" jake tries to explain. And yes, he was a little bit right. But that didn't justify the preference he had over neteyam. "Jake, I know all that" you wave your hands all around you. "This is all chaos, I know this isn't our home. I know what we're going through, but what does lo'ak have to do with it? Why can't you treat him like you treat kiri or neteyam or tuk? What did he do to you?" you speak, getting up from the floor. You had to walk, because the rage was consuming you. You hated it when jake tried to avoid trouble. Telling you smith answers to distract you. "He didn't do anything" jake follows you with his eyes.
"I feel like sometimes you just treat him like that, because he came from me. Because he's not completely na'vi." You had tears in your eyes, you didn't know why you were so sentimental. Even though this situation always broke your heart, you wanted lo'ak to feel loved. "Y/n never say that… this has nothing to do with you being his mother" jake in one swift movement. He takes your arm, to pull you closer to him. "I wouldn't ask for another mother for my son, you are an excellent mother" jake lets his head lay on your chest. He is silent for a moment, you didn't want to keep arguing with him. You loved your family, you loved jake, you hated being upset with him. "Lo'ak is how I was…he is so much like the stupid jake who betrayed and endangered people he cared about. That stupid jake got innocent people killed" jake speaks, you knew he was talking about grace. She had been so important to you.
You take jake's face in your hands, pulling his face up so he could look you in the eye. "But that stupid jake was the one who saved a whole clan, that stupid jake is strong and brave. That stupid jake was the one I fell in love with" you speak softly. Tears streamed down Jake's cheeks. "I want you to be the person that stupid Jake needed, for lo'ak. He needs you…" you speak, feeling jake hug you. You both stand there for a moment. "I don't want him to make mistakes that he'll regret later," jake says. "He'll get in trouble if you don't help…try to be a better parent to him. That's all I ask of you" you start walking away from jake. Picking up some things tuk had left on the ground, you go to look for the girl.
"Do you think you would have been happy if instead of me, tom was the one in this body?" jake asks you. You knew this was tormenting Jake. You had been tom's girlfriend just before he went to earth. And there he was murdered. When jake came to the RDA and took tom's place. For you it was a big shock, Jake was just like your ex-boyfriend, but so different at the same time. You had to admit that Jake was the only thing that kept you sane those months. Not to mention the relationship that formed between the two of you. Jake allowed you to see neytiri again and get closer to the clan. Jake could be a fool, but the fool you liked the most. The rest is history.
You turn around before leaving the marui, tears in your eyes. "Believe it or not, I am very happy…but I wish your insecurities didn't affect this family" you speak, walking out of the marui leaving jake alone with his thoughts. You liked that Jake opened up to you, but you would like to see him try to improve his relationship with his children. Because it wasn't just lo'ak, neteyam was also affected by jake's treatment. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath and wiping away your tears. You calm down a bit, and start looking for tuk. Luckily for you, the girl wasn't far away. She was sitting with neteyam playing.
You approach the children, see how they look at you and their eyes light up. "Hello" you greet them, sitting down next to tuk. "Look my love, you forgot these things" you hand the things to tuk. The little girl thanks you, she didn't dare to come back for them. "Thank you mommy" tuk says, now sitting on your lap. You can feel neteyam's eyes glued to you, he knew things were not good between his parents. The news that you were likely to leave had destroyed him. Neteyam could be strong, and always be by Jake and Neytiri's side. But you were his refuge, where he could go and be a child again. If he was to be judged for a second. "Mom?" neteyam speaks to you, you look at him quickly. "Mmm?" you are helping tuk, when you feel neteyam sit down next to you. "Is it true that you are going to go and leave us?" neteyam speaks waiting for you to answer. "Mom? You are going to leave us?" yells tuk. You sigh, you had gone through a pretty strong disappointment a few minutes ago and you wanted to control yourself.
"Where did you hear that neteyam?" you look at the boy, you thought you had argued in private, but you guess your screams were too loud. "We heard it by accident, I promise" neteyam gets nervous, but you hold his hand to calm him down. "mom if you go…can I come with you?" neteyam was getting sentimental, you caress his face a little. Laughing a little and tapping your arms to give him support. "I'm not going anywhere…but if I did. Of course you can go with me." You speak, watching as neteyam pouts. You joke a little, in order to change the topic. You didn't like them getting involved in adult issues, you knew they had been through a lot. At such a young age.
It wasn't long before you started to feel a little dizzy. You tried to hold your child tighter in your lap, but you felt like you were about to throw up. Never having felt like this before. You push tuk a little so that the girl slips out of your lap, placing your hands on your stomach, you were in a lot of pain. Neteyam noticed this, and quickly began to help you. "What's wrong mom?" neteyam holds your shoulders. The vomiting was something you couldn't help, and you swore you were emptying yourself alive. neteyam held you so you wouldn't mess yourself up. "Mom!" the boy whines, he has never seen you like this before. It was so strong that as soon as you recover, your sight goes blank.
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You start to get up, you could hear some voices around you. You didn't open your eyes yet, but you could distinguish them. One was from neytiri, and the other was from ronal. You could feel some warm things on your body, and some parts were wet. You start to become conscious, opening your eyes a little at a time. "Ma Y/n!!!" neytiri sounded so happy, she had a nice smile on her face. On the other hand, ronal was moving away from your body. You could tell she looked exhausted. "What happened?" you try to get up, but you barely had any strength. "You fainted again and neteyam warned us" neytiri explains, stroking your hair. Something seemed curious about neytiri, she was supposed to be worried and she looked so happy. "You are sick…you need to rest and take medicine" said Ronal, the woman was already looking in some containers for the herbs to prepare the medicine you had to take. The more you woke up you realized that you were in the marui that Ronal used to take care of the sick na'vi. "And the children?" you look weakly at neytiri. "They are with Jake, don't worry," Neytiri speaks, settling in closer to your side.
You rest a little, but you feel how Ronal starts to remove the towels that were warm before. Drying your exposed skin a bit. He had been using compresses and hot towels to try to get you up. "The medicine is a little strong, but it won't hurt the baby," says Ronal, holding out a jar of carracol. Your eyes widen in surprise, what the hell was this woman talking about, pregnant? This woman is crazy. "Baby? No, I'm not pregnant" you speak, now you had recovered all your strength. You were surprised. You look at neytiri, but she had a look that was worrying you. "ney" you push her a little, you needed her to speak. "Y/N I thought you are…since the symptoms" neytiri can't contain her joy. "Plus we did an abdominal test and we could feel something" ronal looks at you, handing you the drink. You are confused, and now you were about to vomit at the news. How could that be possible, you were sure you weren't pregnant.
Hey, you and Jake had been together. Well…ever since you had joined the clan. You two hadn't kept your hands off each other. Well… the three of you. You were sure neytiri knew you weren't pregnant. The idea of having a baby doesn't enter your head, not now that the atmosphere is so tense. You take the drink, you notice how Ronal is watching you. Making sure you take all the medicine. "Ahh it's disgusting" you complain. Listening to neytiri laugh, you liked seeing her like that. It's been a long time since you've seen her this happy, it was genuine happiness. "Well…I'll let you rest here. I'll come by later and check on you" ronal gets up from the floor, and walks out of the marui. Leaving you and neytiri alone. You were exhausted, but you can feel neytiri touch your stomach. Causing you to look at her with surprise. "We will have another baby ma y/n" neytiri smiles. "But when?" you had many questions, when you found out you were pregnant with lo'ak it was because norm did a test on you. But now it had been a natural test that na'vi women did to find out if they were pregnant. "I think it was the day at the beach" neytir laughs a little, blushing. You start to remember and you want to curl into a ball. You were scared, really scared.
"Hey, don't be scared. I'll be right here with you. And we've been looking for this for so many years," says Neytiri. And she was right, it got to the stage where the pregnancies were more about the two of you. They were very intimate between you and Neytiri. You wanted to be in on the whole process, including the excitement of being pregnant. It would build on the bonds that would be formed with the children. "I know…but this news is very unexpected…and even more so now that I want to kill Jake," you say. ""You haven't talked?"" asks neytiri, she wanted this to be resolved. "Ney…I need him to be a better father to lo'ak and you know I'm right" you speak. Neytiri is thoughtful for a moment, she knew you were right, and she would support you in whatever decision you make. And even more so at this moment. "Well, I'm going to let you rest. Ronal said he would come later. I'll come later." neytiri wanted to break the news to everyone in the family. A baby was big news for her, and she knew everyone would be happy. Giving you a soft kiss, and another on the palms of her hands. You swear you saw Neytiri jump a little in happiness, her tail wagging from side to side and the smile on her face was beautiful. You lay back on the comfortable bed and closed your eyes. You had to rest, otherwise you were going to die of madness.
"Ok, but you have to cut it like this" jake was with lo'ak. The man had decided to go looking for his son after the argument he had with you. Inviting him to go fishing, obviously this was a strange thing for lo'ak to do. But spending the afternoon with his father was making him very happy. Lo'ak was cleaning the fish as jake told him to, looking carefully at the instructions. "And what do I do with this?" lo'ak points with disgust, at the fish's stomach. "Remove it…that's disgusting" jake mimics lo'ak's wince as they both laughed. It was a very nice moment for both of them, jake had to admit that he had missed a lot of moments with lo'ak. While lo'ak and jake were busy, kiri, neteyam and tuk were sitting somewhere in the corner of the marui talking and playing with each other. When they noticed how their mother came in with a happiness. "I have good news," said neytiri.
"How is mom!!!" lo'ak gets up quickly, running to neytiri. "she's fine…but" neytiri pauses, walking over to jake to sit next to him. "What's wrong, she's supposed to just be sick at her stomach" jake says. The last he heard from you, neteyam had taken you to see ronal. And that you had a lot of stomach pain. "It's not a bad thing…come here everybody, come on!" neytiri makes the signal for everyone in the family to come over. Everyone sits around, neytiri looked so excited. "This is so big for this family… Y/N is expecting a baby" neytiri sounds the news, jake gets so excited he hugs neytiri right away. "No way!!!" shouts kiri hugging tuk and the little girl was already very excited. "Another sully to the family" says neteyam, excited. But apparently the news had not gone down well with everyone, "WHAT?" Lo'ak literally screams, capturing her parents' attention. "Lo'ak what's wrong?" neytiri is now confused, this is supposed to be a big surprise.
"Why is mom going to have a baby? She can't have one!!!" Lo'ak was getting a little upset. This was a jealous reaction, and neytiri and jake could tell. "hey lo'ak I need you to calm down" jake tries to calm him down. But the boy stands up in annoyance, getting out of the marui. "Lo'ak needs to stop having tantrums, he's too old to be having these dramas" kiri says. Neytiri taps her knee, kiri complains. Everyone in the family knows how lo'ak was with you, everything that had to do with you affected lo'ak twice as much. Jake was about to get up and go talk to the boy. But he feels neteyam's hand stop him. "Dad…I'll talk to him" says neteyam. Jake looks quickly at neytiri, who signals him to let his brother go get him. Neteyam gets up from the ground and leaves the marui to look for his brother. It doesn't take him long to find him, he was relatively close. Lo'ak was sitting in the sand, he could tell he was crying.
"Little brother…you're jealous" says neteyam. Listening as lo'ak whined. "What do you want you idiot!!!" lo'ak grudgingly replies to neteyam. But neteyam ignores him, laughing and sitting down next to him. "I know you must be feeling jealous," says neteyam. Lo'ak rolls his eyes in white. He didn't want to be messing around with neteyam, sometimes he could be very annoying. "You know…when you were born I felt a little jealous, but when tuk was born I must admit I couldn't help but feel very jealous. Our moms were with her all the time and didn't pay attention to us. " said neteyam. "Yes, but my mom has always paid attention to me" lo'ak says sounding a bit smug. Neteyam laughs, he had to admit that his little brother looked adorable. "And she's always going to love you, I'm the big brother. And having to share everything…but the love mama has for you is special and no one will ever change it," Neteyam speaks. Lo'ak is silent, neteyam stands up and taps his brother on the shoulder. Stepping away to let him think for a moment.
That same afternoon…
You were already up, and it was getting dark. You had to admit that you were pretty bored. Ronal was taking longer than usual. You wanted to be home, you felt a little better. And now that you knew you were sick and the pregnancy symptoms were making it worse, you felt somewhat reassured. Although the news of your pregnancy was not something you were very happy about. Sure, you were happy to have a baby. You had waited for this opportunity for so long, but it had to happen right now. Just now when the situation with lo'ak was very active.
You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts, that you didn't notice when Ronal entered the marui. The woman can see that you were a bit lost. "The news of the baby surprises you, doesn't it? Because it does to me," says Ronal, putting some things she brought to refill. You look at her a little startled, and became a little alert at the tone of Ronal's voice. You weren't friends, and ronal tolerated you and treated you well because tonowari told her to. "Yes…it's a surprise," you say. Trying not to sound awkward. "It seems kind of unreal to me…that one" Ronal scans you up and down. "Human is pregnant, I have doubts even with your supposed child" ronal speaks, she could be quite direct. She didn't mind hurting other people's feelings. "Excuse me?" you get more comfortable in your bed. "Don't take this the wrong way…but it's weird" ronal chuckles a little. You decide to ignore her, you didn't want to argue because you still felt a little bad.
Ronal prepared more medicine for you to take in the next few days. Supposedly some food had made you sick. After several days you are supposed to be left with only the symptoms of pregnancy. She might be a little mean, but she wouldn't hurt you. You get up carefully, leaving Marui. Ronal all this time had been making uncalled for comments about you and your child. But at no time did you want to answer him, you didn't want to cause trouble. "Hey by the way" Ronal starts talking. You stop, and look back.
"I heard you wanted to go back to the jungle…and you know what" Ronal laughs again to herself. You didn't understand what you had done to this woman, but she seemed to hate you. "I think it would be best for your family. Even for that child…lo'ak. When you weren't here, we barely heard the sully. And as far as I can see all you've done is mess everything up around here," Ronal says, turning to continue working. You sigh, you weren't going to give her the pleasure of her seeing you cry, getting out of that marui as fast as you could. Back to the familiar marui, you couldn't help but get Ronal's words out of your head, maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off without you. And now you had one more problem.
P.s The reason I wrote that the reader was pregnant is that the original request asked for two children. Lo'ak and the baby on the way. Second, the reader is still upset with jake, but I wanted to fix things up a bit. Because I want it to focus more on the relationship between lo'ak and his mom.
Tag: @baybaybear1@hoodiepandaninja16@teyyyteyyy@anika-rose-walker@victoria2054@raviolisblog@jessi-dan@neteyams-wh0re@jimfiqs@bitchykittenconnoisseur@chershire23@holynightnacho@danilezilla@thepotatoislost @esposadomd @ratchetprime211 @juneonhoth
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e-nonsense · 13 days
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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩
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pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader
summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares
warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?
a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more
wc. 1.1k not proofread
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Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.
After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.
“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.
“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.
You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”
“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.
“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.
“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.
“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.
It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.
Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.
It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.
The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.
He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.
The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.
“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.
Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.
The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.
“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.
“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.
“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”
You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”
“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.
“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”
Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.
“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”
You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.
“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.
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© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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