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surftrips · 10 months ago

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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

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queer-little-demigod · 8 months ago

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you belong with me - clarisse la rue

summary she's in love with her best friend.

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!Poseidon!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings jealous!clarisse, swearing, pining, knives, clarisse threatening people, fluff.

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune, check out their account!

At this point, Clarisse had no clue how the hell she fell for you.

You relationship had started when she'd tried to intimidate you on your first day at camp, and instead of backing down under her fierce as death gaze, you had threatened her at literal knifepoint.

"I've stood up to bullies bigger than you," you'd snapped, your soft e/c blazing with fire as the tip of a dagger kissed the underside of her jaw. “So back off, or I’ll make you regret it.”

While that earned you respect amongst everyone in camp, it earned you respect of every Ares cabin member, too.

Especially Clarisse la Rue.

The scariest girl in camp.

It had started off with her debating on whether or not she would be mean to you, making you her enemy, or befriending you.

She was strong, not stupid, so she chose the latter option.

Which brought you both here, today, three years later.

The spring season had started setting in, flowers were blooming, the sun was pleasant, wind wasn't scarce and it was cool. Sitting under the trees in the woods became a natural pastime for year-round campers like the two of you.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting irregularly shaped shadows on the ground, turning them a deep green on the slightly prickly but comfortable grass.

Clarisse leaned her back against the big tree you both were sitting under, polishing her spearhead, with you in front of her, doing the same for your knives.

The daughter of Ares, while she'd never admit it aloud, was absolutely smitten when it came to you. In fact, this feeling had been lingering in her heart for some time, one which attracted her to you in a definitely non-platonic way.

So here she sat, listening to you talking. Your voice was the only thing she was focused on besides polishing her weapon. It stood out amongst the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees, the call of a distant bird, the lapping of the lake's water against the edge just past the clearing.

"So, I told Silena that Charlie's in love with her, not her actual dumb blonde of a sister, Sharon," you said, rubbing the polish on the cloth you had in hand, before continuing to polish your left-hand knife. "You know, for a child of Aphrodite, she is remarkably oblivious towards loving advances. Oh, and you know that girl, Kyra, from the Hephaestus cabin? My gods, she has been looking so fine--"

Clarisse stopped listening right then. She knew you were smitten with this girl from the Hephaestus cabin, and by every one of the ever-merciful gods of Olympus, she hated it. She hated how you talked about Kyra, how your eyes lit up when the muscled girl covered with grease so much it was an accessory would glance at you.

She tuned out and stared at you, not noticing the disdainful look on her face.

"Risse, you look like you just smelled a wild centaur," you laughed, putting the cloth down and sheathing your knives again.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and grumbled, "No, I don't like Kyra's vibe."

"Aww, jealous?"

"You wish,"

You were so oblivious. Not only were you unaware that Kyra was a playgirl, but you didn’t notice that Clarisse was smitten with you to the point where it was embarrassing.

For starters she looked at you like you were the world. With adoration, awe, and wonder. She honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She hated how you didn’t notice how her eyes lit up around you, how she was softer with you compared to others, how she let you paint her nails (mostly) without complaint.

You were just too oblivious.

Naturally, that evening, that same evening, she was at the Ares table, talking with her own siblings, while she watched you help Percy out with the rest of the camp’s social structures—something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, even after having gone on a quest.

But the way her blood boiled, as if a furnace had lit up inside her heart, making fire course through her veins, when Kyra came up to you. She saw how flustered you got, saw the way your cheeks reddened when Kyra brushed a hair from your face.

By the gods and her father’s name she wanted to smack that Hephaestus girl into next week…

Meanwhile, you say with Kyra, enjoying the butterflies in your stomach when she touched you, laughed at your nervous rambling’s. But the butterflies suddenly came into light as a warning. What was the likeliness that this affection would last? What was concrete in this interaction? Was it just a playful banter? Or something serious?

So many questions, not enough answers.

But one thing was for certain: Kyra wasn’t the one for you. It took just one interaction for you to understand that.

To understand that Clarisse was right.

But before you could walk away, your hotheaded best friend, seething with anger, jealousy rolling off her in waves, came up to you both and ‘borrowed’ Kyra for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clarisse asked as she led a very surprised Kyra into the forest. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, playing with Y/n’s feelings like that?”

“Come on,” Kyra laughed, Nerva wearing off a little as her arrogance took over. “She’s a girl, a smitten little girl, who knows she likes a little bit of muscle,”

“Unfortunately she doesn’t know that there’s a snake under that damned muscle,”

“Jealous, Clarisse? Of course you are,”

“What that supposed to mean, punk?”

“You’re so in love with Y/n, it shows. Everyone in camp can tell,”

“Oh is that right? If you know that so well, then you’d better stay the fuck away from her,”

Kyra’s brows shot up. “Is that so? What if I don’t? What if I take her to this very spot, and kiss her, maybe while you watch from the bushes over there?”

Clarisse felt her fists clench, felt her whole body tense up with an adrenaline that came out only during battle.

“What if I break your legs and punch that stupid face in?” She asked, eyes full of the familiar fire that only her opponents saw. “I don’t think Y/n likes the taste of blood.”

She relished the look of panic on Kyra’s face. The trapped-animal stare, the darting irises, searching for a way out, analysing her moves in that second. The tense muscles, clenched jaw, closed fists. All of it was familiar to the child of war.

But how familiar was it to the child of the forge? Not much, probably.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/n, and you and I won’t have any problems, Kyra,” Clarisse said, her voice soft. That made it more dangerous. It was soft like the gentle rain that preceded the flooding thunderstorm—a warning.

Kyra nodded, knowing it was unwise to provoke Clarisse La Rue, especially over a girl everyone in camp knew not to mess with.

But it also meant that Clarisse figured out the depth of her love for you. That it was deeper than the vastest sea, stronger than the biggest tsunami, and more damaging than a hurricane. It was fiercer than fire, more powerful than a blow from her spear, and definitely more dangerous than war.

So she’s decided to flush out her feelings. Get them out before things got worse because she couldn’t possibly find a way to get out of the ‘philia’ situation she had going with you. She wanted ‘eros’, wanted ‘ludus’, and she knew it.

Her catalyst was the mind, she wanted it to be the body., wanted it to be the heart. She wanted you in a way that friends never wanted each other. She wanted you the way Achilles wanted Patroclus, wanted you the way Romeo wanted Juliet, the way Orpheus wanted Eurydice.

She wanted you and only you.

But she could never have that.

So she decided the best way to manage her haywire heart was distance.

But by every one of the gods, big and small, was she wrong.

You found that Kyra didn’t look in your direction ever again, and additionally, found Clarisse avoiding you with nearly psychotic fervour.

Three days. You tolerated it for three days.

Finally you stormed up to Clarisse when she was training. With a swift kick to the back of her knee, you sent her crashing to the ground, disarming her spear from her.

“What did you think you were doing, avoiding me like this?!” You seethed, knife at her throat. “What, was this your idea of punishing me for having Kyra flirt with me?”

Calmly, Clarisse moved you off her like one would brush away a particularly disgruntled cat, and stood up.

“Look, I’m fine, I wasn’t doing anything,” she shrugged, grabbing her spear.

You rolled your eyes. This girl was dumb, stupid, and an absolute useless person when it came to interacting with others.

“I don’t think ignoring me for three straight days can be counted as ‘not doing anything’!” You snapped, annoyed.

Clarisse flinched at your tone.

“Why?!” You asked, following her around as she cleared up the arena. “Why exactly have you been ignoring me, hm?”

She listened patiently to your incessant pestering, going about her business while you looked like you were about to blow a gasket with how mad you were since your hands began to move more animatedly, your frown deepening even more.

“Why the hell did you say that nothing’s wrong when something clearly is?! Are you jealous? Is that it?! Why?!” You asked, expecting her not to reply the way she had been the last ten minutes.

Clarisse had had enough. She was taking the plunge into that deep dark sea, not sure if she was ready to face the monsters in it.

“Because I’m in love with you!” She said, turning around with a terrified look on her face. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do about it because you clearly don’t love me back!”

You stood silent for a second too long. But she didn’t run. She stayed there, waiting for your answer.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, baffled.

No butterflies, nothing fluttered in your stomach, your heart rate merely quickened and your body pulsed in every place with serotonin.

No butterflies meant this wasn’t just a thing, a fling. It wasn’t mindless flirting.

This was ‘ludus’, the love of intimacy, pure love.

“Yes, Y/n, and it kills me every single day, hearing you ramble about Kyra, and you know what I’m thinking when you talk about her like that?” She asked, tears ready to come out of her eyes. “I think that I could treat you like a queen, like you’re above Hera herself. I think that why would you love a playgirl who won’t give a single fuck about your feelings, when I’m here already knowing what you want for breakfast every day of the week! I think that I could be better than her, that I am better than her, in every possible way, but you’re just blind! You don’t see that I look at you like you’re the world because you’re so smitten with a girl who would toss you aside for the next blonde girl she sees!”

You listened to her carefully, taking in her words. In between, neither of you knew when, she had started crying. Small tears rolled down her bronze skin, tracing small pathways in their trail of sadness, of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you replied softly, stepping closer, putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was blind to how you feel about me, I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,”

“And Y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? I can’t…I know that we can never be together and…” she stopped short when your hands went up to cup her cheeks.

“Why is that?”

“Philia, Y/n. Friendship love.”

“Who says it can’t progress?”

“You don’t love me back,”

“I do,”

“Friendship love doesn’t count here,”

“Bold of you to assume I’m talking about friendship,”

Clarisse froze.

“I love you too, Clarisse,” you said softly, looking at her in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about ‘philia’. Gods I love you the way Achilles loved Patroclus, the way Romeo loved Juliet, the way Orpheus loved Euridyce,”

“I thought that too,” she whispered, shocked. “How…”

“I know that because these three romances are the ones I’ve read to you,” you replied. “I know you, Clarisse. But I was too blind to see your love went past my mind and extended to my heart, my body, my soul. And I’m sorry for being blind.”

“You belong with me, not her,”

“Do you see me doubting that?”

She giggled softly. Clarisse La Rue, the most feared girl in camp, giggled like a little kid.

“It’s okay, I guess, you little dumbass,” she chuckled. “So…what now?”

“I don’t know, do we kiss?” You asked, confused. “You know I have never kissed a girl before and—“

She silenced you with a finger to your lips.

“Let’s…take it slow? Ease into it?” She asked. “Cause I have never kissed a girl either,”

“Be my girlfriend, though?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

#clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #friends to lovers

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parkerslatte · 1 year ago

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Overlooked | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre.

Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone.

Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation.

There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug.

Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while.

“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked.

“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”

“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”

“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.

“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued.

“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied.

“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”

It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.

“When is this happening?” Y/N asked.

“Two days time,” Feyre replied.

Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.”

Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore.

***

Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection.

When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever.

The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.

The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in.

While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped.

The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne.

When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N.

“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”

Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more.

Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own.

Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that.

Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room.

She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful.

Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her.

“The eldest Archeron sister.”

Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her.

“Yes?” Y/N said.

A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that.

“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual.

“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”

“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.”

Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”

Eris hummed.

Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest.

Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”

Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”

There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped.

“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned.

“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”

“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?”

Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”

Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N.

“Come and dance with me,” Eris said.

For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet.

Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight.

Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper.

Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”

“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”

“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N.

The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity.

“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”

“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.

“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”

“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded.

“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him.

“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”

Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares.

Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care.

“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music.

At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.

“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.

Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”

As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”

Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes.

“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”

Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after.

“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps.

Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity.

Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped.

“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief.

Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”

From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand.

“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented.

Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces.

“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered.

“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”

Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them.

“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed.

“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.

“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister.

“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”

“That’s not true,” Feyre said.

“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”

“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.

“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”

Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”

The Inner Circle were silent.

“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”

“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”

Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”

“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.

“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”

“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”

Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”

A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”

Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”

Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist.

“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”

“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”

“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”

“She is not staying–”

“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”

“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.

Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”

“How long will that be?” Elain asked.

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance.

Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”

Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight.

Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home.

“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her.

Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed.

Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place.

“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”

“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away.

“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.

“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”

Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”

Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”

Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”

“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.

“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”

Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.

“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #acotar x reader #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #ACOTAR

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moonriverrise · 2 years ago

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Steve has a secret, well “secret” may not be the correct way to describe it. He has something for himself, thats what. Ever since he stopped playing basketball and doing swim competitions once he graduated he's had way more free time, which at first he filled with shifts at Family Video, or bothering Robin.

Then, when she started school he started doing art more. Which, may come a surprise to many, as he never really talked about his interest in paintings and old art.

Greek sculptures that are able to show life in a still ethereal way, while still being able to twist it at their will. Renaissance oil paintings, capturing tragedy yet still being able to portray it as beautiful, in their own terrible twisted ways.

He likes sketching on paper, painting on canvas. His paintings aren't usually too different from the things he sees around him. Honestly thats the only things he paints, people, his friends, places he goes, things he sees that stick with him, dreams, moments that play on repeat in his head.

Around his Junior year, after the Demogorgon, Steve had turned the sad basement in his sad empty house, into his own space. A place where he can go and do his art, hang it, play music on his walkman, or using the record player he got from a pawn shop a few months prior. Somehow the basement is the only space that actually feels like his in his house, not even his bedroom.

Steve’s art was not very consistent to be honest, mostly the kids and Robin, landscapes that he liked, the Demogorgon/dogs, the Mindflayer (he needs some way of getting those out of his head, and somehow drawing them down feels freeing.) He does have a few paintings of Nancy from when they were together, she’s become less of a model for his work after everything though.

The last time he painted her in a painting alone, was one of that bathroom in a girl he barely knows’ house, a spilled drink on Nancy’s dress, and red solo cups littering the counter.

Steve’s art shifts though, after a moment that will never leave his mind. He knows who Eddie Munson is, obviously. How could he not? Honestly Steve isn't that surprised Henderson and the others befriended the guy, he does run a DnD club.

But then, Henderson needs a ride home after their club meetings because his mom is working late, and then Lucas and Mike’s parents are also asking Steve to pick them up too. Babysitting duty, as per usual.

Steve arrives a bit earlier than he planned. He didn't have any project to consume himself into, hitting an art block begrudgingly. But then, Steve sees Eddie Munson, sitting on a fake throne, watching the kids and other club members argue, he has his chin rested on his fist, and he's wearing a white tank top, showing off his shoulders, given the fact it’s still September.

The lighting of the small theater room captures Steve’s interest like a moth to the flame, and he is regretting having left his sketchbook at home, even though he never draws around the kids or anyone he knows.

Eddie Munson’s face and curly locks fill up the pages of Steve’s journal and some canvases for months after, and Steve rarely genuinely complains about coming to pick the kids up.

Afterwords, months later from that day. Chrissy Cunningham dies, and Eddie Munson almost goes with her. God, or whatever deity that was looking down upon him, was on Steve’s side in that moment, when he was able to revive Eddie and then drag him out of the Upside Down.

Steve gets closer with Eddie after that, they become actual friends. Steve was so used to witnessing his muse from afar, it was so…exciting, to see Eddie in all his glory, just a few feet away, and his smile being directed at him.

“Do you even have any hobbies, Harrington?” Steve blinks. Him, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and the party, are all hanging out by the pool. Steve is lounging on one of the chairs, sunglasses over his eyes as Eddie talks beside him.

“What?” Steve responds.

“I mean…I like barely ever see you do anything besides sort Movies at Family Video, or boss around the kids. Like, what do you do when we're not all together?” Eddie asks, moving his hand a little as he talks. Steve thinks for a moment.

“Funny,” Steve answers instead. Eddie scoffs.

“I'm being serious, man! What do you do?” Eddie laughs a little, most likely at the ridiculousness of it all. What would Steve know, Eddie is like a puzzle, and Steve has to take every minute slowly, deciphering everything he lays out for him, via tongue or action.

“I don't know, what do you do?” Steve says, almost carefully.

“Band stuff, DnD, Writing,” Eddie lists. “And I guess saving the world now, but thats a bit of a side hussle.” Steve scoffs.

“Whatever, man.” And thats that, they don't talk about it again. But it sticks with Steve, because his friends really do think he doesn't do anything with his life. It's not like he has college classes to study for, so what does he do?

Later, maybe two or three weeks after, Steve decides he wants to show Eddie his space. The two of them are alone, Robin is in Nevada, visiting her grandparents, so the trio’s usual movie night is cut down to a duo’s movie night.

Although Steve finds himself mostly focusing on Eddie and his beautiful hair sitting next to him, than watching ET. The little alien scares him a bit anyway. Eddie notices him staring though, his eyes flickering to meet Steves, then a smirk spreading across his lips.

“We are watching a movie, lover boy.” Eddie says. Steve goes red, his gaze shifting to his lap. Steve furrows his eyebrows then stands and shuts the TV off. “Woah! Hey!”

“I want to show you something.” Steve says, it's a bit quieter than he meant it to be, but his tone indicates something to Eddie, which has him staring at Steve, starstruck.

Steve walks out the room and hears Eddie follow him. He gets to the basement door and opens it, flicks on the stair light.

“Basement- woah- okay, guess I'm getting murdered. Thought I’d go out in a more metal way than this.” Eddie says as they walk down. Steve laughs a little and shakes his head.

“I just think you should see this.” Steve says. “Nothing life threatening, I promise.”

“Alright, I trust you, Stevie.”

“Good.”

Steve turns and flicks on the light as they step onto the concrete. The lights flicker on, revealing the paintings on the walls and art supplies on the tables and counters.

“Woah-” Eddie says. “Is this, all your stuff?” Steve sighs, he folds his arms and faces Eddie. He looks shellshocked.

“Yeah.” Steve says. “You said I don't have any hobbies, I do, actually.” Eddie looks around, walking slowly.

“Is that Henderson? Why is he wearing yellow gloves?” Eddie asks. Steve walks over to a painting of Dustin from Steve’s angle while they were walking on the train tracks, a bucket of raw meat is in one hand and he's wearing the headphones for his radio.

“D’Art,” Steve says. “That was when we were leading him away. I made that one after everything happened. I was trying not to think about the Demogorgon stuff and everything, so I just drew him. I have one of Max from that day I never finished painting in a stack I think too.” Eddie doesn't say anything for a minute after Steve is done explaining.

“You can paint.” Eddie says, though not like a question. “These are beautiful…” Eddie looks around and walks to another one he sees. It's one of the Byers and Hopper’s, all hugging while laughing. El looks the happiest. Steve had painted that after they had all gotten together after everything. “Why…didn't you tell anyone?”

“About what?” Steve asks, folding his arms as Eddie brings up a hand to touch the painting.

“This- Steve, you're amazing at this. These are…” Eddie trails off as something catches his eye, he slowly starts to walk towards a big painting propped up behind one of the tables laid out in the middle of the room. Steve walks to him to see which one he's looking at.

An angel, knelt over a puddle, crying as it stares at his reflection, which is blurred and dark. He stands in a forest, his wings are long and huge, sprawling out above him.

It’s one of Steve’s bigger ones, the inspiration came from a dream he had after they had read about Icarus in his english class back in Highschool.

“It’s… magnificent.” Eddie whispers. Steve smiles gently at Eddie’s reaction. Eddie backs up a bit and looks away from the painting. “Is that me?” Steve follows his eye, to the painting. Eddie walks towards it, Steve stays behind him. It’s the first one Steve ever made of Eddie, the one of him on the throne.

“Yeah, it is.” Steve says. “I made that the first night I came to pick up the kids.” He says. “The first time I met you, actually met you.” They share a look.

“You are incredible, Steve Harrington.”

#this was way longer than i meant it to be #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie ficlet #sock meister drabbles #hope yall liked this cuz it got kinda stuck in my head after i had a whole class on art and the renaissance so

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soulofapatrick · 6 months ago

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Heal Me - Percy Jackson x Female reader

Summary: Percy flirts with you while you heal him during a game of Capture the Flag

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: injuries

Y/N's POV

As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink, the infirmary of Camp Half-Blood buzzes with activity. The day's Capture the Flag match has left its mark, both on the battlefield and in the infirmary. I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling a sense of camaraderie among my fellow children of Apollo.

The infirmary is a symphony of healing, with each of us Apollo offspring moving with grace and purpose. Our hands, guided by our father's divine gift, dance over the wounds of our fellow campers, weaving spells of restoration and comfort. The scent of medicinal herbs hangs in the air, mingling with the soft murmurs of our incantations.

As I finish tending to a particularly nasty wound on a camper's arm, I turn to see Clarisse La Rue hobbling in, her usually fierce demeanour marred by signs of fatigue. Despite her grumbling, there's a sense of resilience in her eyes as she recounts the day's events.

"It seems you've been through quite the ordeal," I remark, offering her a reassuring smile as I guide her to a vacant cot.

Clarisse snorts, but there's a flicker of appreciation in her expression as I begin my assessment of her injuries. The gash on her arm speaks of fierce battles, the bruise on her thigh a testament to her determination, and the burn mark on her shoulder a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest.

"Those opposing demigods won't know what hit them," she grumbles, though her tone carries a hint of pride amidst the pain.

With practiced hands, I apply soothing salves and healing spells, easing her discomfort with each gentle touch. As the last of her wounds begins to mend, I can't help but feel a surge of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity.

"There," I say, offering her a warm smile as I finish my work. "You'll be back on your feet in no time.”

Clarisse grunts in acknowledgment, but her eyes hold a glimmer of gratitude as she pushes herself upright, ready to face whatever challenges await her beyond the walls of the infirmary.

As I meticulously tend to Clarisse's injuries, I can't shake the relief coursing through me that I'm not out there on the battlefield today. While the thrill of Capture the Flag has always enticed me, there's a different kind of fulfilment found within the walls of the infirmary. Here, amidst the scent of herbs and the soft hum of incantations, I find solace in the quiet yet profound satisfaction of helping to mend my friends.

Across the room, my brother Will navigates the challenges of a compound fracture with his usual calm and skill. The young Hermes camper, fighting back tears of pain, finds comfort in Will's gentle touch and soothing words. Our eyes meet briefly, sharing a silent understanding of the importance of our roles here. In this sanctuary of healing, we wield our abilities to safeguard the well-being of our fellow demigods.

Just as I finish applying a healing balm to Clarisse's arm, the infirmary door creaks open once more, revealing Annabeth supporting a barely-conscious Malcolm. Without hesitation, I rush to their aid, joining Annabeth in guiding Malcolm to a vacant cot. His injuries are severe—a deep cut mars his forehead, likely inflicted by the sharp edge of an Ares child's sword, while his leg is twisted at an awkward angle.

Instinctively, I assess the extent of his injuries, my heart sinking at the sight of his pale complexion and laboured breathing. But there's no time for despair. With focused determination, I set to work, channeling the healing energies bestowed upon me by our divine parent to mend Malcolm's wounds and ease his pain.

As I work, a sense of urgency drives me forward, fuelled by the knowledge that every moment counts in our world of constant peril. Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a profound sense of purpose that anchors me—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the healing touch of a friend.

"Thanks," Annabeth says, her voice carrying a hint of weariness despite her determination, "They set a trap for us near the creek. I should have seen it coming.”

I offer her a sympathetic nod, understanding all too well the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. "It sounds like you had a close call. I'm glad you're okay.”

A silent exchange of gratitude passes between us as Annabeth squeezes my shoulder before slipping back into the fray outside. The battlefield awaits her, but here in the infirmary, we continue our quiet work of healing and care.

Turning my attention back to Malcolm, I apply a soothing poultice to his bruise and carefully tend to the cut on his forehead. Each action is imbued with a sense of urgency, a silent prayer for his swift recovery in the face of adversity.

As I finish wrapping Malcolm's injured leg, the infirmary door swings open once more, admitting Percy Jackson. His usual air of confidence is overshadowed by the weariness etched into his features, his body bearing the scars of battle. Deep claw marks mar his chest, a testament to the ferocity of his adversaries, while a vicious burn on his arm adds to the litany of injuries he carries. A pronounced limp accompanies him, signalling the presence of a serious sprain or break.

Despite the severity of his wounds, Percy's gaze remains steady as he meets mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In this moment, words are unnecessary—our shared understanding of the dangers we face is enough.

"Hey," Percy says, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips despite the bruises marring his features. "I think I might need some help.”

I arch an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. "You do realise you can heal yourself with water, right? There's a perfectly good lake just outside.”

He shrugs, his grin turning sheepish. "Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see my favourite Apollo camper, would I?”

Percy's flirtatious banter washes over me, stirring a mix of amusement and warmth within. Despite the chaos and injuries, his easygoing nature never fails to lift my spirits. But beneath the teasing lies a subtle tension, a hint of something deeper that tugs at my heartstrings.

Suppressing a smile, I step closer to Percy, my concern for his injuries overriding the flutter of emotions stirring within me. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the best healer in camp," I reply, injecting a mock confidence into my tone. "Now, let's get you patched up before those wounds start attracting monsters.”

Before I can even finish my sentence, Percy is already in motion, swiftly shedding his shirt and armour with practiced ease. As his shirt slips off his broad shoulders, revealing the intricate network of scars and the defined muscles beneath his skin, I can't help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere around us.

The infirmary seems to hold its breath as Percy sits before me, his physique a testament to the trials he's faced and the battles he's won. His sea-green eyes, flecked with gold like sunlit waves, shimmer with determination and resilience, a reflection of the depths of his soul. His hair, as black as the depths of the ocean, falls in untamed waves around his face, framing his rugged features with an air of wildness and defiance. There's a hint of stubble along his jawline, a reminder of his journey from boyhood to manhood, marked by trials and triumphs.

But it's not just Percy's physical appearance that captivates those around him; it's the aura of strength and vulnerability that surrounds him, drawing others to him like moths to a flame. Despite the scars that mar his skin and the burdens he carries as the son of Poseidon, there's a warmth in his smile, a kindness in his gaze that speaks volumes about the goodness within him.

As Percy moves with a grace that belies his injuries, the other girls in the infirmary can't help but steal glances in his direction, their eyes lingering on his chiseled features and the effortless confidence with which he carries himself. Some whisper among themselves, their voices hushed with awe and admiration, while others offer shy smiles or lingering looks of appreciation.

But amidst the silent admiration, I remain focused on my task, to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care. As my hands work to mend his injuries, I can't help but feel a sense of connection to him, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship.

As I continue to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care, a sense of focus descends upon me, blocking out the whispers and stolen glances from the other girls in the infirmary. My hands move with practiced ease, guided by the healing energies of Apollo as I work to mend the gashes and bruises that mar his skin.

Sensing the need for a better angle to properly treat the gash on his chest, I make a split-second decision and sink to my knees in front of him. The move catches Percy off guard, his sea-green eyes widening slightly in surprise before a mischievous grin spreads across his lips.

"Well, well," he quips, his voice laced with playful amusement. "If you wanted to get between my legs, Sunshine, you only had to ask.”

His words send a rush of heat to my cheeks, flushing them crimson as I glance up at him, momentarily lost for words. Despite the teasing tone, there's a warmth in Percy's gaze, a silent reassurance that eases the tension between us.

Clearing my throat, I focus on the task at hand, my hands steady as I continue to tend to his wounds. Percy's thighs part slightly at my presence, a silent invitation that doesn't go unnoticed, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, Percy’s taking the cloth from my hand and tossing it aside, the action catching me off guard. Before I can react, he hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. I can't help but be drawn in by the depth of his eyes, the silent communication passing between us palpable in the charged atmosphere of the infirmary.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a seemingly innocent gesture that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me. I can't tear my eyes away from the subtle movement, my breath catching in my throat as Percy smirks, the tension between us thickening with each passing moment.

In that moment, it's as if the world falls away, leaving only Percy and me in our own private bubble of desire and longing. The air crackles with anticipation, every touch and glance laden with unspoken promises and hidden desires.

As Percy's fingers linger against my skin, tracing the line of my jaw with a feather-light touch, I feel a surge of electricity surge through me. It's a sensation unlike anything I've ever experienced, a heady mix of fear and excitement that leaves me breathless and wanting more. But before I can fully process the intensity of the moment, Percy leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. The air between us pulses with raw energy, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as we stand on the precipice of something unknown.

And then, with a soft sigh, Percy closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within me. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts melt away, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. It's a kiss filled with passion and longing, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts fade into the background, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired.

As the kiss deepens, Percy's hands move with purpose, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer to him. The touch of his fingers against my scalp sends shivers down my spine, the sensation both electrifying and comforting at the same time. With each caress, he draws me further into the depths of his embrace, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

Feeling emboldened by his touch, I let my own hands roam, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders with trembling fingers. His skin is warm beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the cool air of the infirmary, and I revel in the sensation of being so close to him.

But it's not just the physical closeness that leaves me breathless; it's the intensity of our connection, the unspoken understanding that passes between us with each fleeting touch. In Percy's arms, I feel safe and cherished, as if nothing in the world could ever harm me.

As the kiss deepens, our breath mingles in a heated exchange of desire and longing. Percy's hands trail down my back, pulling me up from my knees and onto his solid lap in one fluid motion. The movement is effortless, as if we were always meant to be this close, this intimate.

For a moment, our lips remain locked in a passionate embrace, unwilling to break the connection that binds us together. But as the need for air becomes too pressing to ignore, we reluctantly part, gasping for breath as our chests heave with the intensity of our shared desire.

Percy's grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if afraid I'll slip away if he lets me move even a few centimetres away. There's a hunger in his gaze, a primal need that mirrors my own, as he looks up at me with eyes darkened by desire.

In that moment, with Percy's intense gaze fixed on me, I feel a rush of heat spread through my body, igniting every nerve ending in a blaze of sensation. It's a heady mix of desire and vulnerability, as if we're teetering on the edge of something vast and unknown, ready to leap into the abyss together.

As our eyes lock in silent understanding, I realise that this is more than just a fleeting moment of passion—it's a declaration of our shared connection, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship.

And as Percy pulls me closer, his lips seeking mine with a newfound urgency, I know that in this moment, we are bound together by something greater than ourselves—a love that defies the odds and transcends the boundaries of time and space.

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@papichulo120627 @guacam011y @alexxavicry @luuuciiia-mr @chan

#percy jackson #percy Jackson x reader #percy Jackson x you #percy Jackson x y/n #percy Jackson smut #percy Jackson fluff #percy Jackson angst #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackson series #camp half blood #pjo fandom #percy Jackson one shots #percy Jackson headcanons #Logan lerman

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wanted-game-if · 10 months ago

Text

Wanted Game is a cowboy fantasy with some lovecraftian horror interactive fiction game

You wake up in the middle of nowhere, the sun blistering hot

no food,

no water,

and probably the most concerning thing of all you don't remember anything not your name, not where you are and not what you look like

You are found by a gang of outlaws the leader (or who you assume the leader to be) takes you captive but then offers you a deal you can't possibly pass up but things smell fishy.. they are outlaws who are there for their selfish reasons how can you truly trust them;

especially when they all seem to know something about you even though you have a mask stuck to your face they aren’t willing to tell what they know about you

no matter how close you get or how many tricks you try

• A customizable Mc though physical customization is somwhat limited until later in the story.

• Paint/design the mask and thought out the story their will be some options that will affect your mask

• Romance 10 of the charaters 7 main ones and 3 youll just have to figure out, one of the secret romances is a poly route with Oscar, got commitment issues or just looking for fun theres a large aray of flings along the road so dont you worry

• Doom or help the jobs succeed with your choices

• Grow relationships with the rest of the gang {{and even the group of bounty hunters chasing after you and the gang}}

• When not doing jobs entertain your self with a hobby or work on your skills

Oscar || He/They || 24 || 5’3

Growing up in the gang most would probably assume Oscar is mean, greedy, selfish but if given the chance you would find a soft caring man with a love for literature almost always with a book when he is not scouting or helping his ma with sewing up clothes the gang tend to wreck

Emile || Xe/Xem || 27 || 5’10

Oscars older brother Emile is very protective of Xyrs little brother emile is known to sleep around and be a massive flirt but never actually letting anyone be anything to Xem then a pretty face Xe can fool around with. sometimes you catch Xem staring at you with a expression you don’t quite understand

Louis || He/Him || 30 || 6’2

A very quiet man always tending to the horses or making wood sculptures hes very quiet keeping to himself not because of anything distrustful or rude he seems to just like being alone he is always looking to help out with jobs as long as he can keep his distance with people

Boss || He/Him || 58.. || 6’0

{{ Attracted to anyone but must be close to them emotionally before he does anything sexual in nature }}

A very talkative older man with alot of elegance for a outlaw he always has plans brewing though his number one goal is keeping the gang safe. He tends to be overprotective of everyone and can be a very hotheaded man its very easy to press his buttons

Ares || he/they/she || 28 || 5’11

Growing up in high society Ares learnt to be a very charismatic and social fellow most people would call her a charming, gentle, kind person but if you peer close enough through their wall you will soon learn that she is not at all what she appears and she has a more nasty complex towards commoners, rich folk and especially outlaws

Clara || She/Her || 40 || 5’5

Clara a sweet older lady recently joined up with the gang temporarily to help get funds to get her home but something about her story doesn’t add up, she seems like she wouldn’t hurt a fly so many dismiss her but some ought remember she is still an outlaw no matter how sweet she seems

Adelaide || She/Her || 37 || 4’9

Adelaide is the best with all things traps, distractions and explosives she cant be a bit much always adding a flare to everything and talking so fast you only barely understand she isn’t very observant when it comes to body language and tone so don’t expect her you realize your emotions straight away. she is also Boss’s Niece

T} ??? || he/him || 30 || 6’0 || Poly route with Oscar

“They are so utterly perfect for him I’m jealous of them but i also want them aswell how selfish my heart is”

S} ??? || They/Them || 29 || 5’8

“In darkness she is the one stray ray of light that kisses my face”

J} ??? || they prefer just to be called by their name || 33 || 6’5

“Its against my job, my morals,my life so tell me why it feels so right”

||Demo:TBA || Pinterest || Art Acc || My boundaries and asks boundaries

Sorry for any misspellings or weird way i worded things

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bones4thecats · 8 months ago

Note

Hello 👋🏻

Could I request Heracles, Buddha and Hades finding out their s/o is cursed with immortality because she managed to kill several gods as a mortal? In her defense, she was being hunted down by the gods.

What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed? Characters: Heracles, Buddha, and Hades Requester: Anonymous

A/N: The God that I used for the story to fit together for my writing is completely fake. He does not exist (that I am aware of) in any kind of mythology or religion.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💪 Heracles has heard many stories from his fellow Gods about a 'God-Killing Human' and how dangerous they were that even they had taken down a former high-ranking God by the name of Merikh, who was the God of Death

💪 When you had killed said God, you were brought to the peak of a nearby mountain and offered by the humans as a sacrifice for your crimes against the Gods

💪 Zeus and a few others saw potential in you, so, instead of torturing you in many ways, like how they did Tantalus for trying to feed his son to them, they had gifted you with immortality, though you were not considered a God in their books

💪 You had been alive for a few centuries when Heracles became a God, but when you had first met him, you didn't confirm that you were the Immortal Killer of Gods, instead you said you were an average human with no value to him

💪 Heracles had bonded with you through many years, and the only reason he discovered you were immortal was when Ares had come with him and he had come across you after their training

" Oh! Ares, this is my- " " You know the Immortal Killer of Gods?! Heracles, you know what Dad'll say! " " Wait... you're the- WHAT?! "

💪 Despite trusting many despite their flaws, Heracles was very scared that you had lied to him about loving him and everything else. But, when he had spoken to his uncle Hades about it, he gained the knowledge that instead of immortality being a gift to you, it was more like curse for thinning their divine-numbers

💪 All of his concern about if you were lying had faded away, well, more like moved to the category of are you okay and what could you possibly be going through whenever coming across a divine being such as Heracles?

💪 But his biggest question was; why didn't you hate him?

💪 When you replied with how he had nothing to do with your sentencing and how it was your actions that led you to this, not his and how he didn't need to blame himself, he felt his heart melt and tears pocket in his eyes

💪 Despite living with such an everlasting and probably torturous life, you still do not hate those who punished you, you knew from the centuries you spent alone that this was what you should have expected. Though, Heracles still scolds you if you go into a depressive state of blaming yourself

" Dear, don't blame yourself. All humans makes mistakes! Myself included! Oh no, please don't cry anymore! Wait, no- "

🍭 As a human-turned-God, Buddha did not really see any issue with being this. In fact, he found it nice to round about and spend the rest of his 'afterlife' relaxing and keeping up with his path of enlightenment, and he loved to help others get on that path as well

🍭 While he was alive, he had heard stories of a human that killed many Gods, including one by the name of Merikh, a Death God who had tried killing many children just because he could

🍭 Buddha could sense something was wrong with you when he first met you on his path to enlightenment, you were just sitting beside a random river while your long white and gold robes flowed in the air, while a thick line of face-paint laid on your eyes from one side to the other

🍭 He just felt that you were far to quiet for your own good. But, since you didn't get up and join his group, Buddha just smiled, waved, and went on his merry way, not expecting to see you ever again

🍭 But, when he had awoke as a God and took a small walk a few hundred years after, he had noticed a familiar form at the edge of the river; you.

🍭 Before your relationship even began, he knew you were a form of divine being. But, he had no idea how you had gained the power of immortality, but as far as he guess, you could have been born with it

🍭 So, when Brunhilde had come to him to ask if she could have you fight in the next round of Ragnarok against a new and dangerous God, he declined, saying he didn't want his delicate immortal S/O to die

🍭 Brunhilde had spilled the beans. Telling your story of killing God after God until you made it to Merikh centuries before Buddha's birth. But, unlike Heracles, Buddha doesn't view you differently, you were his S/O. Plain and simple.

" Brunhilde, I understand why you would want 'em to fight. They're strong, and that's plain to see when they glare at anyone. But, I am not letting them risk their life against some new douche from the Norse Pantheon. They're my S/O to protect and cherish, and I plan on doin' that for a long time, longer than these last few centuries. Do they're not doing it, got it? "

🍭 He also loves to just stand there and flip of Zeus with you, since he had cursed you in the first place and Buddha just didn't like the old geezer

💀 Hades had known about you for centuries, as he was one of the Gods who was against torturing you, and instead just giving you a sentence of immortality to satisfy the lives lost of their allies

💀 This guy is very distant, even to most of his own Pantheon, so he always has had rumors floating around that he may be doing something behind everyone's back. Well, technically he was, but still- you get the point!

💀 Whenever Hades would go up to the surface and relax in the rare sunlight he ever gets, he would always try visiting you in your small home located deep within the forest

💀 He had noticed you had gotten used to being an immortal quite quick, and that shocked him. It had taken Heracles a little while to accept the fact that he was immortal himself, but you accepted it within a couple years while his was nearly double your time!

💀 Hades had asked you to be his one and only a few hundred years of knowing one another, and when you said yes, he just smiled and spun you around, thanking his fellow Gods for you being immortal like him

💀 But, Hades didn't understand how this had been affecting you internally...

💀 While you seemed to accept outliving everyone you cared about, on the inside, you were the complete opposite. You had had many panic attacks and nightmares of the Gods you had killed, especially the Death God, Merikh, in which you would wake up in a cold sweat

💀 The only reason that he found out was because of your small friendship with Hermes, who was a well-known gossiper. He had found out about your nightmares getting worse and had confronted his uncle about it, not sparing a detail, much to your annoyance

💀 Hades had come to you directly and, while you were away, had his servants move your things from your home to his. He didn't do this to observe you more- well, he kinda did, I guess- BUT. He mainly did it because you were married and married couples live together!

💀 Yeah right

💀 It only took a couple nights together for your nightmares to calm down, as feeling the lovingly-tight grip your husband had on your midsection made you feel protected and adored instead of hunted and hated for your actions of the past

" Sweet-Skull, you have no need to cry over such an event happening to you. As long as I am here, nobody, and I mean nobody, will ever come close to harming you again. "

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lo-shouldve-been-an-email · 7 months ago

Text

Why hello there.

Listen,I don’t have much to say about the newest LO episode so here’s an ares ranking to go along with the other ones.

Spoilers.

Percy Jackson:

6/10

Look,Ares is a really weird figure when it comes to how the media presents him.

Almost always they present him as this sexist frat boy when in mythology he is:

A reported protector of mistreated woman.

The patron god of the amazons and was worshipped to the point that their leader had 2 babies with him.

Scored the GODDESS PF LOVE AND BEAUTY and there is no way you cannot convince me she doesn’t have some pretty high standards(even though apparently you can convince most of the writers on this list)

And as much as I love Percy Jackson,it is not devoid of crimes.

In the first book,he helps Luke/Kronos steal Zeus’ master bolt and Hades’ helm of invisibility as to start a civil war within the gods.id say this is a pretty good portrayal overall.

…until we get to the second book.

This myth will be very important so long story short:a daughter of ares got r*** by a son of Poseidon so Ares,like any reasonable and bloodthirsty god of war,fucking killed him.

After this,he got put on trial for murder as if he wasn’t the literal god of bloody war,and all the ladies vouched for him so he got set free.

Let’s just say,Rick Riordan didn’t know of this myth.

In the second book,there’s a scene where Clarisse La Rue,a DAUGHTER of ares talks to him through a magic mirror.

There,he threatens her and says he should have sent one of his sons on the quest.and keep in mind she is his FAVORITE DAUGHTER.

So yeah.

I don’t really like this portrayal but he gets points for bringing Clarisse and (technically)Frank into this world since I like them both.also the fact that Percy could tell he had beef with him even without having any other memory.

Lore Olympus:

1/10

FUCK THIS GUY

Remember when I said that modern Ares was more often than not a sexist frat boy?we’ll add “predator” and “Reddit nice guy” to that list because RS can’t write.

If in Percy Jackson Aphrodite had terrible standards here said standards are so much worse.

He spends MONTHS trying to seduce a 19-YEAR-OLD and then tries to marry her without her consent.

Also,sir,YOU HAVE THE GODDESS OF LOVE AND BEAUTY FULLY AT YOUR DISPOSAL AND YOURE PICKING A GURL WHO DOESNT EVEN KNOW HIW TO USE A COMPUTER????

Great.this guy is a predator,Reddit nice guy,AND stupid.

I remember saying that the only character who could get a lowers rating than LO Persephone being LO hades and then I remembered this fuck existed.

Fuck him.

Hades:

10/10

Your know when you see something and then immediately want to wash your eyes with soap?this is my soap.

He is my third favorite Olympian in the game,coming third to Hermes and Artemis.

So here’s a few reasons why I like him:

Doom anything with impending doom and the increasing doom damage boon does absurd amounts of damage.

Curse of nausea is one of the best duos in the game.

He respects woman.(oh look they finally Aphrodite standards)

His quest is stupidly easy and he was the first Olympian who’s bond I maxed out.

I know this joke has been made so many times but.he really is a Chthonic simp.

He doesn’t get too pissed if you don’t pick him is trial of gods.hes just here for the bloodshed.

It may be just the fact that almost every other interpretation of ares is bad,but I really like him.

Also Aphrodite wearing his face paint in hades 2-

OSP:

7/10

He’s cool.

I really don’t have much else to add except the helmet stays on during sex.

Gods school:

5/10

Welp Back to the incels-

Him straight up telling Aphrodite that he can do whatever he wants because she won’t leave is just.why.

I don’t get why people go to this myth,turn it around,and act as if they’ve done a service by making Ares miserable when in the myths it was already a good ending.

What is with the obsession with making ares a toxic ex boyfriend when in the myths him and ‘dite were literally love and war.

Another issue I have with gods school is the fact they made Aphrodite a Karen Smith when in the myths shes a Regina George but that’s a problem for the Aphrodite ranking.

Also I just realized the Aphrodite Hephaestus ares myth is the og “I fell in love with a bad boy story”-

Epic:the musical:

8/10

I don’t have a physical picture of him but I already like him.

The only time he he appears is during a bit of an unfinished song but he does bring up some pretty good points,like the Scylla thing.

Also the fact Athena didn’t directly refute any of his points but instead persuaded him with the fact that the moment Ody gets home the suitors are going to be fucked is surprisingly great.

Also can I just say how absolutely hyped I am for god games?Aphrodite’s part fucking rocks and I’m excited for Apollo and Hephaestus.

Also here’s my ranking for epic Hermes since I wasn’t part of the fandom back then:

10/10

*insert dolphin laugh here*

#anti lore olympus #anti lo #lo critical #lore olympus critical #lo criticism #lore olympus #Lore Olympus ares #percy jackson #hades ares #overly sarcastic productions #hades #hades supergiant #supergiant hades #gods school #hades 2 #he hasn’t appeared yet but fuck it #he better #hades ii

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loggiepj · 2 years ago

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UNTITLED WANDA SHORT STORY

Part 9 | Part 10

Wanda: (moans) Fuck, Y/n—

You: Shit, you feel so good squeezing me like this.

Wanda throws her head back unto the pillows, back arching, as you thrust yourself deeper into her. Her walls hugged you tight — the enchanted strap that Wanda made you wear on your hips.

Wanda can see the desperation brewing inside of you as she pulls you into a hungry kiss, fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place. Your bodies press against each other with your hips drilling into hers. Her legs wrap around your back; one of the heels digs your lower back.

Wanda lets out a whimper when you hit a good spot inside her, making her pull away from the kiss. You both press your foreheads together, gasping and breathing heavily with sounds of pleasure as you stare at each other's eyes.

W: Why are you in a hurry?

Y: I only got five minutes left. Ten if we're lucky.

W: What— oh, fuck—

Before Wanda can ask why, you fasten your pace.

Wanda's nails dig into your back, breaking skin. The pace is relentless knowing any minute now, Stephen will come knocking on her door.

W: I love you, Y/n. Fuck, I love you.

Tears start to brim in the corner of your eyes as you nod back at her.

Y: I love you so much more, Wands. (Wanda's hand moves to squeeze your butt, pulling you much closer if that's even possible.) Fuck, you have no idea.

The Wanda writhing uncontrollably underneath you has no idea that you're not the Y/n she's married to in that universe. She has no idea that her Y/n, who was away for work that day, didn't just go home to have a quickie with her wife. She certainly didn't question earlier how you managed to get inside her lovely house when she remembered you forgot to bring your key when you get off to work in the morning.

Wanda screams in pleasure as she pulls you and hugs you against her. Your face buries into her neck. She shudders as she comes, moaning your name into the air. The moment makes you lose it.

Your hands grip on the sheets as you come, your eyes rolling to the back. You don't even question how everything feels so real, as if you're painting her walls with your own release, and how good it feels when her tight walls seem to milk you for more.

You grow obsessed with the idea of Wanda in other universes that you always find yourself volunteering to Stephen's missions when it involves travelling to one. Wong was initially against it once he found out. But eventually, he stopped meddling into your business.

Whenever you get the chance, however minimal, an hour the most, you start to savor each second with the version of Wanda who looks at you and loves you dearly. Luckily, Stephen hadn't looked for you yet when he had lost track of your sudden whereabouts. But most of the time, you got distracted with how amazing Wanda was at that universe you were visiting, that sometimes, Stephen would come barging into her door with a face you couldn't paint.

You know you’re living a lie and you can't go on living like this. Not when everytime you get back to your own universe, you and Wanda have become close friends. So close, it's starting to become unbearable not being able to kiss or touch her.

Your growing friendship with Wanda was what led to your breakup with Maria. Everyone had seen it coming, to be honest. It just took one of you to admit to the other that it wasn't working anymore. It just happened that it was Maria who ended it.

Wanda, on the other hand, is ecstatic the moment she finds out that you're single. And it isn't because she now knows what happens in the future — of you two getting married and having two kids— that she is spending too much time with you whenever you're around in the compound. Even when it's just as friends, she cannot help but feel the tension between the two of you.

There are even moments, however short, when you and Wanda would pause on talking and just stare at each other, eyes drifting towards lips, gaps closing without noticing. And those are the moments Wanda swears you two will finally kiss.

But of course, it doesn't happen.

Vision notices the tension too. How can he not? He asks Wanda one night if she has feelings for you.

But she only turns silent, for she doesn't even know herself.

She just knows that her heart beats like crazy when you're near her. She just knows that her stomach is filled with butterflies whenever you talk sweetly to her, unintentionally or not. She just knows that she now craves for your presence, even when it's just the two of you eating breakfast silently or watching the television together seated chairs apart.

She just knows that it's different when it comes to you. Good different.

Vision: Maybe . . . You’re already falling for her and you don't even know it.

What Vision said, breaking Wanda's trance, made her realize something.

It's true.

She's falling in love with you.

Taglist: @smromanoff @nightingalexx @dubleshcpi @marvelwomen-simp @casquinhaa @the-mute1 @samallen20062837392 @swiftie1-0-1 @pampeop @bxtrflyr @cherlenovix @eliii1sblog

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda angst #short prompt #maria hill x reader #enemies to lovers #elizabeth olsen

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lilysbookshelf987 · 10 months ago

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New camper: Percy Jackson x reader (daughter of apollo)

A/n: thank you so much for giving this a read! This is my first time writing for the PJO universe so let me know if you like it! Requests are open! No NSFW or Smut! Enjoy

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

"Good morning" Percy said tiredly, greeting his best friend Grover at the dining pavilion, taking a seat next to him.

"Morning" Grover replied, "hey did you see Annabeth on your way here? She's usually the first one here and I haven't seen her yet"

As if almost on cue she was walking towards the boys, an excited smirk painted across her face.

"Camp Half-Blood has a new camper!"

"What?!" replied Percy

"She showed up late last night, all alone. Chiron told me she had been hurt pretty badly but he took her into the infirmary and gave her some Ambrosia"

"She took it? So, she's definitely a half-blood?" Percy asked

"Yep! We should be meeting her later today" Annabeth was ecstatic, she loved new campers!

--time skip--

As the day went on there was still no sight of the new camper. Word had made its way around camp and people began to take their guesses as to who was her parent.

"I hope she's in our cabin!" A child of Aphrodite had said

"No! I bet she HAS to be in ours! Showing up without a Satyr by her side means she's a warrior"an Ares kid chimed

"As long as she's not in ours I dont care" a tired looking Hermes kid said.

It was almost dinner time when Chiron had found Percy, sparring with someone from the Ares cabin.

"Percy can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Yeah sure" he said, removing his helmet and recapping his sword.

"Im sure you've heard we've had a new camper join us."

"Yeah it's all over camp" he replied

"Ah yes. Well let's say she hasn't been thrilled to learn about her new family. Reminds me a lot of you when you first came here"

Percy thought back to his first few days at camp. He was confused, scared, angry, and very much overwhelmed.

"I was wondering if you could help ease her mind by speaking to her. You understand what she's feeling better than I can."

"And im not half horse" Percy smiled

"Yes there is that" Chiron chuckled

"Alright I want to meet her!" Percy agreed. He really did want to help, but he also knew how jealous Annabeth would be that he met her first. The two walked into the big house and there she was, staring down at her feet.

"Y/N, this is Percy, son of Poseidon. Percy this is Y/N. I'm sure you two will get long swimmingly" Chiron chuckled at his own joke, "I will give you two some privacy" with that, he left the room. Leaving the two teenagers alone.

An awkward silence filled the room, when finally Y/N broke the silence.

"Son of Poseidon, huh?" she asked

"That's me" he smiled, proud of the title he held.

"That's crazy, the gods don't exist!"

"They do exist. I know it all feels a bit insane at first but-"

"A bit?! My whole life i've had these things coming after me and I didn't understand why. I thought I was insane and seeing things, but apparently that's normal?! And my dad? The reason he's neglected me my whole life was because he was a god?! There's just no way"

"Hey, it's gonna be ok. I know how you feel. I felt like that when I first got here. All my life my dad wasn't someone I had thought about much because I had my mom, and thats all I needed. Then I find out that he's now the most important thing in my life? I had so many emotions, but if you just give this place a chance? I promise everything gets a lot less scary"

This seem to get to the girl. She started to tear up.

"Ok, i'll try." she whispered

"I'll show you around and it'll all be ok, I promise."

The two made their way around camp, Y/N was mostly silent. "The sun is so warm here, it's not like that where I'm from"

"Everything is a little bit stronger here."

"I can tell" she smiled

"So, do you have any idea who your dad might be?" Percy asked, careful not to poke at the sensitive subject.

"I think but I'm not sure. My mom used to talk about Apollo, a way she never did about other Gods"

"Ok then...then we have to find a way for him to see you! If he see's you, he'll claim you!"

"Yeah but how?"

"Gods dont claim you because they feel like it, you have to work for it" Annabeth said, inviting herself to the conversation.

"Y/N this is Annabeth, daughter of Athena"

"Hey" Y/n said

"Percy have you taken her to the archery field? Apollo kids thrive there"

"No I didn't"

"Seaweed brain c'mon!" Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Lets go" she led the two there and put a bow and arrow in Y/N's hands. The girl had fired it easily and hit the bullseye.

"Beginners luck?" y/n asked

"Go again" Chiron said, but before she could something came flying down at her, she shot it down easily.

"That could've killed us" Percy said, mouth agape, "and you shot it down with ease!" he said

"Look!" One of the campers said

Y/N was becoming engulfed in a bright light and a sun appeared over her head. She was now an official resident of cabin 7

#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth pjo #apollo #greek gods #pjo x reader

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gingermintpepper · 2 months ago

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Day 1: Apollo

Interpretation notes and trivia under the cut!

His interpretation for my work is based very much around the concept of his manifestation as the Radiant God of the String. Because of this, quite like Hecate, he’s triple-fold and occupies three major spaces; the string of Fate and therefore prophecy, the bowstring and therefore distance and destruction and the lyrestring and therefore music and order. He’s a somewhat melancholy figure all things considered - Fate and following Fate’s tennants is something that he struggled a lot with as a child and even now as a more mature deity, the only solution he’s truly found is to take things one day at a time. Very diligent and fastidious, he’s a hard worker and tends to put his everything into completing any task set before him which also tends to work to his disadvantage since he’s prone to becoming tunnel-visioned until he’s finished what he said he would finish. His family orchestrated his winter breaks because he had the nasty habit of working himself sick when he was still very young.

Apollo is generally represented by circles in my work - priests of Apollo will be marked with at least three circles on their face and usually wear triangular jewellry (typically earrings or necklace charms) to reflect the triple-nature of their god. His favoured colour is a rich, deep blue and while he typically wears elaborate eye paint, he rarely uses face powders. Wears gem-toned blues for his lips unless in mourning where he will leave himself unadorned and unpainted out of respect.

Some quick trivia:

Was born identical to Artemis even though they were born (years) apart. Had brown hair, wolf’s ears and fangs and horns when he was a child but never manifested those features again after his penance for slaying Python. If he’s very stressed or angry, sometimes his fangs will show. The brown of his hair grew out to blond naturally as he developed and matured as a god.

Proficient in all instruments but has always especially preferred stringed instruments. Truly unmatched with a kithara but only uses it for special occasions and official meetings. Generally prefers his lyre for every day usage

Really good at sewing and braiding strings together due to the exercises he had to do while under the tutelage of the Moirai sisters. Can’t weave since Athena banned him from touching a loom but he does like watching her spin. The one time she caught him trying to replicate her patterns with a needle and thread, she complained to Zeus that he had broken his oath. He teases her about that even now.

Was the last of the Twelve to learn how to read and write because he hates letter systems and finds it too arbitrary. Prior to the collaboration that resulted in written letter systems, everyone was perfectly fine with remembering the important stuff and encoding the rest in artistic format such as tapestries, pottery, furniture and jewellry. Apollo himself has a truly formidable memory since he’s been composing and immortalising the events and histories of the world in song since he was very young. He finds written books very dull but Clio’s very insistent about written histories being important and convenient so reluctantly, he’s given permission for his songs and poems to be -gags- transcribed and written down.

Is only called Apollo by his parents, Artemis and Dionysus. Hermes rarely calls him by name in general and the others, including other siblings like Ares and Athena, have always called him Phoebus. Interestingly, Zeus usually calls him Phoebus but will call him Apollo when they are alone or when he’s being especially serious. Apollo is completely comfortable with either name but he does see Phoebus as a bit more formal than Apollo. (Despite his best efforts, both Calliope and Clio also still stubbornly call him Phoebus though he’s fairly sure it’s mostly because they know it bothers him.)

#ginger rambles #pursuing daybreak posting #apollo #Despite how sparkly the doodle of him is he's actually a pretty serious guy LMAO #Apollo's a lot of fun tbh - he's surprisingly set in his ways and can be very traditional which always catches the younger gods off guard #Hermes is the one who decided to invent a written system because he was completely fed up with having to sing elaborate messages #Apollo's memory is also such that he can recall/replicate things after seeing how it's done but he has to physically do the action #to properly remember it. He sees writing as unnatural and a degree of separation away from #the spontaneity and beauty of storytelling poetry and music so he was really upset about being forced to adapt to it #If I had to describe his personality in one word it would be 'illusive'#Apollo is something different to everyone in his life and while they're all equally genuine they're also equally confusing #He's not even the same type of father to his sons - each of his children have a wildly different experience with him as their dad #Super fun I enjoyed doing this next up is Mr Princey prince himself

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nittusidhe · 3 months ago

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@adragonsfriend, @looseleafteeaves, and I were talking about Amavikka theater a while back and I thought I might share some of the headcannons here.

We know Amavikka theater traditions exist because Fialleril has mentioned them in fics before, and one idea bounced around is that many of the plays are retelling a of folk stories and include a lot of improve, easy to be thrown together and taken down and often preformed during sandstorms when Depur can’t walk in.

characters are differentiated by a mix of clothes, masks, and face paint. With the gods wearing complicated masks, and the prophets using face paints to distinguish who they are. Costumes range from simple to increadibly complex, though the later is more common among freed communities or enslaved populaces that have less direct oversight and are watched less closely. We ended up coming up with some variants of the more complex designs because it’s easier to scale down than up

Ar-Amu

always represented with a three eyed mask, her outfits sometimes include a water jar held like an infant and is often dressed in blue greans and blacks Leia The most variable as she's often depicted as the local krayt variant. More complex costumes include articulated "tail" carved out of wood that clacks when it's moved. Wood or bone is also used on the joints to make the clacking sound as the actor moves to replicate the sound of claws Lukka

A blank mask, with layers of fabric strips making up the outfit in shades of orange, red, white, and yellow. So that when the actor spins the fabric fans out creating a "storm"

Ekkreth

Many of the more complex ekkreth costumes are two fold, including an outer layer of their "disguise" that is held on with ties. Whenever ekkreth reveals themselves the ties are undone for a quick change as the actor "shapeshifts" Ekkreths mask is birdlike, and sometimes includes false fabric "hair" in red or black though not always

Some wonderful concept art by @two-turtleducks

#fialleril's tatooine slave culture #star wars #amavikka #tatooine slave culture #Cheliik'ta chats

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hrts4hanniehae · 10 months ago

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clutch || nine

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

a/n: sorry this is short.... i rewrote this 3 times and i keep forgetting what i wrote. fml. genuinely omfg.

warnings: fat-shaming, insults, violence

if you thought that this was the end of Chae-young's antics... you were very wrong.

"wonwoo-oppa~" x100

wonwoo had never been this annoyed in his life. during the whole event, he stuck by yn's side the whole time but chae-young wouldn't stop trying to approach him. finally...

"please leave me alone."

"sorry? wonwoo-oppa please speak up!"

"I said, leave me alone. please! it's very irritating to have you follow yn and i everywhere! leave us alone please!"

chae-young lost it.

"WHY HER? WHY YN? SHE ISN'T EVEN THAT PRETTY! SHE ONLY LOOKS DECENT NOW BECAUSE OF HER MAKEUP!"

heads turned towards them as chae-young's husband tried to pull her away.

"I have the face of a model. and i am one. why is it her? yn is fat and ugly! she was overweight at one point you know? do you really want to be with a slut like her?"

"oh so i'm a slut?" it was wonwoo's turn to hold yn back. "what about you huh? trying to seduce my boyfriend while you have a HUSBAND?"

"how else did you get people to buy your ugly paintings and "art"? i wouldn't be caught dead with those crappy paintings in my house!"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU FAKE BITCH-"

yn broke free of wonwoo's grasp and slapped chae-young in the face. (much to the delight of a lot of her relatives)

"HOW DARE YOU!" chae-young of course retaliated and scratched yn across the face with her nails, drawing blood in lines across her face. she then used her heel to stomp at yn's arms.

"CHAE-YOUNG! THAT'S ENOUGH!" her husband's sudden outburst shocked everyone. "please. stop embarrassing yourself. stop embarrassing me. i think i've had enough. every day you put people around you down because you want to look better. you abuse your position as my wife and you treat me like shit. i think... i think i've had enough. you're ungrateful to everything and just spoiled."

"this isn't about you, Jaeho. this is about m-"

"it's never not about you. let's get a divorce. maybe then you'll get the attention you yearn for."

after that, yn's parents and Chae-young left, begging Jaeho to reconsider. Soon after, the rest of the family began to wrap up the event, sending congratulations to yn and wonwoo.

"does it still hurt?"

"not much... i'm sorry about her."

"don't apologise. it isn't your fault."

"sorry for dragging you there with me. i should have just went alone."

"it's okay. stop saying sorry."

dino burst into yn's room.

"yn... there was a parcel for you. but..."

"but?"

"there was blood leaking out from it. so i opened it..."

"what was it?"

"someone sent you a box full of dead rats. there was a note."

"what? what did it say?"

"I know you're here. yn ln. you're next."

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees @hamji-hae @hyuckxtagram

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