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lily-fics-11 · 3 days

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I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

Maybe check out my Ellie Cosplay here?

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission.

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March.

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades.

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her.

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it.

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you.

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school.

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended.

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth.

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words.

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes.

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.”

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper.

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability.

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.”

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma.

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious.

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time.

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table.

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table.

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around.

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back.

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library.

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back.

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!”

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay.

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion.

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh.

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes.

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious.

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many.

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her.

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop.

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry.

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things.

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind.

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate.

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.”

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

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bearhugsandshrugs · 3 days

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Hey, what is this change in Raphael fanon you’re referring to? I think I noticed the same thing, but I wanted to make sure. Please don’t feel pressured to answer if you’re not comfortable with the question 🫶

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really liked your take on him and feel like nobody writes him like that anymore (the other writers who did also stopped).

Hey! Let me preface this by saying that this is in no way to dunk on the fandom. I think it's pretty natural that as time progresses, certain fanon takes "stick" / gain more traction / become more popular. It's also not to say that my perspective of the character is "good" and another is "bad", it's more that the current dominant fanon perception of Raphael (and Haarlep) doesn't resonate with me.

Over the past months, most part of the Raph!fandom that is visible to me seems to have arrived at the conclusion that Raphael is smitten with the player character, rather than him being a manipulative fiend that uses charm to get what he wants. That leads to characterizations of him where he "loves" a Tav/Durge/OC, where his actions get attributed as driven by that player character (as opposed to them being an important tool to him).

As someone who's written a somewhat softer Raph in my own fic (and I only barely made that work for myself by making him human, and the ending – SPOILERS – very much is intended to contradict any perception of him being selfless/in love/able to love how humans love) I don't think it's true of his character.

Him being able to love is an interpretation that I don't personally agree with. Of course people can HC that! More power to you!!! Have fun with it. It's just a take I don't enjoy because to me, it takes away a lot of the complexity and a core part of his canon personality.

Related to that there's, again, from my pov, an infantilization that comes along with that.

Raphael as incapable. Raphael as a helpless plaything for Haarlep. Raphael as a dork. Raphael as comic relief. Raphael showing up because he "loves" the character instead of manipulating them. And so on. Same as before: It's, to me personally, a reduction of his character, and quite frankly, boring. He is more powerful than this fanon version portrays him. He is more frightening, and ruthless, and evil, as fanon seemingly wants him to be.

For Haarlep it's even more so that he gets reduced to that funny side character. The darker sides of that character often gets left out. Again, the dominant fanon perception of that incubus feels very one-dimensional and underserving of the complexity and outright shrewd brutality Haarlep displays (and probably needed to survive for this long under Raphael's roof).

They're both evil characters. But they can't be in the current discourse. They're getting washed into a softy, funny, cutiepie version. And that's not what I think the characters are.

To some degree this also happens to Gortash btw. But I digress.

Again. Not saying this read on the characters is bad, it's just one I personally don't agree with, and that I don't find interesting.

Now to the part about people enjoying my take on him in my writing. First, thank you so much for saying that! I really appreciate it. And I mean, I do see that Keeping Score and Folie á Deux are still two of my most-read fics to date, with tens of thousands of hits altogether. But the thing is. People don't comment on finished/older fics, not to mention reblog them lmao. I'm pretty sure that Folie has gotten 50-65% of its hits after even the expansion (chapter 6) was written. Did it get any comments since then? Ha.

Keeping Score also got a significant number of reads after completion. But I can count the number of people (!) on one hand who commented since I finished it end of 2023. So. Unless you tell writers you enjoy their work, we won't know. Because I cannot tell who clicks on the fic and leaves again, or who devours it all in one sitting.

Sorry for the tangent. It's just a pity to hear now, all those months later, that there are people out there who liked my depiction of Raph when I was pretty convinced that no one actually cared. Anyway!

I hope this doesn't start any drama, because legit, I don't have beef with anyone. I am happy that character is giving so many people joy. I have my Gorty delusions to keep me entertained. But you asked, so here's a long answer, hoping I gave enough context to make it understandable.

Happy headcanoning and shipping, everyone <3

#bg3 raphael #my writing #anon asks #haarlep

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eff4freddie · 2 days

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2 Sweet 4 Me | Part One

Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 3k Minors DNI

Part Two Part Three

Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?

This is a love story.

Warnings: Drug use, oral sex, M/M, M/F, tiny hint of a miscarriage. Cover image doesn't represent reader. Dieter being angsty and defeated, Dieter beating himself up, Dieter self-effacing and self-sabotaging. Just Dieter.

Dieter had really tried to be good. The problem wasn’t that he got bored easily, or that sometimes it felt like his bones were kind of itchy in an unsettling way. It wasn’t that everyone he knew wanted something from him, wasn’t that they usually got it. It wasn’t that he missed the chemical burn up his nostrils, the glug of the pills caught on the back of his throat. It was all of the above, and a bunch of other stuff his fifth therapist hadn’t yet figured out how to excavate.

He slumped his head back on the couch, his trailer too cramped for someone who won an Oscar, but absolutely the right size for someone successfully snorting it all away. He was in the back row, a long line of trailers all the way down to the highway, such that he had to put on his music to drown out the cars going past, and it was fucking impossible to concentrate on his craft when all he could hear was honking and the drone of the 9-5, of the people coming and going completely unaware that life was supposed to be about creativity and fun and getting your cock sucked by the best boy between scenes.

He had to be careful not to be too loud. Had to hold his cigarette tight between his fingers in case he dropped ash on the head bobbing up and down in his lap. He sighed.

‘I’m not sure this is working for me,’ he said, after a while, his mouth strangely dry, his tongue sticking to the roof his mouth. If you’d been here, you would have told him to drink some water. He tried to swallow down his feelings dry.

The best boy hummed, switching from forcing Dieter’s length down his throat to pumping with his fist while he tongued at Dieter’s balls. That was a slight improvement, Dieter considered. But not enough.

Gently, he took the best boy by the collar, heard the slick of his skin as it eased from the younger man’s mouth. ‘Thanks, though,’ he said, half-hearted.

‘What about if I…?’ the best boy asked, taking two of his fingers and swooshing them upwards into the air.

‘No, no,’ Dieter waved him away. ‘I just need to relax, I think.’

‘I have some edibles in my car, I could go and get them,’ the best boy offered, springing up on youthful knees and sitting, too close, to Dieter on the couch. ‘We could do them together,’ he went on.

Oh, fuck. Dieter could see the look in his eye, had seen it a thousand times. A look like he thought if he swallowed enough of Dieter’s come it’d land him a production assistant gig, a job on a daytime talk show, one of those ones that’s been going for 20 years.

‘Sorry, man,’ he said, standing and tucking himself back into his shorts. The best boy stood with him, hurt crossing his face before a professional veneer slotted over the top. For a moment Dieter stared at him, scared he was going to say something, and not sure what he would say that scared him the most; the offer of more drugs, of more sex, or just to tell him he was due back on set. ‘I gotta pee,’ Dieter said, eventually, scurrying away to the bathroom in the hope that by the time he emerged the younger man would be gone.

He avoided his reflection in the mirror, knew that if he looked, he wouldn’t recognise himself anyway. He could feel the stage makeup settling into his pores, could feel the mascara clumping in the corners of his eyes. Sometimes, when he was drunk enough but not high, when he was jet lagged but not too fuzzy, when he was feeling vulnerable but not unsafe, sometimes then he would look. Study the deepening lines across his forehead, the crow’s feet crinkling his skin all the way to his temples. He’d pull his hairline back, check for any movement, stare into the dark of his eyes and see if the rot was leaking out. He’d wonder why you chose him, husk of a thing that he is, how you stayed for so fucking long.

All of it was just sleight of hand. He’d go out there onto the soundstage, hit his mark and say the words someone else had written, pretend he was somewhere, someone, better. He’d got so good at pretending, at covering up, and making himself disappear that he’d forgotten now how to do the magic trick. It just happened. He won awards for it, the slippage.

On the way back to his rented apartment, because he can’t even commit to a real estate agent let alone to a partner, his driver wound down the window to try and clear the smoke drifting over from where Dieter sat in the back.

‘Sorry, Rudy,’ Dieter muttered, using the butt of one cigarette to light the end of the next. It occurred to him that all he ever did now was apologise. Fuck up. Apologise. Repeat.

That’s what you’d said to him, too, when you’d stood in his kitchen next to your overnight bag filled to the brim and reminded him that ‘sorry is not change’. You were right and you were smart and you were too fucking good for him, had always been. He hadn’t blamed you for leaving. Would have left himself too, if he could.

He wondered what you’re doing, even though it hurt. It’s nearly 11 PM on a Thursday night, so he knows you’re probably taking off your makeup, getting into your sweats to go to bed. He wondered if you’re alone, if that guy from your office, fucking Jonathan, was there with you. For a second, he let himself imagine you’re waiting for him at home, the bedside light still on and a book lying discarded next to you on the blankets as you snooze. He approaches, quiet over the carpet, pulls his shirt off, pushes his pants down over his hips. You smile, but don’t so much wake, as he slides in behind you, feels the warmth of your soft skin on his. ‘Hey baby,’ you say, quiet and half-asleep, and he buries his face in your hair. In the morning he’ll have his filthy way with you but right now he just wants you close, in his arms and under his blankets, inside his four walls. Wants you tucked up safe against him, wants to feel your love.

He looked down at his hands, could still feel the warmth of your skin on them, as if for a moment he wasn’t imagining but conjuring. He believed for a moment that it was possible. Wondered if the yellow stains on his fingertips were from the nicotine or just the orange glow of the streetlights.

His house was quiet when he gets in, because of course it was. He wondered if he should call his weed guy, call his E guy. If he just wanted a whiskey, maybe a little Valium first, maybe just a lobotomy. The silence was making him antsy again, sling-shotting from maudlin to jittery as the silence crept into his bones. He could paint but he couldn’t be fucked. He has a 6 AM call time in the morning. Rudy will be knocking on his door at 5.

He realised he’s too amped up to sleep, but that he needed to if he was going to be in any sort of functional state tomorrow. He really didn’t want to fuck up this job, this little indie shooting on the streets of LA on actual film like it’s the fucking 90s. This was maybe his step back into legitimacy, maybe a chance to show he’s still worth a shot. You were so proud of him when he got it, all those months ago, when even his agent seemed a little misty-eyed at the offer. This was important.

Just Ambien, then.

In his bed, Dieter waited for sleep to take him. He still had the picture of you and him on his nightstand, the one where you’re looking up at him as he holds you by the middle, your smile bright and shining as he stares, warmly, into your eyes. You’d been at some party, and even though he couldn’t remember where exactly you both were, Dieter remembered that moment, the snap taken by a friend who had no idea of its significance. It was the moment he knew he loved you, and felt it without fear. It hurt now, hurt a little then, and he left it there for every time he turns his lamp off. Lets it remind him that there was a golden period of some months where you existed in his life and he was yet to fuck it up.

Sometime around 2 AM he’s woken by his phone, his body moving before his brain registered what was going on. He doesn’t remember setting an alarm, barely remembered falling asleep. He tried to shift some of the fog to the side so he could think.

‘-lo?’ he muttered, his throat dry.

‘Dee?’ you asked, and he could hear in your voice that you were flustered, worried. He sat bolt upright in the bed, pushed over the picture of you as he reached for the lamp.

‘Baby?’ he asked, as he felt his pulse race and the room swim in front of his eyes.

‘Are you OK?’ you asked, and he could hear how tight your voice was.

‘Mm’sleepin’ he said, surprised by how hard it was to get his mouth to work properly. ‘You OK?’

‘You texted me,’ you said, and he felt his stomach drop. Oh, fuck. Oh fuckedy fuck fuck.

‘I did?’ he asked, as he searched his brain for some scrap of memory. All he could now remember was why he never fucking takes Ambien anymore.

‘Yeah, you said you needed me.’

He slammed his hand to his forehead, hoped for a second that he was actually just straight up hallucinating.

You were still talking, and he tried hard to focus on what you were telling him. ‘You said you’d made a mistake, that I was…’ you paused, and he realised you’d pulled the phone away from your face to read his own messages back to him. ‘Too sweet for you, that you broke us, that you are not so much a bull in a China shop as Mengele hanging out in an orphanage.’ He cringed, no matter how poetic it was. And accurate.

‘Then I think you tried to send me a picture-’

‘Oh God, please tell me not of my-’

‘It’s too dark to see, I think its your ceiling. And you’re saying something about falling stars, and comets.’

Despite his mortification, he could hear a tiny bit of mirth creeping into your voice, and he felt it tinkle warm and delicate at the base of his spine. If he waited long enough, sent you enough fucked up texts, maybe he’d even get to hear your laugh.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry,’ he started, but stopped when you shushed him.

‘Just tell me what you’ve taken so I know if I should call 911.’

‘Just Ambien, I promise, baby,’ he said, and he hated the little surge of something proud and excited that you cared enough to maybe call help for him. Hated that he had been the one to exploit that in you, for the entirety of your relationship, wondered if he’d started to dangle himself off the cliff just to see if you’d still come and save him. Fuck, there was so much to be sorry for. He’d lost track a long time ago.

‘Dee,’ you said, and then you trailed off, and he could hear that you were about to kindly, gently, admonish him.

‘Didn’t even know I was doing it,’ he explained, and he listened to your sad little sigh. He shut his eyes against it, pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Not that I didn’t want to…I mean, not that I wouldn’t have if I…not just because of the meds, I guess, I mean.’

In the silence, Dieter checked his phone to see the damage for himself. There were a couple of messages that had failed to send, gibberish mostly, and he deleted them before his phone attempted to deliver on his garbled words. There was, indeed, a picture of his ceiling. He wondered if his medicated mind had wanted to show you what it would look like if you were with him.

He read, quickly.

Down in mmy sheeps with me.

Brokei t. Us.

2 sweet 4 me

not so much a bull in a China shop as Mengele hanging out in an orphanage

He swallowed, assumed he must have got Siri to dictate that last one.

‘What did you mean?’ you asked him, and he heard the sheets rustle round you as you settled yourself back down in bed. He felt his heartrate pick up, had assumed you would hang up on him having been satisfied he was still alive. It had been so long since you’d talked properly. Since after you left, but also a little bit since before.

‘Well, he did a lot of experiments on kids, twins mostly,’ Dieter began, and you stopped him.

‘No, Jesus, no. Fuck, Dee.’ You collected yourself. ‘That I’m too sweet for you. You really think that?’

He thought about you staying up all hours of the night to chat to him on Facetime when he was on location, sleepless and anxious over some tiny bit part, in another country. Thought about you pulling the router out of the wall and putting his phone in the safe when the first reviews for Cliff Beasts 7 were looking shaky. When you cried, quiet in the bathroom when you thought he couldn’t hear, over the comments left on his Instagram the first time you were papped together.

‘My life,’ he started, rolling out a sentence both his manager and agent had said to him in the aftermath of the breakup, ‘is not a good fit for civilians.’

He heard you take in a sharp breath.

‘That’s not it though, is it?’ you asked him, and his eyes were getting heavy, the Ambien still in his bloodstream, the day, week, month, weighing heavy on his shoulders. ‘You put me on a pedestal, Dee. I was never too anything for you. I just don’t think you could bare it when I was real.’

He thought about that time he’d screamed at you, upended your suitcase onto the floor, while you were packing for a work trip, the hypocrisy of it not lost on him even then. That time when he’d dragged you out to an industry party, his nerves jangling, not able to remember the last time he’d done it sober, only to lose you in the crowd within fifteen minutes of arriving, everyone wanting to talk to him, to rub up on him, his hand slipping from yours in the throng of it, his mind tuning in to the attention of strangers, ignoring or rejecting or minimising that he had all the love he could want in you.

That time when you’d been sick, bleeding on the floor of the bathroom, calling him to come take you to the hospital, and he’d sent his assistant because he was about to shoot a big scene.

He shut his eyes, the shame of it licking at his cheeks. You didn’t come home after that. You returned to his place, stayed in his bed for a few weeks, ate the food in his fridge and haunted his living room, but you didn’t ever actually come home.

‘I miss you,’ he said, because it was all he could say, and because it was true.

‘Dee, don’t,’ you whispered, and he closed his eyes to revel in the sound of it, to ignore what you were saying to him and to just imagine for a second you were saying it with your body pressed to his.

‘Nothing feels real without you,’ he said, and he meant it, meant how he spent all day in clothes that weren’t his, saying words that he didn’t mean, to people he barely knew. That each morning they had to spackle over the hate and the want and the wash out, try to build him back up into a human being. He was so fucking cold without you, in the middle of an LA heatwave.

‘I wonder if you’ll remember this in the morning,’ you said, and it stung him. He felt the hot prickle of tears at the back of his eyes, felt the strain in his jaw as his mouth turned down.

‘I want to remember it all,’ he said, and he heard you huff out a quiet little laugh, not at all what he had been hoping for. ‘Do you miss me?’ he asked, dropping his hand to his chest to try and still his racing, terrified heart.

‘Go to sleep, Dee,’ you said, before the line went dead. He pulled his phone back to check that you were gone.

It was 2:30 in the morning. Rudy would be there within hours.

Taglist (want to be on it? Drop me a message): @dieterbravobrainrotclub

@harriedandharassed

#dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

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hotmessmaxpress · 23 hours

Note

i need Vale‘s pov of picking up Marc from Pesaro, because Marc wasn’t the only one worried, vale definitely was down bad just as much. The man of his dreams, who he almost lost before, is coming over to visit him. To meet him the first time as the person he really is. What if he only liked Vale for his money? Or if it just was some kind of hero worship? Valentino may have parked horribly, but that man was nervous, give him a break

Thank you for waiting so patiently, anon.

Here's another Vale's POV interlude, this time of Vale being Down Bad at the train station.

You should come.

To Tavullia. Come ride with me.

When Vale invited Marc to Tavullia to come ride with him, he hadn’t really been thinking. He knew he wanted to see Marc, so he invited him without thought of the consequences or how he would explain things to his family, friends, and staff. He’s too excited to take back the invitation, though, so as soon as Marc agrees Vale throws himself into planning.

He carves out a long weekend that he’s sure he can block off, and he starts firing off messages to all the normal visitors to the ranch and his home that he will be busy those days. Uccio is noticeably suspicious, so Valentino gives up and explains that Marc is visiting.

Uccio isn’t pleased, but they’ve known each other long enough at this point that Uccio knows when he’s lost a battle and he doesn’t push back too much. Vale makes him promise not to show up, and threatens that the other man may see something he doesn’t want to if he shows up. Even with the threat Vale isn’t convinced Uccio won’t try something, but he’s at least confident that if he does turn up it won’t be a huge argument. Vale can survive a little awkwardness if it means having Marc by his side, finally.

They negotiate travel plans and Vale pays for everything. He was tempted to completely throw out Marc’s itinerary and send a private jet for him, but he forces himself to play it cool at least a little bit. There’s still part of him, lurking in the back of his mind, that thinks Marc could be using him. He hopes that when he meets Marc in person the fear and anxiety will dissipate.

Allowing Marc to fly commercial doesn’t stop Vale from obsessively checking the timing of Marc’s flight, though. He stays attached to his phone throughout Marc’s travel day, ears open and listening for the notification that Marc has landed.

As soon as Marc lands, Valentino is in his car and off to the train station. He knows he’ll have to wait, and that he’s going to arrive far too early, but he can’t help it. He’s far too restless and excited to continue sitting around.

He’s in the car when the message pops up that Marc is on the train, and he forces himself to slow down. Driving faster won’t make Marc’s train move faster.

It is late enough at night that Vale has no qualms about parking right up front. He pulls haphazardly into an empty taxi space, and tries not to count the minutes until Marc’s train will pull into the station. He tries to talk himself down from being nervous, but now that he’s seated in his car with only music for company, a thousand thoughts run through his brain. This may be the moment that he finds out that Marc really does only want him for his money. Where will he be then? He knows Uccio won’t say “I told you so,” because he won’t have to. Vale will hate himself if things go wrong with Marc.

He desperately wants the younger man to be genuine. He wants his feelings for Marc to be reciprocated and warranted. He wants the chemistry that they have online to be true in real life.

He also can’t wait to touch Marc. A bitter part of him whispers that if Marc is using him for his money, at least he’ll get to have the weekend with him.

The minutes tick down as Vale nervously spirals, turning his music up to try and drown out the thoughts of insecurity.

When Marc walks out the station doors, Vale can’t help but climb out of the car to greet him. He’s not exactly keeping it cool, but Marc is simply too beautiful. Vale is drawn to him like a moth to flame and he wraps Marc in his arms.

Marc is small. He’s tiny in Vale’s arms, but Vale can feel the solid muscle beneath the warm hoodie he traveled in. His mouth waters as he pictures the hard muscle and tanned skin he knows is underneath the sweatshirt.

He forces himself to let go of Marc, who is positively beaming at him. It’s overwhelming, seeing that enthusiasm and joy in person. It’s even more overwhelming to know it’s directed at him. All at once Vale’s thoughts that Marc might be using him disappear. There’s no way the joy in his smile could be hiding an ulterior motive. There's no way any person, no matter how talented at acting, could fake such genuine happiness. It nearly brings Vale to his knees.

When they climb in the car, Marc asks him why he wasn’t afraid of people photographing them. Vale, after all, had stood publicly in front of a train station and held Marc in his arms.

Vale is stunned into silence for a second. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should probably try and keep some semblance of privacy when picking Marc up. He tries to shrug and play it cool.

“It’s late at night. People will leave us alone.”

He hopes that is true and he hopes Marc buys his explanation.

The tension in the air is thick, and Vale considers pulling off the road to drag Marc into his lap and ravish him. Every time he glances at Marc, beautiful, joyful Marc, it’s all he can think about. By the time he pulls the car through the gate and up toward the house nearly half an hour later, he thanks every god in existence that he managed to get them home without crashing.

Vale promises Marc a tour and some riding in the morning, before carrying Marc’s bag into the house.

They barely make it inside the house before they’re on each other. Vale drops Marc’s things unceremoniously somewhere near the door, and then his arms are full of the small Spanish man. Marc is positively sinful, moaning into Vale’s mouth as he slides his hands underneath Marc’s shirt.

Marc is so satisfying to hold, and Vale promises himself he’ll take the entire weekend to fully map Marc’s body. He has a sickening moment of hoping Marc will let him have this forever; that Marc won’t want to leave him once he is bored of having sex with his hero.

Vale guides an enthusiastic Marc toward his bedroom, and his heart nearly stops when Marc freezes in the doorway. For a moment, Vale thinks Marc has gotten cold feet and is going to turn around and insist he be driven back to the train station.

“You really do have a bike in here,” Marc says, awed. “You won a championship on this.”

The wide-eyed look on Marc’s face goes straight to Vale’s cock.

“Sit on it,” he says, hungry at the thought of seeing the younger man on his bike. He has fantasized about this hundreds of times, and as Marc settles onto the seat Vale thinks he might burst into flames at the sight.

They’re both hard, and Marc climbs back off the bike as Vale grabs the smaller man and manhandles him onto the bed.

He’s wanted this for so long, and as he strips both of them of their clothes and gets his hands and mouth on Marc, he knows without a doubt that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep this forever.

#onlyfans au #rosquez #valentino rossi #vr46 #mm93

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howlingday · 17 hours

Text

Switchin' Ain't Easy

Mercury: And that'll do it for the stream today, ladies. Thank you so much for tuning in, and for all the donations, too, of course. And a big, ol' sexy thank you to all my tier three subs. You lovelies make all of this possible. I wouldn't be able to make half the amount of lien I do a week without y'all! See you all tomorrow, and it can't come soon enough~. Good-bye!

Mercury: (Click! Stretches) Mmgh!

Adrian: (Walks in) Hi, Mr. Mercury! How are you?

Mercury: Hey, kiddo! I'm doin' alright. Just finished up a Switch Stream. How are you?

Adrian: Okay, I guess. I was bored and I wanted to see what everyone else was up to.

Mercury: Yeah? And let me guess; you came to see the most awesome dude with bionic legs first because you knew he'd fix your boredom, right?

Adrian: No, you were actually my last choice 'cause everyone else was busy.

Mercury: Ghk!

Adrian: Not in a bad way! I'm just not allowed to hang out with you because then my uncle would get mad at me because he doens't like when I'm around you. When I ask him why, he says he'll tell me when I'm older. Then he walks away calling you something under his breath. He says you're a sloo... A slot... No... Oh! He calls you a "slu-"!

Mercury: HEY! Haha, maybe don't say it so loud! Especially if you're gonna go back to your uncle after seeing me.

Adrian: Huh?

Mercury: Nothing, nothing!

Adrian: Okay! Ooh, that's a really neat computer! Were you playing a video game~?!

Mercury: Yup! Just like I said, I just finished a Switch Stream. Helps pay the bills.

Adrian: But doesn't the government pay you a fair and just wage for all of your hard work protecting the world?

Mercury: ...Kid-

Adrian: I know, I know. I just heard what I said, too. So what does this "switch streaming" do?

Mercury: Well, kid, to make it easy to understand, take all the things that make a person a decent human being, like morals, dignity, respect, decency and everything else that your mommies teach you, then throw all of that in the garbage, sit down in front of a camera or mic, and BAM! You're Switch Streaming, baby~!

Adrian: I don't understand...

Mercury: Well, let me explain it like this then. A Switch Streamer makes a recording of themselves watching or playing or reacting to something or even just talking and then live streams it out for all of their fans and followers to watch and enjoy!

Adrian: Is that really the best way to make lien? It doesn't sound like it makes a lot.

Mercury: Well, the rates vary from the site itself, and Switch makes most of what I've got off of ad revenue, but where the lien REALLY rolls in is from the donations!

Adrian: Donations? Like, people give you lien?

Mercury: Bingo, kiddo! Hit the nail right on the head!

Adrian: But why would they donate to you? Do you make really funny or exciting content, Mr. Mercury?

Mercury: Oh, hell no! It's barely considered content!

Adrian: Huh? Then why-

Mercury: Listen, Adrian, some of us are born with what some people call "devilishly good looks". In other words, I look so good that a lot of people are willing to listen to me and to what I have to say. Because being sexy or attractive where it really matters can REALLY get people reaching for their wallets. Couple ab shots here and a shirtless messy water drink there and all them thots practically drown me in lien~!

Adrian: ...Mr. Mercury, are you a whore?

Mercury: WHAT?! Wh-Where did that come from?!

Adrian: Uncle Jaune and Mommy Saph talked about one of my aunties using her body to get something she wants makes her a whore. And they said it was a bad thing to be.

Mercury: That's... rude. But not untrue, I guess.

Adrian: So is being a Switch Streamer a bad thing?

Mercury: Let me answer your question with my own question. Do you know how much lien I make from a single three-hour stream?

Adrian: I don't know what that has to do with anything. Uncle Jaune says that if you do something bad, nothing will excuse-

Mercury: Over five thousand lien~.

Adrian: Mr. Mercury, can I be a Switch Streamer when I grow up~?

Mercury: You sure can, bud! You can do anything you put your mind to!

Adrian: Yay~! I can't wait to throw away my morals, ethics, and standards to make a large sum of lien from people I've never met~!

Mercury: (Sniffles) It's so fulfilling being a role model for young boys. Glad I was able to show you the joys of being a Switch Streamer, ki-

Jaune: WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST HEAR?!

Mercury: ACK! J-Jaune~!

Adrian: Uncle Jaune~!

Jaune: I came to pick my nephew up when I heard he was with YOU of all people! Now tell me, what exactly did I just hear you teaching my nephew?!

Mercury: Nothing, Jaune, I swear! We were just-

Adrian: It's okay, Uncle Jaune! Mr. Mercury was just teaching me how I can make lien by sacrificing my morals and having no respect for your body~!

Jaune: ...WHAT?!

Mercury: H-Hang on! I know that sounds bad, but-

Adrian: Uh-huh, and he told me how he uses his body to get people to give him a lot of lien! I learned so much from him~!

Mercury: KID! PLEASE STOP!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: (Grips metal bat) I'M TAKING YOUR LEGS AND YOUR LIFE, BLACK!

Mercury: ACK! S-Since when have you had a metal bat?!

Jaune: Since the writer gave it to me!

Mercury: What?!

Jaune: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Mercury: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Adrian: (Watching Jaune beat up Mercury) Huh... Guess you could say Uncle Jaune is really beating Mr. Mercury... BLACK and blue~!

Mercury: OH, BROTHERS, IT HURTS!

#rwby #emerald emuto #mercury black #jaune arc #adrian cotta arc

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materassassino · 3 days

Note

O or V for Joe and/or Nicky

Took me a while to write this, it required research into something I know fundamentally nothing about, but it's cursory research, so if anyone sees any mistakes point them out. Or don't, exercise discretion.

There are many more things I could write about for this, but it was getting far too long.

Minific prompts!

---

O - the stars or space

“Have you seen this?”

Nicolò careens in, breathless, and almost slams a book on the table. His heart is pounding, the wonder of it all, he knows, is writ large on his face. Yusuf stares at him, bewildered for a moment, before he gets the book thrust in his face.

De revolutionibus orbium coelestium.

He blinks at it. “Astronomy?” he asks, tentatively.

“It changes everything,” Nicolò says, rifling through it. “Look, see here—” he taps an image of many concentric circles, “—look at the centre.”

Yusuf does as he is told, and whistles. “The Sun, hm?”

Nicolò nods, picking up the book again. “This is incredible. It makes so much sense.” He sits heavily in the chair, flicking through to the tables. “We are tethered to the Sun, all of us. It is a great dance, and we are but one of the dancers.”

Yusuf hums, and when Nicolò looks up at him, he has a besotted look on his face.

“When you think of the sciences, you become a poet,” he says, and Nicolò turns pink. He closes his book and sets it on the table, a hand upon it, but his eyes do not leave Yusuf’s.

“There are wonders both down here and up there, my love,” he says. “And we might live long enough to see them learnt.”

“Look, see there!”

Nicolò takes the telescope from Galileo’s hands with unhidden reverence, swallowing. With this, he will see further than most other people on Earth ever have, beyond the edges of their own sky into the very firmament they once thought so fixed. All those men who wrote those treatises he devoured five hundred years ago – Aratus of Soli, Aryabhata, Ptolemy, Albumasar, Al Bitruji, a hundred others – would have given their own weight in gold to see what he will see now. He trembles slightly as he raises it to his eye.

The night is balmy, thick with the heat of the Tuscan summer, and the sky is a brilliantly clear mass of studded stars. He has seen those a thousand times before, charted them, he knows the names of the constellations in five languages. The Moon is a crisp sliver, a cat’s claw, and beyond that… Jupiter.

Brighter than he’s ever seen it, and scattered around it, four dots. His breath hitches.

“Moons,” he says, and Galileo rubs his hands together.

“Exactly, my lad!”

Nicolò lowers the telescope, gazing up with his naked eyes. Jupiter shrinks, and its pinprick companions vanish into nothing, merging with the rest of the many, many stars above them. It is a strange contrast, he thinks, how much smaller the vastness looks when viewed through Galileo’s device, and how much smaller he himself feels when the great dome of the night sky is above them, clear from horizon to horizon.

“Wondrous,” he murmurs. Galileo tugs on his beard, clearly pleased with himself, but the compliment was not for him, and not even for his device.

No matter how close the sky might seem, it is still so very far away.

Andy had not been pleased when he’d asked.

“You want to interrupt our mission to watch some TV?!” she snaps. Nicky’s heart was thudding.

“Please, Andy,” he begs. “I have to see this. I have to.”

“We’re in the middle of the fucking jungle!” she hisses, gesturing around them. Nicky can see that, it’s where they’ve been for months and months now, border-hopping, skulking, getting themselves burnt and torn to shreds and blown to smithereens over and over and over, every life saved a hard-won blessing. But this…

“Please. Anywhere with a television, I don’t care.”

She turns away from him as if disgusted with him, and that makes his heart constrict. He hates to disappoint her like this.

“He never requests anything, Andy,” Joe says, his voice far more vicious than usual. This meatgrinder of a war has been taking its toll on him, and when Joe becomes bitter, it is a sign things are going very, very badly. “You can at least give him this!”

“I agree,” Booker says, and both Nicky and Joe look at him in surprise. “I want out of this shithole for a moment too, honestly.”

Andy runs a hand down her face. The bags beneath her eyes are deep, and her eyes have a dead-fish look to them. It’s a look that’s mirrored on all of them, and they have seen so much war already, centuries, millennia of it.

“Fine,” she mutters. “We might even get to Hanoi in time.”

Nicky is rarely effusive with anyone but Joe, but he throws his arms around her, holding her desperately tight.

“Thank you! Thank you!” He is grateful in every language he knows, and a miraculous sound occurs to that: she laughs. He can’t remember the last time she laughed. Thin, reedy, a vaporous, ephemeral thing, but it’s still a laugh.

They don’t make it to Hanoi, unfortunately – that was always a fool’s gambit anyway – but they stumble into Vinh Vien. It is mostly ruins, a sight that twists itself like a knife in Nicky’s gut, but it seems some mad luck is with them: they do find a television that is intact, and works, and a generator Andy siphons some of their precious petrol into. Some curious children wander over, bewildered by the sight of these foreigners fiddling with a television, and Booker gestures them over, offering them Russian sweets which they take with bright grins and giggles.

They crowd around it, the four of them on upturned crates and the children clustered in front, and are joined by some adults, desperate for a distraction. They amass quite the audience.

Nicky explains, in his Vietnamese scattered with quaint, ancient words he hasn’t quite gotten rid of yet, what is happening.

“The Moon?” an old man asks, dubious.

“The Moon,” Nicky replies, a lump in his throat.

He watches, transfixed, as the module touches down. The view is monotonous, a flat plain of grey rock to a black horizon, but he almost cannot breathe: this is as far as humanity has ever gone. He watches the man in the bulky suit descend the ladder and touch the surface, and it doesn’t matter that this man is American, just as it did not matter that Yuri Gagarin was Soviet. What do these petty Earthly feuds matter so far away? There is only wonder and mystery, and the breathless revelation of knowledge.

(Yes, he knows well this is a pissing contest between children, but does not care, in this moment.)

The children around them break into shrill cheers. He gasps softly. “One small step for a man” indeed.

Joe, beside him, threads their fingers together, and Nicky’s squeezes them because he cannot tear his gaze away, even to look at the love of his life. Booker whistles, leans over to Andy.

“Did you ever dream we’d do this, six thousand years ago?” he asks. Andy is quiet for a long moment.

“Everything was so much smaller then,” she says, her voice cracking. “And yet so much bigger.”

That is precisely how Nicky feels, though he couldn’t possibly find the words right now. They are sitting in the ruins of a city, years into a seemingly never-ending war which does nothing but tear people to pieces with no objective or remorse, and yet… and yet Nicky feels a kernel of hope within him.

“Do you think,” he murmurs, leaning his head closer to Joe’s, “that we will ever go beyond?”

“Who knows, my love… We have already gone further than we ever dreamt. How much further can space be?”

Nicky chuckles, and squeezes Joe’s hand once more.

#the old guard #nicolo di genova #kaysanova #joenicky #yusuf al kaysani #andromache the scythian #sebastien le livre #pixie writes #minific prompts #sorry i do like space but it's not my wheelhouse #always jarring to remember the first moon landing was during the vietnam war

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she-walked-away · 2 days

Text

Tag Game Tuesday Monday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

It took me nearly a week to get to it, but thanks Anne @thisbuildinghasfeelings for tagging me!!!

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

Funnily enough, I was watching the Super Bowl in 2020 and was folding laundry when they showed a promo from Lone Star and it was the part where they were talking to the old lady and I heard "Sure ma'am but just so you know I'm a homosexual" and I looked up because that was VERY random for a commercial to say and I the rest of the scene aired and I thought it was one of the best things I've ever seen lmao.

I actually did not start watching the show until 1x08 when TK got shot and I was HOOKED. I remember having to miss the season 1 finale to go to the grocery and checking my twitter account to see if Tarlos got together in the end ajkdhafdas

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3!

I'll never forget the EXPERIENCE that Push was. I was on a whole rollercoaster of emotions and I remember watching the TK waking up and Grace giving birth montage live and when it went off, my husband sitting behind me and very quietly going "whoa." We were both SHOOK. And then the proposal happened in 3x18 and I slunk off my couch because I was dying happily.

I think my rank is 3, 4 bc of the wedding and SOULMATES!!!, 2, and then 1. I really did like season 2 but you can tell Tim kind of bum rushed the ending dalkhdf

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

TK and Carlos will always be number one and I cannot pick a favorite between them. They're both so complex and interesting.

I think my second favorite has got to be Tommy. She always just *fit* in the show better than Michelle and I think she's hilarious and smart and her friendship with Grace and Judd are my favorites. Plus, I love how she and Owen play off each other.

Top five episodes. Go!

Push - nothing will ever top this I'm afraid

Bad Call

Saving Grace

Red vs Blue- LET THEM HAVE FUNNY QUIRKY EPISODES LIKE THIS BUT MORE CARLOS

In Sickness and Health

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

After season 4- I kind of NEED a Carlos one. I always want one and I think we learned a lot about him last season, but 4x18 opened a lot more questions about his childhood for me. Especially since he genuinely doesn't seem to remember a lot of the good times with his dad and it makes me curious if there is some underlying reason why other than just distance as he grew up.

But also NANCY. What is her backstory?? Her dad told her to start saving when she was little and she has thousands of dollars that she can lend out?? I want to know if there is more to it! And how did she get her start? Was she with the original 126 paramedic squad?

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

Obviously Gabriel's murder being solved and it would be great if Tarlos did it TOGETHER. And if one of them is in dangerous peril at the same time in front of the other- would not complain. I'm all for a "being threated and stalked" kind of storyline- I was thinking of along the lines of The Watcher by @ladytessa74 I want to be scared!! And to watch them be scared and IN LOVE AND A TEAM

I saw this earlier, but an episode from like B-shifts POV. You know that Owen and the firefam respond to the most INSANE calls, so I want to see what B shift and Captain Harper's POV is towards A shift. I think it would be hilarious.

Also- give me some silliness within the Catan Crew. Like maybe someone gets a little TOO into a game and then we have an episode of them all pranking each other or a little funny divide- similar to 4x16, but without them actually fighting.

What do you think is going on in this still?

It's Ghost face from Scream asking Carlos what his favorite scary movies are

I think it's either about Gabriel's murder or them finding out that Robert is dead. Rob Lowe said we'd see part of that day so I wonder if we will see the aftermath since I don't think Robert necessarily died within a week after the wedding.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I think it could DEF be some *spicy* shower sex. If TK get's injured in 504, Carlos should help make him feel all nice and healed in the SHOWER

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

I think somewhere in Texas like Galveston. It's not too far away, but I think it's far enough to where TK and Carlos would feel okay leaving both their parents for a short trip. I headcanon that they spent A LOT of money on a quick 8 week wedding *cries in timeline* and so they'd have to save up for a bigger and longer honeymoon.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

I HAVE SO MANY SO I AM SO SORRY IF I FORGET TO MENTION. It's hard to me to count my favorite stories beacuse I think this fandom has so many. I usually put them on my kindle when I'm traveling so I can reread on a long road trip and read in between the Pluto TV commercials during my long treadmill runs.

I just found my password for Ao3 that i created in 2015 (i was a fanfiction.net OG and live journal girly lol really dating myself) so I am currently making my way through reviewing @welcometololaland's ALTA and I have so many other ones to review as well! @strandnreyes, @reyesstrand, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @ladytessa74, @rmd-writes , @goodways, @heartstringsduet , @liminalmemories21 , @lemonlyman-dotcom and literally so many more. I love going back and rereading fics on my work breaks now I'm back from leave and now that I have my password back, I plan on continuing that!!

I love gifsets by @guardian-angle22, @lutavero, @reasonandfaithinharmony, and more!

Also Anne's @thisbuildinghasfeelings cross-stitch!! Literally SO FREAKING COOL.

If I forgot you, I am so sorry. But if you write or make art or anything else in this fandom- just know that I am obsessed with everything you do :) I've just been silently stalking this fandom since like 2020

#tarlos #911 lone star

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lovely-peace · 22 hours

Text

Somebody that i used to know

Summary: You were cursed. By a goddess of the loveliest thing of all. And cruelty. You just couldn't stop loving him. Even now. When he is just somebody you used to know.

Pairing: Luke castellan x Apollo child! Reader

Warnings: Angst no comfort, guilt, mentioned poison, mentioned death, contains spoilers for the series, English is not my first language(tell me if there is more)

I worked on this for like a month and I am still not very proud. But if you like this tell me, I am working on the second part (this is unfinished) but it already has 7,1k words.

'Sing muse', he says, 'sing for me'. His sadness is unfounded. He has never felt sorry for anyone, how could he? He only thinks of himself. Just like all the gods.

'Why this time? The muse kalliope asks him.

His eyes darken.

'It's none of your business,' he says. Of course it's not. He just wants her to sing. 'What about?' She asks him again.

He lowers his eyes. 'About a father, he says, who lost his daughter. To the greatest evil of all.

About the father, of course, not about the daughter. The muse suppresses a sigh. 'Lost to what?

'To somebody damned.' His gaze sweeps the hyacinths. 'To love.'

--------------------------------------------------

My final arrow remains untouched in my grasp, a stark contrast to the crimson stains that mar the others. The weight of it feels heavy, a burden I am not sure I can bear any longer.

"So?"

The mocking tone of the divine voice pierces through me, emanating from the woman before me. Her beauty is a facade, masking the darkness that resides within her very being.

I yearn to use the arrow, to pierce through the emptiness where her heart should reside. Or just use him on myself. To let my own heart bleed out until there is nothing left.

"It's all over now," she declares with a smile that sends shivers down my spine. I never shared the hatred of you. But I understood it. And now I think I could even share it.

"What will you do next?" My voice is hoarse, a mere whisper of its former self, tainted by her presence.

"Do not fret," she chuckles, her eyes filled with a haughty arrogance only a deity could possess.

"I will leave you alone with your suffering. Don't blame me. Curse your father cause he ever had you. Blame him for all your sorrow, that he never tried to take from you. I act only to protect my own honor."

I clench the arrow tightly, prepared to end it all. To descend into the darkness with you. Yet, I cannot. I still have siblings to care for, a family that still needs me.

If I give up now, all of this will be lost. I cannot let her win, cannot let her render your sacrifice meaningless.

"Who is he to you now, after all the pain he has caused?" Her smirk is a cruel reminder of the countless others she has broken.

And she waits. Waits for me to say the words she had heard thousands of times before.

Now and then I think of when we were together

I remember how I got to know you. I was sitting with Chiron when the message arrived. A very special girl is out there fighting. A girl from the big three. A girl who wasn't allowed to exist.

"Chiron, chiron!!!" screamed a satyr rushing into the main house and gasping. His hair disheveled and out of breath, he stood there. "The border, the girl is fighting - Zeus!"

Chiron stood up and put our cards away. Unlucky. For the first time I was winning. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"Monsters are at the border! A whole wave of them! A girl is fighting down there. Probably one of the older three." Chiron turned pale.

"Go back to your cabin right now. Now!" he ordered me and galloped off. I should have obeyed, but I was curious and wanted to help. So I ran after him.

Don't take it personally, but when we first met, I only had eyes for the girl down the hill.

The monster wave that she was somehow holding up alone.

Her wild eyes and the way she looked back. Chiron wanted to help her but it was already too late. The monster took a swing and the life in her eyes wanted to escape.

The whole sky lit up and lightning flashed downwards. My first thought was that Zeus would save her.

Her father will safe her surely?

How naive. The great godfather is probably thinking how noble he was.

I, on the other hand, remember exactly how her eyes and legs froze. How her arms twitched and went up. How slowly her shoes became roots. How her legs turned into wood. How this transformation slowly moved upwards. How she screamed. But she didn't look back at us. No, she looked up and screamed.

That screams were terrifying. Death screams.

That's when it became clear to me. How our parents played with us.

That they called something like that mercy.

It must have been much worse for you. The way Annabeth cried and thrashed around while you had to watch her suffer. I often wondered if Thalia was still conscious. Whether she was still suffering.

Well, until she woke up again. Because of you.

I stared at this girl while her screams tore the air.

"Chiron, what's happening? Why isn't he helping her?" I burst into tears and held on to the centaur's front legs. "Why is he hurting her?"

"THALIA!!!" screamed the boy holding the little blonde girl. She was also screaming and trying to free herself from his grip. He covered her ears, but she only cried worse.

"You're supposed to protect us! Help her already!" The boy shouted at Chiron while he shook his head regretfully. Thalia looked up into the sky and cried out one last time. The silence that followed was almost worse.

"It's too late, my boy. This is the best way her father could have helped her." Slowly, Chiron walked towards the two of them.

"Are you kidding me?" the boy's eyes flashed as the girl in his arms tried to wriggle out of his grip, weaker and weaker. "That should have helped her? He could have just smashed the monsters with lightning if he's so all-powerful!"

Chiron's eyes were so full of compassion that it sent a cold shiver down my spine. I wonder how many times he had heard those words.

"I'm sorry." Chiron went to his knees with his front hooves and looked at the two of them with a gentle gaze. "The best thing we can do is-"

"Thalia! Thalia!" the blonde girl screamed and her tears ran. "Thalia!"

"Annabeth..." the boy let go of the little girl, whose name was apparently Annabeth. Without any strength, she sank to the ground in front of the centaur. "Turn her back! Please..." she whimpered.

Chiron's eyes became incredibly soft. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he finally said. "And even if I could, she would only die. Like this she's still with us. We should honor her, not mourn her."

Annabeth cried harder and ran back to the boy. And even though I didn't know the girl, I was angry at Zeus for turning his daughter into a tree. He could have helped her. Why didn't he do it?

If he had, this girl, who was far too young, would no longer be crying.

I still remember exactly how I was supposed to show you both around. How ridiculous that seemed to me after what you had just been through. Your eyes were full of despair as you looked around. When I led you to Cabin 11.

This worn-out cabin where we were all supposed to rot until our parents took pity on us. I had been in there for a whole year before you came. Did you ever know that?

Chiron turned to me. He helped me to calm down and looked at me sternly. "Didn't I tell you to go to your cabin? Stubborn girl." he said, smiling gently. "Would you show these two around, please? Cabin 11 as usual."

"Chiron, I can't do that now." I couldn't look him in the eyes. The tears had stopped but my head throbbed.

"You have to be strong for them now," he interrupted me in a whisper. "Right now we have to welcome them with open arms. Show them that they are safe here now."

With that, he galloped off and left us alone. The boy eyed me suspiciously while the girl was still sitting on the ground.

"Hey..." I began as I walked over to them. "I should show you around, is that okay?"

The boy didn't answer and just looked at the little girl. Annabeth turned to me. Without saying anything, she stood up and nodded. Strong girl.

"Then follow me." I looked at the boy expectantly, but he made no move. Finally, the girl spoke up. "Come on Luke," her voice trembled slightly. "Grover said we were safe here and Thalia fought for us to be here. So come on."

At these words, the boy walked over to us. We walked around slowly. Past the main building and then finally to the cabins.

"These are the twelve cabins. Each cabin represents which god is your parent. Since we don't know that for you yet, you'll go to the 11th cabin first. That's Hermes cabin."

"But we know who Luke's is...," Annabeth began, but the boy named Luke interrupted her. "Why do we have to sleep in this cabin? Why is it so crowded?"

This question put me on the spot. I hated to admit what our parents were really like. I'd been here for a year and a half and still... "Well, the gods must claim their children so that we can divide them up into their cabins."

Luke's gaze turned cold. "And all these children weren't claimed? That's why they have to squeeze in here when there are so many free cabins?" I nodded.

"Who's your parent?" Annabeth asked me. I looked away again, embarrassed. "I haven't been claimed yet either."

Luke shook his head slowly. He stared at the symbol of hermes. "Gods only want to feel great about themselves."

I led the two of them into the cabin and showed them where they could sleep. Annabeth took a seat near Luke and remained silent. I just couldn't believe that she had to watch all this. It was too awful.

"What's your name?" Luke's voice surprised me. For the first time, he looked at me. I told him my name. We were silent for a while. But I told them about the days here and about the campfire.

Luke just nodded and layed down on his sleeping bag. Annabeth looked at him almost desperately. But she stayed with him.

"Hey, do you want me to show you the training grounds?" I asked her to take her mind off things.

She looked over at luke in silence. He turned to the other side. "Go on, Annabeth. I'm exhausted, but you don't have to stay with me."

She looked at him for a long time but then stood up. "Okay, show me." she finally said and I had to smile.

"Just follow me." We walked out of the cabin, but at the cabin door I checked on luke again. He was staring at the staff of hermes on the top of the wall.

Finally, I turned around and showed Annabeth the training places. "Here, for example," I began. "Can we find you a special weapon against the monsters."

She shook her head. "Not necessary." She took out a dagger. "I already have this one."

At first glance, the dagger looked normal, but on closer inspection I saw that it was made of heavenly bronze.

"Where did you get it?" I looked at her in surprise. She was very young, why did she already have such a weapon? She looked away, embarrassed. "Luke gave it to me."

I preferred not to think about the fact that Luke had given a little girl a knife to defend herself with. I'd rather just show her the other places.

It was getting late and we went back to the cabin to join the others for dinner. When we arrived, luke was still lying just as rigid as before. Cabin 11 lined up, but Luke stayed put.

"Luke, we're having dinner." I sat down next to him. He was still looking up. Stubbornly. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something." "I'll eat later." "But we always eat together." "Then we'll just make an exception." "It's not that easy. You'll get into trouble." "But I'm not hungry."

I had to sigh. Did I say stubborn? It was much worse. It was like I was talking to a wall.

He was still looking up. His posture was stiff and he didn't look like he had slept. I looked outside and watched the others who had already gone ahead. Outside, the trees were rustling and the sun was shining. As if the lord of heaven wasn't mourning his daughter. As if she had never existed.

"Luke," I began, my voice surprisingly bitter. "I understand that this is hard for you. I can't say I know exactly how you feel, of course, but we're all half-bloods. All sent here by the gods and abandoned by them. That's why we stick together. We are a family. We help each other. Annabeth seems to like it here. At least come for her today. You don't have to eat much, just a little, please."

Silence. I looked at him and realized that he had sat up, turned and was already looking at me. Suddenly he was very close.

"You like to talk, don't you?" he said and shame flooded through me. I quickly looked away and kicked myself in my head.

What was I thinking preaching to this boy after he had lost his friend? I was Terrible.

"Sorry..." I mumbled and felt myself blushing out of embarrassment, I got up and went to the door to escape this horrible moment.

"Hey, wait!" he shouted as I was about to leave. "Don't run away. I didn't mean it that way. You still have to show me the way to your dining room or whatever."

When I dared to look at him again, he smiled. And it was so beautiful. "Oh."

He laughed at this very imaginative answer and I had to smile. Eventually we went to dinner together.

The others were already eating when we joined them. Of course, our table was the most crowded. Annabeth looked very lost as she sat there uncomfortably. Of course, Luke sat across from her and smiled at her. Her shoulders relaxed immediately. I sat down next to her and she nodded at me.

"Just say what you want to drink, the cup will fill itself. And oh, leave some over so you can throw it in the fire." Luke looked at me questioningly. I shrugged my shoulders. "Offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

Most people would have laughed now. The smell? But Luke didn't laugh. No, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched around his cup. "Of course." he said, his voice bitter again. "They want offerings."

The awkward silence between us after that was oppressive. Annabeth looked up cautiously at Luke and then quickly back down at her food. At some point, I tried to get us out of the situation. I stood up.

"Let's throw the food into the fire. Then we can finally get to the campfire!" I went ahead and Annabeth followed me. Eventually even Luke.

"What are we even doing at the campfire?" asked annabeth after she had put her leftovers in the campfire.

I winked at her. "Let it surprise you."

We were among the last to join the campfire, as we started eating later. We sat and listened to the Apollo children sing and watched the stars.

But when we arrived, the others took a deep breath. Chiron fell to his knees and began to speak.

"Welcome child of Athena, divine warrior, goddess of wisdom and strategy." Annabeth's eyes shone.

Chiron took a deep breath and turned to luke. "Welcome child of hermes, protector of travelers, merchants, lord of thieves and the great messenger of the gods."

Everyone clapped, including me. I hadn't noticed the signs at first because I was sitting next to them and hadn't looked up. Somehow it made me sad that Annabeth had to move now, but I was pleased that their parents had shown their appreciation.

But Luke didn't seem at all surprised. Not happy either. He scowled into the fire and just nodded. I was a little envious of him too. Not even a day here and they were already claimed. Me, on the other hand...

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

We quickly became closer. Something drew me to this boy. It was nothing surprising, he looked beautiful. He wasn't just any boy. He was a golden masterpiece. But it went deeper than just his looks.

We thought very similarly.

I saw in his eyes this urge that we all shared. He wanted to show them. Rub under their noses what they were doing wrong. We shared that anger.

I crept quietly into the sword-fighting hall. I couldn't actually handle a sword, but that wasn't what I was here for. I was looking for someone. And sure enough, I found him here. He was training. Like every day.

He was great. Hit every training figure at the right point and swung his sword frighteningly well. I kept quiet and watched him. I didn't want to disturb him yet, he seemed so obsessed.

I watched him for a while until he seemed to be finished. Then he suddenly turned and looked at me. "If you're going to watch me, do it more discreetly."

Once again, I felt terrible and wanted to sink into the floor. "I didn't want to," I began but couldn't find the words. Eventually I just buried my face in my hands.

But he just laughed in response. "It's all right. Don't always worry so much." He came up to me and sat down next to me. We were silent for a while.

"Why?" I interrupted the silence. He looked at me questioningly. "Why are you training so hard?"

He looked at the floor and I suddenly felt bad. "I mean, we all train hard!" I tried to save myself. "But you train so much you seem... Angry." Obsessed.

He laughed again. But this laugh sounded rather bitter.

"My father wants to get me a quest. That's what he said, anyway." he said, continuing to look at the ground. His smile was still bitter.

I looked at him confused. "But that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

That was the end of the conversation. I didn't dare ask him any more about it, he seemed so far away. His eyes were fixed on his training sword as he twirled it in his hands.

When the sun shone on him, I realized for the first time how beautiful he actually was. He seemed to glow. I quietly watched his movements. I could have sat there all day. At some point he looked at me with a smile. And the tension in my shoulders, which I hadn't even noticed before, melted away.

"Do I have something on my face?" he laughed as I quickly turned away to hide my glowing face. "Come on, what's wrong?" he finally asked.

"Nothing." I replied. "Sometimes you just look so... Absent."

He fell silent again, but it wasn't an awkward silence. After a while, he sighed loudly and looked at me. His eyes seemed to express his vulnerability for the first time.

"I... Am just so...Angry sometimes! The gods, they rule our lives and at the same time they do nothing in it. Don't get me wrong, I like it here, the people are all great and I get along well with them. But I'm still so desperate! I can't do anything here. Just sit here all my life and trust that they have something planned for me up there."

I fell silent in response. He picked up a stone and threw it into the forest. "Don't you think we're going to perish because of them?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." I smiled at him. "Only the fates could know."

I picked up a smaller stone and threw it into the forest too. "You know..." I looked up into the sun, which perhaps also warmed me from the inside. "I have to admit that I've always been pretty indifferent to the gods. I was just happy to be able to live here." I threw a larger stone.

"But I've seen so much in a short time. Heard so much suffering. And the gods let it all happen. Often it's even because of them. And this is supposed to be our family?" I shook my head. "They don't care about us."

Wordlessly, he looked at the stones I had thrown. His back was tense and his eyes narrowed. I smiled cautiously at him.

"What I want to say, Luke, is don't worry too much about them. They don't waste a thought on us. Don't give them the satisfaction of wasting too many on them."

His tense back relaxed a little and he closed his eyes. Then he smiled again.

"You really like to talk."

Eventually you got the quest. Who was surprised? You seemed born to be a hero. It all happened far too quickly and suddenly you were supposed to go on this quest. Seventeen. What a horrible age that was. I was so deep down in the curse she send down on me. And then you were supposed to leave. I made so many mistakes the night before.

"I wish I could go with him." Annabeth sat with me in the forest and we watched the doves above us flying around together. "Annabeth..." I began, but she was already shaking her head. "I know I can't." she just mumbled and looked away.

She was far too young to be thinking about such quests. But when you grow up here and your only chance of being noticed by your parents are dangerous tasks, many have already become careless.

I watched as the white flower danced in the wind in front of me. It was a lily. The wind seemed to play with it and carried it around. And she just let it do that to her.

I picked up a stone and clasped it in my hand. Instead of throwing it, I held on to it, hoping never to let it go.

"Do you think he... You know... Can do it?" I asked her, squeezing tighter. Annabeth smiled at me.

"Of course he will! Luke can do anything, he's a great hero! Don't worry about it."

The flower was pushed slightly to the right by the wind and then looked at the ground.

My hand started to hurt, but I kept squeezing.

"You're right."

Annabeth smiled at me. I returned it a little awkwardly. We heard the dinner bell ring and Annabeth jumped up. She looked at me waiting.

"Go on ahead."

She hesitated at first but then finally ran off. When she was out of sight, I sighed loudly. I leaned against the tree behind me.

She could say that so easily. But I had seen so many campers go on quests. How they came back broken. Or how they were never seen again. Never see Luke again? The thought seemed unbearable.

A white dove landed next to the lily and tilted its head. Her gaze pierced me and my heart began to pound wildly.

I threw the stone at the white flower. The pigeon flew away in fright and I felt much better. The stone had hit the blossom of the flower but it remained slightly bent. Something red rubbed off on it.

Oh.

"There's our little criminal." Luke grinned at me as I came to the campfire. I tried to avoid his gaze, but somehow it still warmed me. "I thought we always ate together at dinner?"

I shrugged and sat down with him and the others from the cabin as usual. But today I put some distance between Luke and me.

"Wasn't hungry." I looked into the fire and tried to look very interested in the flames.

I was a bad liar.

"And since when is that an excuse?" he leaned forward slightly, closing the distance I had so diligently built up. His playful smile haunted my eyes. "You broke the rules!"

I laughed softly. "They're not as strict as I told you back then. I was just worried and wanted you to eat something."

He grabbed his chest dramatically. "You lied to me? How could you?"

He inconspicuously moved a little closer, as if I couldn't feel his every move. As if my heart didn't almost explode with each one. "Wait, you were worried?"

"Of course." I stroked my closed hand and continued to look into the fire. "You seemed so... Distant. You had made a big loss. I didn't want you to let yourself down."

"Oh is that so..." his voice was incredibly close. I nodded and continued to stare intently into the fire.

At some point he took my closed hand and now it was him who stroked it.

I noticed how others were watching us. I noticed how the fire seemed to dance. I noticed that annabeth was not here. I even noticed the little sparrows watching us in the trees above. Everything seemed so real and so far away at the same time. I wanted to die. I wanted to live.

I was embarrassed.

"Luke." I hated that my voice was shaking slightly. "Are you prepared?"

Luke laughed softly. "I've got my sword if that's what you mean. It's not as if my father gave me an original task. I already know what to expect, Heracles already had to do it."

He picked up a stick and threw it into the fire. "Before you know it, I'll be back."

I remained silent. The flames danced around him.

Actually, I wanted to say something else entirely. So much had to be said today, otherwise I might never be able to.

"What did you do with your hand? It's bleeding." He looked away as he said it. But his hand continued to rub over my closed hand. It burned but no longer hurt.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I fell stupidly. It's nothing big."

I was stupid.

He looked at me and I dared to look back. His eyes were so beautiful, but also a little sad.

"I can ask you to look after Annabeth while I'm away, can't I?" his voice sounded like a whisper.

I smiled back timidly. "I thought you'd be back before I even realized you were gone?"

He laughed in response. So freely and without constraint, I couldn't help but giggle a little too.

The trees were rustling and the sun was setting. With every second that it moved a little further towards the horizon, I felt more uncomfortable. His quest was getting closer and closer and maybe our last minute was too.

I was afraid.

"I will watch over her," I whispered at some point. "Even though I don't think she needs my protection."

He smiled uncertainly into the fire. "Maybe."

There was a long silence after that. I want to ask him so many things. Questions that never seemed appropriate to me. I don't know how much time we have left. But in this moment, I realize that it will never be enough. The gods have already taken her from us.

"Luke," my voice sounds unbelievably soft, I could cry. "You mentioned that Hermes told you he would give you a quest. You have already met him, haven't you? Not just in dreams."

His gaze remains on the fire. His eyes became slightly darker and I was about to take back my words and hide.

"Yes, we met once. It wasn't a pleasant day."

I saw him swallow and his hand closed around mine, which was bleeding. But it seemed more like he was bleeding.

"I... I went back to my old home because Annabeth, Thalia, and I needed some things. It was a mistake to go back there."

He never talked about his former home. Never about the time before Thalia, before Annabeth.

I want to ask him, to hold him in my arms, but I don't know where his boundaries lie.

"Was it bad?" His eyes meet mine and already give me the answer. They say 'yes.' 'It was unbearable.'

But he says nothing. Not a word.

The others are all gone now. The fire is getting smaller and the darkness is becoming more present.

"You know," he starts. "I don't know him." He takes a deep breath in and out. "Hermes. He's just a character in legends, supposedly my father. But I don't know him. I saw him once. And then I realized how little he really loves me. He left her alone."

I don't need to ask to know that he's talking about his mother. I know this feeling all too well.

"He was never there." His voice gets louder. "Never did anything. He knew! He knew about her episodes and never did anything! He just let me rot with her. And then he says that I made a mistake..." He trails off.

The silence that follows his wounded voice brings tears to my eyes.

He looks at me in panic. "No! I... It wasn't like that... Please don't cry!"

I can't help but cry even harder. I know what that's like. Alone with a woman who doesn't know what to do with herself. Without any support.

"Please..." his voice whispers as he wipes away my tears. "I'm fine."

You liar.

Told myself that you were right for me

"Are you ready to go back to the cabin?" his voice was so close to my ear as he held me in his arms.

I didn't look at him. I just couldn't look at him when it could be the last time.

"You go on."

I could feel him stiffen. His voice sounded a little strange when he spoke. "Why?"

I broke away from him. "You need to rest because of tomorrow."

I could feel him trying to catch my gaze. "So do you."

"I want to stay out for a while."

"You're breaking the rules."

"As if you care about them."

His voice became a little sharper. "What's wrong with you?"

I stood up. "I hate just thinking about you..."

"Yeah?"

"It's all good. The main thing is that you get some rest." I walked towards the forest. "Just let me clear my head. Please."

He wanted to say something. I sensed it. But he didn't say anything. Just stood up and walked to our cabin.

I trudged through the darkness to where I was talking to Annabeth.

The lillie was still standing. She was bent over and barely standing, but she was standing.

And then there was this eerie presence.

"I find it very rude when people throw stones at me."

But felt so lonely in your company

Despite my great faith in you, I sometimes couldn't follow you. Your thoughts were too much for me.

And you were you. I was me. Everyone in the camp loved you and always wanted to be with you. I was just one of so many.

Although I was with you so often, I understood so little about you.

I was alone in my faith.

After your quest, you changed. I didn't want to admit it but I realized it reluctantly. You also pushed me away from you more and more. And when I was claimed by Apollo at 17, you distanced yourself even more.

I was claimed far too late. I often asked myself why at that particular time. So soon after he had failed in his quest.

But when I think about it, maybe it makes sense. My father was the god of foresight. Maybe he wanted to save me from it when he realized what was going to happen.

Even if it's a nice thought, it's probably not true. Apollo can't see into the future. He can only tell a prophecy that he can't even interpret himself.

If I had received a prophecy, would anything have changed? Would I have behaved differently? Probably not.

Because although I realized that you had closed yourself off from me, I continued to approach you. I always went to you at the campfire. I always took your side at capture the flag.

One evening I didn't sat next to you at the fire. Next to you sat a beautiful girl from the Aphrodite cabin. I heard her talking to you.

"Why are you even talking to her?"

It was at the campfire. I was sitting far away, protected by the shadows of the trees. Nevertheless, I heard it loud and clear.

You didn't answer at first. The girl shifted uncomfortably. "Don't get me wrong," she said, "we all have these people we've known for so long that we're just always with them. But she always seems so out of place somehow."

I slipped further into the shadows of the trees. The moon hung just as it had that special night.

And yet it seemed so different.

"She's just always near you. Even now that she lives in cabin 7." Her voice sounded amused and I felt small.

"Yes, she's very desperate. "

Was it also a mistake to cry for you that night?

But that was love, and it's an ache I still remember

Unfortunately, my love for you didn't diminish. On the contrary, it grew stronger and stronger. Or maybe I only realized how strong it was when I knew that I was being too pushy with it.

I disappeared into the forest that evening and cried for hours. I don't know how you found me. Obviously you didn't know what I had overheard and asked me what was going on. You even made a worried face.

I couldn't answer you. Instead, you took me in your arms again and wiped away the tears on my cheeks. You whispered words of encouragement to me. And I let you be. Because I fell in love with you again. Isn't that pathetic?

I tried to stay away from you. Tried not to be so pushy. But you kept coming back to me. On days when I was only in the cabin, you came to me. Talked to me. Suddenly you were attentive. You thought I was feeling bad and tried to cheer me up.

And then you kissed me.

And when I was near you again, you never mentioned it. Again.

Suddenly you were distant again. I didn't know what to do. I felt so alone. I often wondered what you even saw in me. I was too caught up in my suffering that I couldn't see how you were. I was too confused by your behavior that I couldn't see the reasons behind it.

How were you? I don't know.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

I was trapped in my feelings for you. It was always the same process. You distanced yourself, I distanced myself, you approached me, we spent wonderful moments, I was with you again and you distanced yourself again.

And despite all the nights I cried, I always gave in. I kept letting you in on my feelings. You were simply the only one I could love. Why? I don't know. Maybe Aphrodite herself hated me. Or the fates.

I certainly hated myself.

Like resignation to the end, always the end So when we found that we could not make sense Well, you said that we would still be friends

Somewhere I had already given up. I loved you, but I had given up on us. I often saw you with other girls. They were all so much more beautiful than me, how could I think otherwise?

How could I try to understand your actions?

I was alone with my own self-doubt. With my own fears. What were you alone with?

I was too self-centered to see all these signs. Even when Percy came to camp and you were even less with me. My little siblings feel sorry for me. They see me as a girl hopelessly in love. Do you see it? What you've made of me?

Do you remember the evening before Percy came to the camp? The evening you visited me after I had kissed another boy. I was so terrible lonely to the time. And when this boy kissed me in front of the campfire I didn't fight it. He didn't even mean it. But you were still so angry when you came into my cabin. You kissed me like you wanted to make my lips yours again. Like they were ever someone else's.

When you kissed me that evening, I was filled with such a strong longing that I couldn't think. I allowed myself to return your kiss with such passion that I felt dizzy. Your arms pulled me closer to you. Fire seemed to burn all over my body.

As we lay on my bed and continued kissing, I started to cry. You stopped and moved away from me.

"What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?" Your voice sounded panicked. I cried even harder.

Tell me, do you think you've done something wrong?

As always, you wanted to take me in your arms but this time I pushed you away. I didn't want to cry in your arms when it was the same thing that made me cry in the first place. It was all so much. I remember the way you looked at me. For the first time I may have hurt you.

"I love you."

Oh how I wish I had said it. But I kept crying quietly.

"I'm sorry."

Did you want to say it at that moment?

But you didn't. And that's what mattered. You left.

I saw you with Percy when he was new. Admired you as always because you showed him everything like I used to show you. Because you didn't show him your pain because of the gods too much.

When Percy looked to see if he was a child of Apollo, he was with me. You too, because of course you wanted to help him. We talked normally again as we always did after that night when you had visited me.

Percy asked us if we were a couple. I still remember your face clearly. You looked at me hesitantly. As if I should answer. I smiled back at him.

"We're just friends."

What would have happened if I had said something else? Again, something I don't know. But I know one thing for sure. You had an iron look on your face afterwards.

You always looked at Percy funny afterwards too.

You didn't visit me the next nights.

But I'll admit that I was glad it was over

When Percy went on his big quest, you were like a different person. You completely ignored me. Your face looked like there was so much worry behind your eyes. And even though I saw all that, I didn't go to you.

I was so afraid that you would ignore me too if I approached you. Fear. Such a simple excuse and yet the only reason. You really broke me.

At first I thought it was because you had your own quest to think about. Of your own suffering and that percy, grover and especially annabeth could fail in the same way. I thought that was the only reason you were so introverted.

Then why didn't your behavior change even after they succeeded?

It even got worse. You were just training for days with no end. You only practiced sword fighting. As if you desperately wanted to improve. I thought maybe you were very bitter because they had completed the quest and you hadn't completed yours. That's why you wanted to improve so badly.

Or that you wanted to prepare for something.

But you didn't have to cut me off

~ The camp was... Eerily quiet. No one was out. As if no one dared to speak on such a morning. Will, a very young brother of mine, ran towards me.

"Percy's hurt!" he shouted, "We need your help!"

I rushed with him to the main building, where Percy was lying in a bed, with Annabeth and Chiron sitting by his side.

"What happened?" I asked as I looked at his wounds.

"He was stung by a scorpion or something..." said annabeth. Then she looked down. "Anyway, that's what he said... In his sleep."

I had to stop myself from frowning and got to work. Will left the room.

After a short while, he woke up. And then he said it.

"It was Luke."

Everything went quiet.

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a forced smile.

Percy sat up carefully. "It was Luke. He's the lightning thief."

Annabeth stiffened and Chiron sat there without saying anything.

"What are you saying?" I stopped cooling his forehead.

Annabeth sighed and looked away. Chiron seemed to understand what was going on.

"Luke poisoned me. Luke helped kron- the titan king." Percy's voice echoed through the room. Or was it just my head?

"You still seem to be affected by the poison." I tried to sound as normal as possible.

"No, he's right." annabeth shook her head. "That would explain a lot."

"What are you saying, Annabeth? You of all people should-" I began, my voice getting louder and louder.

"Percy would never lie." chiron interrupted me.

I looked at him. And ran out of the building.

And as I saw that he wasn't in the camp, my whole wirld collapsed. It wasn't just that he abandoned us. He didn't even talk to me.

He didn't even consider talking to me.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #angst no comfort #percy jackson #thalia grace #annabeth chase #greek mythology #Spotify

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