#World Show Place Pavilion

[sushirrrry]

pulse. a harry styles one-shot; 12k words. the one where harry goes with his best friend, jack, and jack's little sister, charli to a music festival. CW: language, explicit sexual content (fingering, squirting, intercourse), explicit drug use

“And that’s when I knew I wanted to save the world, one fire at a time.”

The looks from the girls in front of them were flourished with admiration, maybe a bit of chaos and something that was a bit more addictive than that. But Jack was pushing his shoulder into Harry as they stood there, trying his best to play the wingman that Harry had desperately tried to dismiss the entire situation.

Harry held the bottle between his fingers, lifting it to take a sip as the morning sun rounded out into the cloudless sky. The tension in his back was killing him, his eyes were a bit heavy at the way that he tossed and turned all night from laying on the ground.

“But my guy here,” Jack took his hand on Harry’s shoulder to bring his attention back, “This guy saves more than just lives— he’s preserving the art in the minds of children.”

Jack was laying it on heavy, building up every detail of Harry’s life to mean much more than it was. Harry being a primary school music teacher wasn’t anything that was new and exciting in the real world. Jack made it sound much, much more delicate, and necessary than it was.

The two girl’s faces were astonished by the fact, one staring at Harry until he caught her eye. He smiled sheepishly at the fact, nodding a few times to confirm with what Jack had been saying before he turned his head to notice someone coming from one of the tents in their small camp.

Her hair was long and untouched, small braids still placed in her hair as she placed sunglasses over her eyes. The night before was a bit too rough on them; Harry was aware that the second day usually felt worse than the first. He couldn’t seem to turn his head away as he watched her diligently try to unscrew the top of her water bottle, almost as if her muscles had turned to mush.

Harry took it upon himself to move towards her, taking himself out of the conversation before she saw him coming.

“Need some help with that?” He offered. His own hand holding a beer as Charli held out her bottle towards him with a small grunt.

“I don’t know how you’re drinking that without gagging.” Her voice was rough, hoarse, as she cleared her throat.

Charli took a seat under the small pavilion that their group had set up; her seat now in a foldable chair as she slinked into it. The large t-shirt covering her chest and her pajama shorts that resembled boxers were nicely matched with the tall, rain boots that she had been wearing around their small camp as the dust and dirt seemed to be kicked up.

Harry took the water bottle from her hand, holding his beer against his chest as he multitasked to unscrew the top lid.

“I didn’t take any shots of lemonade vodka, and I drank a bunch of water before bed. That might have helped a bit.” Harry smiled at her; his eyes not being able to relay the affection that they may have had behind the dark sunglasses on his face. The backwards hat sat on head while the bandana around his neck helped to shield the morning sun.

He didn’t want to stare; he knew that his sunglasses had been blocking the obvious, though.

“You look good for someone who’s probably one sip of water shy of dying, I have to say.” Harry shrugged, watching as she took a few sips from the bottle he had opened for her. The look on her face showed a bit of thankfulness of him obviously giving her some pity.

“I don’t think that sleeping in tents is necessarily my thing,” Charli shook her head, knowingly hating camping to an obvious degree, but wanting to find herself in these experiences that pushed her boundaries.

That was the whole reason that she was here in the first place. Charli was always the little sister that wanted to keep up; she wanted to do everything that Jack did, and she knew that she could if he would just let her participate. When this summer festival came around, Charli asked her friend Rena to book a ticket to come with her—knowing that Jack and Harry would say no to it.

Harry and Jack went to festivals all year—they frequented this one in Spain every year and had become quite close with a bunch of other people who had traveled in for it. But this time, Charli wanted to just insert herself into the situation so neither of them could deny her entry, or her company.

Jack and Charli were close, but that did not mean that he wanted to watch her dance around at a festival and get herself into trouble. Neither did Harry, really.

But something had changed a bit. Harry hadn’t seen Charli in a year or so. He hadn’t spoken to her or hung out with her enough to notice the changes in her personality, her being, her looks. She was older now; she wasn’t the little teenage sister that tried to slip into the car every time they would head to the mall or to grab a bite to eat.

She was always beautiful, there was no denying that. But Harry found himself blushing at her remarks, stopping himself from staring at the way clothes hung off her body, and tried to deny himself from watching as she danced with her friend while trying to entertain the other men standing behind them.

Charli had always just been Jack’s little sister.

Sometime between the lines, it had taken a turn, though. Harry had looked at Charli one day and noticed that her eyes struck a match, his heart started to race a bit faster than usual, his eyes stared to wander, his palms became a bit sweatier than normal.

Instead, he tried his best to remain subtle—not wanting to say anything different, but just allowing the weekend to go along.

After the awkward teenage years when they would go on family holiday’s, Harry would always think Charli was quite funny—she was witty and dry with her humor, but it always intrigued him to some degree. And she had always been very good at Pictionary, which Harry found hilarious.

Now, it was different. Now, Harry found himself staring longer, harder. But it must’ve just been the heat, he thought.

“You look like shit,” Jack had mentioned, coming from behind Harry as he looked at his little sister, “Festival already got the best of you lot already, hm?”

When Charli had approached Jack to wanting to go to this festival in Spain, Jack and Harry had already made plans with their friends to go. Jack, being her older brother, had shown some apprehension considering he knew that Charli and Rena had never done anything like this before. They were freshly in university, a few years younger than Harry and Jack.

“Don’t be fucking annoying,” Charli said to Jack, rubbing her forehead, “We’re just hungover—it’s nothing unusual and we aren’t used to the bit of heat all the time. We’ll be okay.”

Harry’s lip turned up on the side, but his attention as brought back to Jack who hit him on the chest.

“What was that for?” Harry asked, a bit taken back by the action as he rubbed the site where he had been hit.

“Mate, you totally walked away from those two birds, left me in the dust,” Jack turned his head to try and locate them, craning his neck, “The blonde was totally into you. They were having a kickback before heading back into the grounds tonight.”

Harry focused on the beer in his hands, finishing the first one of the days before he threw it over to the small pile of garbage that they had started to collect.

“Dunno—not super interested,” Harry shrugged, but Jack gave him a strong look of disapproval.

“Not interested? In what? You not interested?” The confusion was taking over him as the three of them sat in the small, confined area. Harry poked his tongue into his cheek before he tried to think of how to get Jack to stop talking.

He didn’t care that Charli would hear how Jack talked about him—surely, she could figure out his habits on her own, but he didn’t necessarily want them repeated. Of course they had had fun at festivals in the past. But there was a small amount of embarrassment that sat on his chest as he felt the judgement pour off from Charli’s facial expression.

“It’s like, a girl’s rite of passage to hook up with you at a festival once.” Jack chuckled, grabbing his own beer from the fridge before popping open the cap, looking over at Charli. “Better keep Rena away from him tonight or he may go mad with the wandering hands.”

Charli smirked at the comment, “I’m not keeping anyone away from anyone else. Maybe she wants someone’s wandering hands.”

Jack chuckled at the comment, Harry rolled his eyes with the smile steady on his face.

The three of them sat around, making themselves a few sandwiches for breakfast—Harry brought bagels for them to share. They sat in a circle, eating and talking about the day ahead of them. The heat hadn’t really started to become an issue; it was quite nice in the shade unless you were in the direct sunlight.

The day took them into night—getting ready in their tents, while simultaneously letting the party get started. Jack and Charli were significantly more into drinking than Harry was; he kept a steady buzz with the beers that he had brought, but he let general buzz of the alcohol mixed perfectly with the contentment of the weed, too.

Jack had always made fun of Harry in the best way because he always knew how to have the best time, making sure that everyone else was having the best time around him. It was a rare kind of person who knew his own limits but was able to let the people surrounding him in on the most significant adventure of a lifetime.

Harry didn’t add much to what he was wearing except a bandana around his neck to keep the dust low. His sunglasses hung from his shirt, the backwards hat shieled his neck from the hot afternoon sun. The Adidas sneakers were dusty and worn, his shorts and t-shirt were moderately hot from the dark colors that absorbed the heat.

But it was when Charli and Rena came out of their tent that his eyes tried their best to look away—failing miserably, he knew.

Her perfectly sun-kissed skin with patches of redness that he just knew would burn to the touch with spots of freckles that accompanied, the dark curls that cascaded down her back with micro-braids that were misplaced, her top was practically irrelevant as it hung from her shoulders and tied around her back with just a simple string.

It was all that it took for him not to combust. He tried to remind himself: it’s Charli. Something about that sentiment stopped working like it had before.

The group was a bit larger now; there were many more people around to involve and take his attention. He watched as Charli and Rena had found the attention that both had been looking for. A few different guys who looked more their age had started to make their way around them. Charli and Rena took a few shots, their energy had increased drastically with a mid-day nap and some blush to help elevate themselves.

When they started to move their way towards the stages and grounds, Harry had packed himself what he needed in his pockets—a few joints, a baggie with other worldly possibilities, and a lighter. Everything he could have needed.

The bass pounded relentlessly, a constant thrum that seemed to reverberate in Harry’s chest, matching the wild, erratic beat of his heart. The music festival was a sensory overload—lights that dazzled, bodies that pressed in from all sides, and a heady mix of sweat, alcohol, and something else altogether more intoxicating the longer he stood and watched. It was almost as if he had been placed into another world; his brain would have convinced him, otherwise.

Charli.

She moved like a force of nature through the crowd, her every step drawing his gaze, every laugh tightening the coil of desire in his chest.

She was supposed to be off-limits, a hard line he’d promised himself never to cross. But tonight, with the flashing lights painting her skin in shades of electric blue and purple from the neon lights that threatened him with desire, Harry could barely remember why.

It wasn’t just the way she looked, although that was enough to drive any man to the edge. Her outfit—a slinky, black top paired with high-waisted micro-shorts—revealed just enough to set his imagination on fire yet left enough to keep him burning. It was the way she moved, all easy confidence, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on him, and maybe she did. The sway of her hips, the way her curls bounced with each step.

It was all fun and games until her eyes sought him out in the crowd—it all added to the tightrope tension between them that he hadn’t been sure was there before.

He shouldn’t be here, standing this close to her, watching her with hungry eyes while pretending that he didn’t want to touch her, taste her. But here he was, and there she was, her presence overwhelming every shred of common sense he had left.

She caught him staring—again—and shot him a look over her shoulder that made his pulse skip. Harry wasn’t sure that she had been looking at him, either. He wasn’t sure if he was misreading the signs; maybe she was just looking past him.

But that smile, playful and knowing, was his undoing. It was like she could see right through him, could tell that he was a hairsbreadth away from losing all control that he had. And maybe she liked it, liked knowing she had him wrapped around her little finger.

When she slipped through the crowd, it was like slow-motion. She was turning her head just enough to signal him to follow, and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest bit. It was almost an innate reaction to her; she walked, he followed. His feet moved of their own accord, pushing past bodies until he was right behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. She led him away from the main stage to a more secluded spot where the music was a distant pulse, and the crowd thinned out. The darkness here was thicker, the lights softer, casting long shadows.

Charli stopped abruptly, turning to face him, and he nearly collided with her. The sudden proximity knocked the breath out of him. Her chest brushed against his as she looked up at him through her lashes, eyes dark and inviting.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she teased, her voice soft but laced with something that made his blood run hot. “Something on your mind?”

“More than a few things,” Harry replied, his voice rough, strained. Her scent was everywhere, a mix of something sweet and sharp, mingling with the night air, making it hard to think about anything other than how close she was. He could reach out, just a little, and—

No. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But then she tilted her head, and that damned smile returned, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “Like what?” she asked, her tone daring him to say it, to cross that line they both knew was there.

He clenched his fists, shoving them deep into his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. Instead, he pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier, holding it between them as a distraction, a lifeline.

“Like this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Want some?”

Charli’s eyes flicked down to the joint, then back up to him, and the look in them was nothing short of wicked.

 “Sure,” she murmured, stepping even closer, until there was no space left between them. Her fingers brushed against his as she took the joint from his hand, the contact sending a jolt of electricity straight through him.

He watched, mesmerized, as she brought it to her lips. Her eyes glanced up at him with few blinks before Harry’s hand cuffed around the spliff to light it as it sat between her lips.

The motion was slow, deliberate, and his gaze was locked on her mouth, on the way her lips wrapped around the end of the joint, the way she inhaled deeply, then exhaled a plume of smoke that curled in the cool night air. Her eyes never left his, and there was something in them, something hot and dangerous, that made his pulse quicken.

When she passed the joint back to him, their fingers lingered, the touch just a little too long to be accidental. Harry took it, barely feeling it between his fingers, all his senses focused on the heat of her body so close to his. He took a drag, more out of necessity than desire, needing something to calm the riot of emotions inside him. But it didn’t help. If anything, it made the world spin faster, the edges of his control fraying with each second that passed.

“Having a good time so far?” Harry asked her, watching as she waited for him to pass it back to her. When he did, she took it gratefully and took another puff herself.

“Definitely. I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I think. So much going on, the music just—you can feel it in your bones. You can really—yeah, I don’t know, I just feel really, really good.” Her voice was sharp, but it had a bit of slurring to it. He knew that the dehydration and overall adrenaline would send her into overdrive if she kept up the pace of her habits. He took the joint away from her this time, wanting to keep her from overdoing it.

It was obvious—the way that she moved closer to him when he would take another step back. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but he had watched her take only a few drinks before getting here tonight. It was obvious that they were getting high on something stronger than any of the substances combined.

Harry cleared his throat, letting their eyes linger on one another for a long moment—much longer than he had anticipated, but when her lips parted for a moment, he shifted on his feet.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, not entirely sure if he was talking about the joint or the way they were practically pressed up against each other, the space between them crackling with unspoken tension.

Charli took a step closer, closing whatever distance was left between them. Her body was almost flush against his now, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned in. “Doing what?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so innocent, and yet so full of intent that it made his head swim.

“You know this is just some infatuated fantasy shit, right?” Harry’s voice was low, “Your signals—your messages. You don’t want to mess around with me, Char.”

He went to place the joint between her lips again; his fingers lingered at her lips as she gratefully took the end. The color of her lips was the softest baby pink he had ever seen, a color so intimidating and intriguing.

“I think you’re writing me off because you think you know me,” Charli shook her head as she held the joint between her fingers, blowing out the smoke, “But I think you’re a bit scared. And I’m very intrigued. It’s my first festival, after all.”

Harry scoffed, “Not scared at all, love.”

Charli bit her lip, knowing the implications of the way that his eyes would gravitate towards where her teeth held her lip. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip softly, watching him stare at every single tiny movement that she could benefit from his view.

“So full of shit,” She half-whispered, shaking her head, “Can’t keep your eyes off of me, you really think you could keep your hands off if you got the opportunity?”

Harry’s eyes raised at her words, his tongue pushing into his cheek as he lifted his hand to take a large draw of the spliff between his fingers. The smile on his face was significant as he practically chuckled at her words.

“You think I’m scared to put my hands on you?” Harry shook his head, feeling the pity as he stepped close to her. The small space that they had created here in the back of the lot had become theirs as he stared into her eyes. “I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—me and you. That’s why it’s not happening.”

Charli’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she listened to the words he spoke, practically feeling the overwhelming feeling on her skin just at his words. She tried to keep herself together, but he saw right through it.

It was practically a growl that he let out, hoping that she would back off, “I’d fucking wreck you, Char.”

As quick as he spoke, she took a step forward, “Well, then fucking wreck me.”

Her lips brushed his jaw, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine. Harry’s hand tightened around the joint, the other clenching at his side as he fought to keep control, to not give in to the desire roaring inside him. He stuck his hand in the front of his pocket as he felt his cock twitch just at the hot breath of her so close.

There were a million words in his brain, but they were all nonsense.

“Charli,” he breathed, her name a rough exhale, a plea. He knew he should push her away, should step back, but he couldn’t. His hand moved on its own, slipping around her waist, pulling her closer. “We can’t—”

“Why not?” she challenged, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath hot and teasing. Her hands moved to his shoulders as she pulled herself against, letting the smell of him infatuate every part of her being. “Please, please, please.”

Her words were a siren’s call, a temptation way too sweet to resist. His resolve, already shaky, crumbled to dust. His grip on her waist tightened, and she responded by pressing even closer, her body fitting perfectly against his.

His mouth hovered over hers, the world narrowing to just the two of them, to the feel of her, the taste of her on the air.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game with me.” He whispered, his voice a hoarse rasp, heavy with the desire he could no longer hide. The sound of the music in the background was just enough to heighten their senses as he practically breathed a moan into her own.

Charli smiled, that same knowing smile, and his heart skipped a beat. Her lips brushing his without another word, the touch so light it was almost a tease, a promise of what could be if he just let go.

The last thread of restraint snapped. Harry’s hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her curls as he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was fire and desperation, a release of all the tension that had been building between them for so long.

If she wanted to be wrecked, so be it.

Charli responded in a way that surprised him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. She tasted like smoke and something sweeter, something that made him dizzier than he had felt in a while. The thump of the bass had disintegrated into a memory, the sounds of the stranger around them had begun to dismiss, the only thing that mattered was the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her soft moan against his lips as he devoured his only saving grace.

He kissed her harder, deeper, pouring everything he’d been holding back into that one searing kiss. Her hands roamed over his back, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt, sending a thrill through him. He wanted more, needed more, and the way she clung to him told him she felt the same.

But then, just as he was about to lose himself completely in her, a shout rang out from somewhere behind them, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. The sound shattered the moment, and they broke apart, breathless, their hearts pounding in unison as Harry practically pushed her away from him.

“Charli!”

Rena’s voice had come from behind Harry, neither of them laying an eye on her until they had moved apart, and Harry’s back turned towards her. They hadn’t known how much she had seen, but it seemed like her cognizance had been long gone as she stumbled her way over to her friend.

“Hi, Harry,” Rena had seemed to forget Charli was there for a moment as she gave Harry attention first, her hand making its way to his bicep as she tried to steady herself. She moved her attention back to Charli, “I met someone who can hook us up, but I don’t know—like how much are you willing to pay? And like, he seems nice.”

Harry’s attention moved back to the conversation before his eyes narrowed gently at their predicament. He bit his lip just at the way that it didn’t sit right with him.

“I mean, a good amount, I guess. Nothing crazy. What’s he have?” Charli asked, almost like she had forgotten what had happened moments ago.

“He didn’t really say—I don’t think he’s given specifics, but I think we just want to tell him what we want to feel, and he can give it out.”

Harry shook his head, as he leaned down between them. “I know it’s your first time doing shit like this, but don’t fucking buy drugs from a random dude at a festival. That’s a way to get you offed. Unless he can prove his inventory, just don’t waste your time. Stick with the psilocybin’s and X.”

Rena and Charli looked back at him, before he shrugged.

“We have a hundred in cash,” She pressed, “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not just sitting on weed and beer, Harry. You and Jack go to festivals all the time—I’m not an idiot. Help us get something.”

Harry took a sip of the bottle, humming to himself before he shook his head at the thought. Turning to face her, he noticed the depth of her blue eyes that captured his breath for a moment.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to help my friend’s little sister roll like that,” He shook his head, “Especially if something happens to you. Not taking that chance.”

The words of implication felt odd as he spoke to them, the truth feeling a bit overwhelming before he watched Charli bite her lip and lift her eyes to him.

“Don’t let anything happen to me, then,” She bit her lip again, as if knowing that was the game to be played. Rena watched the interaction, but it wasn’t clear if she was taking anything into memory, “Do it with us, if you’re so worried about us.”

Rena rolled her eyes at the interaction, “C’mon, Char. He’s not going to help. I’m going to go ask for more details, I’ll meet you back here, yeah?”

Charli bit her lip as she crossed her arm; she nodded a few times as she watched her friend move back towards another guy that was behind Harry—one of the ones that they had talked to earlier. There was a group of a few guys and girls that seemed to be the same age, and possibly the same curiosity as them with these types of experiences.

She turned back to Harry, a bit disappointed by his lack of help and coddling of her.

“I’m definitely not doing it with you—that’s dangerous if you’ve never tripped before,” He told her firmly, giving her an answer she may have been looking for. Biting the inside of his cheek, he decided to question her a bit more, “But how do you want to feel?”

Charli took a moment to think, crossing her arms as she shrugged, almost like she didn’t know how to respond to his request. She wasn’t prepared for him to answer her that way; there was so much that she didn’t know, but she didn’t want him to read from her, in hopes that he may breakdown and help her out.

“I want to feel light—I want to feel careless and out of body. I want to feel a heavenly touch, almost,” She tried to think, “A pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like, bringing me to tears type of euphoria.”

It was almost like she had described exactly what he had wanted to do for her for years, but her innocent face hadn’t caught onto it yet. His smirk wasn’t hidden as he turned away from her, pulling the bottle to his lips as he shook his head with a blush on his cheeks.

“Well, shit, Char,” He answered with a bit of shyness, “You don’t need drugs for that, you know.”

Her recognition had caught on, breathing out of her nose just a bit before she covered her face with her hand.

“That’s what everyone seems to say, but I guess I’m not having the same type of experiences they are.”

Harry bit hard on the inside of his cheek, practically drawing blood as he looked down at the ground. A race of thoughts entered through his brain, pacing back and forth at the thought of how much he couldn’t stand to be next to her now—he couldn’t think now if he wanted to. He hummed again, in recognition of her statement before he ran his thumb over his lip to try to keep himself busy for a moment.

“I’ll help you out, but only under one condition,” He told her; moving to face her, even though he knew that was not a clever idea. He knew as soon as he turned to look at her that he wanted to look away.

She nodded in agreement; he lifted his eyes from her lips.

“You can’t leave my sight,” He nodded, “Understand?”

Charli nodded again, almost like she was in a trance to nod and do whatever he said. “Uh-huh.”

His heart skipped a beat as he felt the sensational pulse through his blood, down into his stomach and all extremities before he let a soft, troubling few words leave through his lips.

“Good girl. Let’s go back to camp, then. I may have something for you both.”

Charli felt a pang in her chest at the way that his words were reactive to her; each detail struggling to make sense within her as they stood together for a moment before he nodded his head for her to follow him back. The walk was only ten or so minutes. It gave Charli a few moments to grasp the sobriety a bit; it was what Harry had expected before they made their way back to the tent area that still had quite a few people around.

That was the culture; that was the essence of it all. The darkness had small bits of light around to maneuver their respective campsites, laughter and partying continued far into the evening. It was only around midnight now before Harry had reached his tent. He opened the zipper, pressing into the space that he had been sharing with Jack before he invited Charli inside.

There was a lantern inside that he flicked on before he found a seat on the small mattress pad, he had laid down, but knew didn’t make too much of a difference.

“I’m only giving them to you, by the way,” Harry told her before searching through a backpack he had stored behind his pillow. “I can’t keep track of both of you. She’s also much more drunk than you, which is dangerous.”

Charli sat on Jack’s side of the tent before she watched Harry pull out a small saran-wrapped baggie that held a spoonful or so of white powder that was tied together; Charli eyed him for a moment before he dug to the bottom of his backpack before he shrugged and went back to the small bag and another bag nestled in his shorts pocket.

“This is what I’ve got—looks like a little snow, some tabs. Kind of mixed together, but that’s what I’ve got.”

Maybe it was showing the innocence in her, but Charli felt a range of curiosity mixed with nerves as she looked at what Harry was offering. His eyes searched her face as she cleared her throat, reaching for the small bag.

“Do you—I mean, you know how much to take? I just—I mean, I just want to try. But I don’t… you know more than I do.” She trailed off, which led Harry to smiling at her for a moment. He crawled over to where she sat, sitting next to her then on the small blanket and mattress pad.

“This is going to make everything bright—you’ll get the smallest dose, just enough for it to be good. It’s only good every so often, doing this stuff everyday wears off the pure adrenaline which is really the good part about it. Taking a bump makes everything better, it’s why it’s so addicting.”

Charli held the baggie, using her fingers to unwrap it before she looked back at him. “Give me a bump, then.”

In the most oddly intimate manner that he could think, he felt the tension and significant rush bend through his veins as he watched the way that her eyes followed his hands before he was able to add a bit of the chalky white powder the end of his pinky that was coated in a blue nail polish.

Harry extended his hand towards her, his pinky finger gently poised near her lips.

“Just breathe it in. You’re safe.”

She scoffed with a hint of a laugh, “I thought I was playing a dangerous game.”

Harry’s eyes felt heavy as he tried to ignore her flirtation. “Smartass.”

The proximity of his hand, with its subtle warmth, seemed to magnify the anticipation between them. Charli leaned in, her breath mingling with his, her lips brushing lightly against his finger as she inhaled the bump of coke from his fingers and feeling the effect almost immediately.

The burn, the tingle, the numbness that was in her nasal passage drove her head to loll back for a moment.

As she took in the powder, her eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, and then slowly opened, revealing a glimmer of surprise and pleasure. The change in her expression was subtle but unmistakable; a softening of her features, a slight arching of her brows as if discovering a new dimension of sensation.

Harry watched her intently, his gaze never wavering away from her as she studied the way that she discovered pleasure. He could see the moment the effects began to take hold—a delicate flush spreading across her cheeks, a slow, satisfied smile curving her lips. Her eyes, once wide with anticipation, now seemed to shimmer with a new, heightened awareness after several moments of silence.

“How does it feel?” he asked softly, his voice a tender caress as he leaned in closer, the space between them shrinking.

Charli’s lips parted in a slow, blissful exhale.

“It’s… like everything’s just glowing now,” she said, her voice carrying a dreamy, almost hushed quality. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against his, and he could feel the gentle tremor of her touch, a tactile confirmation of the high she was starting to experience for the first time. “You’re really going to let me at this alone?”

Harry swallowed harshly, letting his lips part as he thought about all the reasons he shouldn’t join in her fun. But as he watched her pupils dilate, he blinked a few times to remember the way that the blue sapphires disappeared just like that in front of him.

Charli shut her eyes softly as she hummed before moving to lay on the space that held her brother’s blanket. She laid down on her back, Harry’s eyes gravitating towards the pull of her tits before they settled a bit more upwards. He leaned his arms against his legs as she sat on the ground and watched her start to feel the threat of the pleasure eat away at her.

“We should get back out there, hm?” Harry piped up, his words almost barely heard before her watched her head move up from the lolled position, opening her eyes. “You have to find Rena.”

There was a moment of silence before she sat up on her elbows, her eyes gazing at him heavily before she let her fingers draw over a part of her stomach that were visible from the shirt’s complete openness. Harry’s eyes were focused in—it had been a trap all along, he noticed as he watched her smile with complete satisfaction.

“Should we?” She questioned, “I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to leave your sight,” She paused for a moment, sitting up completely. Her body practically touching his as she let her hand move to dance along the tattoo on his skin. “And I’m all yours now.”

Harry shut his eyes as he moved his head to the other side; trying to take in any breath that didn’t have her scent lingering within it—but that was merely impossible at this point. He shifted his hips as he sat, trying his best to overcome the initial feeling of this infatuation with her. It had never been this way before.

“Fucking tease.” He swallowed heavily as he licked over his lips.

There was a noise that Harry heard, a whimper of sorts when he stayed put. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but he felt her presence heavier the longer that he sat.

“Just once? Please?” Her voice a mere whisper, but a fixture in his memory now.

“No, Charli—that’s taking advantage of you.” Harry tried once again; he couldn’t physically move, but he just had to keep saying no, no, no. One of these times, that wouldn’t be good enough for him. He knew that one of these times she asked, he would flip. He couldn’t contain himself for that long, surely not if she continued down this path.

Charli blinked slowly, she leaned her chin on his shoulder as she sat perpendicular to him, her mouth hot against his neck. “Fucking gentleman shit. Stop making me beg, Harry, it’s not nice of you. I’m really not against begging, you know?”

Harry sensed the danger in this game—his adrenaline living for this type of interaction as he practically chewed through his bottom lip. He swallowed, letting his dry throat be a reminder of how he felt in the moment. He shut his eyes softly again before he watched Charli reach for the small baggie. His eyes narrowing as she had practically memorized his movement, picking up a small amount on the nail of her pinky before looking at him with the dazed, blown eyes that were starting to hypnotize him.

“C’mon, please,” She asked again, softly, “It’ll be fun, we don’t even have to leave the tent.”

He felt himself tense at her words—knowing full well that they could do dangerous things just in this small vicinity. He would ravish her; make her cry out in pleasure so trembling that he wasn’t sure it was for his eyes, or not. Harry became quite a monster in all the best senses when his senses were heightened—he wasn’t sure that he would be able to hold himself back again.

It was one thing when it would be one-and-done; this was Charli, after all. He would never be able to stop thinking about the pleasures and soft whimpers and rushing feelings of nirvana that would overcome him with her wrapped around him.

But what would be so bad about that?

He turned his head to the left, looking at her for a moment before he put his finger up to his nose, closing a nostril before sniffing in the white powder on her nail, letting it coat his nose and every inch of his last bit of sanity. The head rush made him breathe out in a gasp before he stared up at the ceiling. The numbness in his throat, the adrenaline rush that went straight to through his limbs and into his chest.

“Fuck,” He stated clearly, letting himself sit for a moment before the high took over. Staring at her under the influence became a greater, much more euphoric feat as he turned to see Charli smiling at him with a face of triumph.

The world outside the tent seemed to fade into a distant hum as Harry and Charli sat cross-legged on the crumpled blankets. The warm buzz of the coke coursed through Harry's veins, amplifying every sensation, every sound, every breath Charli took in the small area. The tent was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the lantern they’d placed at the entrance. It cast a golden hue over Charli’s face, making her skin look impossibly smooth, her eyes dark and endless as her dark curls laid around her face.

Charli leaned back on her elbows, her gaze fixed on Harry with a mix of amusement and something else he couldn’t quite place. She bit her lip, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sent a jolt through Harry's chest. He was hyper-aware of everything—of the way her top had slipped slightly off one shoulder of how her breath was just a little unsteady, matching his own.

“This stuff’s intense,” Charli murmured, her voice soft but carrying a weight that made Harry’s pulse quicken.

“Yeah, it really is,” he replied, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes. The air between them felt charged, thick with anticipation and a tension that couldn’t be fooled.

A slow smile spread across Charli’s face, and she tilted her head, studying him like she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re different here, you know that?” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Not the same Harry I see with Jack.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but it may have been the mixture of substances. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Charli shrugged, her smile deepening. “You’re… less shy. More fun.”

Harry laughed softly, the sound coming out shaky. “I guess this place brings it out of me.”

Charli’s smile faltered for just a moment, her eyes searching his. “Or maybe it’s just us,” she said quietly. “In this world.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Harry felt a thrill run through him. Charli sat up slowly, closing the space between them until he could feel the heat radiating from her body. Her knee brushed against his thigh, and it was like an electric shock. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was, how he could smell the faint traces of her perfume, mixed with the sharp scent of sweat and something sweet.

“I’ve always liked that about you,” Charli said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “How you’re different. How you make me feel different. You’ve always been so nice to me, you know? So… pleasing.”

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Charli…”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Her touch was light, almost tentative, but it was enough to break the dam.

In one swift motion, Charli leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both fierce and hungry. Harry’s mind went blank, every thought drowned out by the sensation of her mouth on his, the taste of her, the feel of her body pressing against his. He responded instinctively, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, grew more frantic. It was a deepened state of mind that brought him back to reality as he pulled away for a moment to breathe and regroup his thoughts.

Harry grabbed the bandana around his neck, pulling it off before he moved to the front of the tent. Charli’s eyes narrowed as she watched him begin to leave, her mind not meeting her words that she wanted to speak out. Instead, she watched as he wrapped the bandana around the zipper of the tent, letting it hand off the outside before he zipped it up fully.

“So Jack knows I’m in here with someone,” He told her, “Our secret, though, yeah? You and me?”

Charli nodded a few times before they had reattached to one another again. Harry reached out to grab the back of her head, pulling her lips to him in a quick, rushing moment. They were pressed to each other, the messy top lip kiss elated a whimper from Charli before she sat up on her knees, pushing back against Harry to try and get him to lay down so that she could take the control she craved.

He resisted, letting his hand grab at her waist before letting her climb into his lap as a fair compromise. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hair falling over their kiss as she allowed her tongue to travel over his plumped bottom lip. It was a feeling greater than pleasure; one of great heights that she would never be able to pinpoint except in this moment.

“You’re a needy little minx, aren’t you?” Harry grabbed onto her waist, the bares skin only being covered by the string that held her top up. “Coming onto your brother’s friend, such a needy, sly little fox. Wouldn’t have ever thought it.”

His hands felt the small of her back before she pulled back to get a glimpse of the way that his eyes dilated to the largest, dark circles of abyss, staring at her with a want so great that she wasn’t sure she’d ever find again.

She didn’t know which substance was talking but she seemingly found either to be mesmerizing.

“God,” She breathed out, pushing his hair back—his head pushing back as she kissed along the base of his neck. Her hips pressed into his, pushing up on his stomach as she pressed against the length of his body. “Wasn’t going to fuck just anyone this weekend, you know,” She breathed, “Love getting what I want.”

Harry scoffed at her answer, pulling her back before he let her hands rest against his shoulders. His eyes flew down to the way that her top dropped in the front. His hands reached behind her to grab the tie, pulling at it hastily before the top practically fell apart in his hands. The way that his eyes glided over her perfectly settled tits was mesmerizing; her left one holding a small, silver piercing that caught his attention like a hawk.

As she sat in his lip, her chest at eye level, Harry stared up at her for a moment before she squirmed in anticipation. Harry licked his lips softly before spitting gently onto her hardened nipple, watching as the dribble slid down the curve of her skin. Her heart practically stopped at the stalemate interaction, waiting for him to touch her.

The heaviness of her breath took his breath away— watching her chest inflate, deflate, settle. His cock hardened underneath her, her hips moving and feeling the reaction before a bit of surprise crossed her face.

“You’ve gotten me worked up all weekend, you know that?” He told her roughly, his throat hoarse but telling her simply, “Not going to go lightly on you—I’m going to fuck you into oblivion, and you’re going to take every inch, every moment, every word of it. You understand me?”

His thumb reached out to rub over the darkened, hard nipple that had sat untouched. Her reaction was visceral. The heat of the tent was starting to get to her already but couldn’t breathe at the thought of what was to come.

“Mhm,” She nodded, curtly, “Yes, sir—fuck, yes, please.”

The nickname sparked an electricity below his belt before he pushed her from him and onto the small, padded area of the tent that he had been sleeping on. Her world flipped as she stared now at the ceiling; the small light of the lantern by the door was the only amount of light. His hips pushed into hers as they melted into one another.

It didn’t take him anytime at all before he pulled down the shorts that sat on her body—they weren’t covering much, but they were enough of a barrier. The boots she had been wearing came too. His eyes drifted to the jet-black thong that covered little to nothing. The growl in his chest reverberated before he leaned up to kiss her again— messy, the way that his mustache tickled her lip was a certain kind of pain.

She wasn’t sure what was his needs and what was the drugs that were heightening every inch of her sense. She felt her body trembling, Harry watched as she shivered, her teeth chattering for a moment before he nodded as if to speak to her without a single word.

“You’ve got it all pent up,” He nodded at her, confirming her want and needs, “It’s going to fucking snap—you’re going to feel like you’re looking at yourself from up above, like you’re levitating almost,” He licked his lips, “I’m going to talk you through it though, don’t you worry.”

His hands moved to her hips, pulling them up as he played with the edges of the small thong that barely created space between them. Harry pulled himself up to leave a few more kisses on her mouth, notably feeling the want and need of her tongue pressing past his lips for more intensity—more feeling as she responded to his touch.

“Do you hear that?” She asked him, breaking their touch and kiss as he stared down at her for a moment. His eyes heavy on hers as she stared at him with a million sparkles in her eyes—the sparkling dust filling around her orbiting pupils.

“The music?” He asked, unsure. But when he watched her shake her head, he narrowed his eyebrows.

“That sound—it’s a buzzing, it’s uh, it’s like, it’s rushing—the ocean,” She shook her head, shutting her eyes. “It’s—”

Harry lifted his hand brushing her cheek softly before he looked between her eyes. Licking his lips, he nodded in acknowledgment.

“That’s the blood in your veins you’re hearing. Sounds like the rushing of water, every time your heart beats.” He explained, as if it was logical.

Charli took in a breath, “It’s addicting—that sound.”

Harry let his hand drift further down, down, down. Stopping at the small string of her thong, pulling at it.

“Let me make the sound louder, hm?” He sat up just a bit, giving him room to pull the underwear down her legs. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he watched them turn menacing, the devilish pleasure kingdom heating between her thighs.

It took everything in him not to drop his eyes—he’d never get the sight out of his memory once he did. Her laying there in complete submission to him—wanting his touch more than the security of never doing anything about it.

Her knees bent upwards, her hand resting on her stomach before she teased the idea of going further on her own. His eyes flickered, catching sight before he breathed outwards. The world turned upside down, eating away at him as pulled at the cotton tee that rested on his back, letting the clothes make a puddle next to them.

“You going to show me how you like it, then?” He teased, letting his lips settle between her breasts, giving a small kiss before moving down a few inches. The kisses were hard, pulling at her skin the way he knew she wanted.

“I’ve never felt like this,” She told him honestly, arching her back.

“Need me, then, do you?” He asks, sitting up a bit before kissing the top of her knee. His hand ran itself down the length of her torso, watching every movement of it. It was like a trail, a road. Every divot, every freckle, every small wrinkle of her skin.

“So bad.” She gasped out before he let his fingers move down her body further. The moment he touched her, they both gasped at the undeniable feeling of longing—the collection of wetness that coated his fingers, the warmth of her being.

Harry watched every moment, every movement. His lips parted, watching as she quickly settled, finding her grounding once he pressed one finger deep into her. The way that she opened for him wasn’t a coincidence; she had been waiting for this moment for so long, he could feel every inch of her holding onto his soul.

“God, more,” She begged, her hands moved into her hair as she arched into the feeling. “More—fuck.”

In that moment, he felt like an other-worldly being, giving her everything that she could have asked for. Anything he did would pleasure her; it was a superiority that couldn’t believe he had in his touch, but he smirked at her desperation.

“More?” He confirmed, letting his middle finger slide in right in place, before he curved them, “Like that?”

A mewl left between her lips as she huffed a breath. It was a bit loud; he could process that as soon as it happened, the noise going straight below his shorts before he leapt up to grip at her chin.

“Shh,” He told her, “Knew you’d be loud, but we gotta’ keep it to us, hm? Just right here.” His mouth leaned down, hot breath along her lips as he held his arm up right next to her head.

Charli felt like her body had melted onto the floor and completely dispersed in a million directions. The lightness that she felt, the warmth that her body harbored while still having a chill to her skin. Each movement, each touch, each breath—it came into her mind like the brightest sunshine.

His fingers moved in a synchronization with her heartbeat as she felt the easiness that came with pleasing her. He pressed on her lower abdomen when he pressed in, which elicit her back to arch against the ground. It was a rapid movement, but more of a flick to his wrist like a painter would say practice makes perfect.

Harry’s eyes moved down to the perfectly pink tone of her clit, aching and drenched with pleasure as he let his thumb rub over it. Her own wetness creating the perfect glide of his fingers as he bit back at the filth of his thoughts. He had so much to say and would hold it back from scaring her off.

The soft whimper of her created a symphony between them; one rock of her hips too many would set him off, he was certain.

“Don’t be scared of it, c’mon,” He pushed his fingers in to the knuckle, letting them beckon with the motion, letting them sit for a moment before his thumb rubbed over her swollen clit—the blood rushing through her system as he nodded at her. “You can fucking do it, Char, fucking soak me, huh?”

Her back arched in anticipation of the rush, pressing her hips into his touch further as the overwhelming and unjustifiable sense of pleasure carried her upwards into the heavens. The sound she made was sinful, the way that her eyes rolled back. Every inch of the detail was harbored by the darkness around them, but Harry felt that he could see through it—watching it as brightly as he could.

There was a small gush of her orgasm that made her body shiver with adrenaline as it soaked her inner thighs, the muscles in her legs contracting and shaking as she pulled them together. She breathed out a whimpered moan before grabbing onto his forearm to elicit the message that she was simply overworked by the feeling.

Harry breathed heavily, watching her wrecked laying in the middle of the bed he had made—simply lying in it. Her chest pulsed upwards as she had her eyes shut; he knew, even in his high, that he needed to give her a minute before they imploded. He didn’t want to make her heart rate skyrocket, so he settled on giving himself the pleasure of bringing his fingers towards his lips, letting his tongue dance over the wetness of them.

“So, so fucking delicious.” He stated under his breathe, watching as she writhed under him. Her eyes now wide open, watching him taste her on his fingers as she mewls with need. It’s filthy—it’s nothing she’s ever witnessed; a man devouring a woman in this way. She knew it would be like this with him, which turned her on more than she could imagine.

“Going to wet my cock like that too, hm?” He asked, coaxing her. “Going to prove yourself to me?”

Her face was flushed, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. It took him a moment, the words leaving his lips were enough to push her over the edge once again. He pressed his hands into her hips to steady her, giving her a sense of grounding. His high made his head dizzy with greed; his thoughts danced with a flourishing wave of desire.

“You have to stay with me, Charli,” He told her gently, “Let me hear your pretty words. You want me?”

Charli had tears in her eyes, a push of absolute certainty flooded through her as she sat up in a haste to let her hands move through his hair. Her lips found his again, letting her taste herself against his lips—his tongue was warm with her.

“Mm, those aren’t words,” He murmured against her. “But I’ll take it as a yes.”

“I’m just speechless,” She giggled out, “Sorry.”

It was chaos; the mascara smudged on her bottom lash line that created a darkened effect. It was revelry; the waning moon of her pupils as they settled back into a faded darkness.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Harry echoed out his thoughts into the air as he let his thumb press into her bottom lip. He grabbed onto it, letting her smirk take over as she only harbored the horniness further from the way he degraded and lifted her in such bliss. “So, so fucking pretty. Could wreck every inch of your pretty cunt.”

“Let me play the game,” Her voice shrouded innocence, letting her hair fall into her face before he pushed it back. Her mind was running a million miles a minute, but her movements were slow, her erraticism and need for him ate away at her.

In an instant, she was pushing at his chest, moving him back so that he could rest on his hands. She wanted to pull on his shorts, let them both then lay together. The sweat that had sheened over their bodies both had created a humidity within the tent as they continued to find air to breathe, focusing on themselves.

Charli’s hands had pulled the shorts down his hips, practically not even giving attention to the stiff cock that laid against him—ready for her at any moment. Their lips intertwined again; he had missed the sweetness, knowing that it was such a part of their collective. She sighed against him, loving the feeling of his facial hair against her skin—the rough pleasure of it.

Harry laid, his back arching from the hardness of the ground, his hands on her hips as she moved to straddle him. Charli placed her shaking hand around his length, pumping him a few times, eyeing it for a moment before the sensual want of her eyes caught his. Harry bit his lip at the way that she looked; her disguise of innocence was just that.

Her head leaned down, a gentle lick under the head of his cock just to set his skin ablaze. Her eyes matched his, the eye contact far too superior. His eyes watched the hunger that captivated her, each moment longer than the next as she rested her weight on his chest before she lifted herself to sink down onto him instead.

The control he didn’t have was obvious now; he gripped onto the flesh of her hips, jaw tight. His eyes shut as he tried to come to terms with the already built feeling that settled within him. It had built up to an indecent amount, and his mind was blurring with thoughts that continue to poke and prod.

It was quick—an instant, really. No thoughts, no inhibitions, just surrender and want.

“God, fuck,” He cursed, letting her settle as her torso seemed to go for miles, he looked up. “You’re so fucking wet. Christ.”

Charli lolled her head back at the feeling of him, her hips moving back and forth just to grab onto the tension that was building. Her hair fell onto her back as she let out a breath, her hands resting on his chest to hold herself up as Harry watched her practically rub herself onto him.

His eyes wandered up her chest, watching as she arched her back to pull herself towards him. Harry’s hands landed on her ass, spreading her apart as he bucked his hips into her, his length poking in and out of her enough to create a guttural response in the back of her throat.

Harry lifted his fingers to grab at the back of her neck, pulling her head forward. His thumb pressed gently into her lips as they pouted outwards, letting his fingers coat themselves in the wetness of her bottom lip. Their hips rocked together; he grabbed her ass, pulling her upwards before he slammed his hips into her.

It was fun—it was one of the most diabolical moments he could remember, considering he knew that they could be caught at any moment in the most compromising of positions. He bit his lip to stifle the smile that pushed on his face as Charli looked down towards him, biting her own lip with ease.

“You are such fucking trouble,” Harry’s tongue was hot all the sudden, “Going to be the end of me.”

Charli hummed, laying forward to let her lips crash against Harry’s once against, a sea of teeth and scrapes as she let her nose rest against his for a moment.

“Been trying to tell you for years,” She breathed out while keeping their rocking motion of thrusts, their in-sync motions letting her breath heighten, “Too stubborn.”

“Bullshit,” Harry moved her hips against him, looking up at her, “You haven’t shown a bit of interest in me.”

Charli threw her hair to the other side of her head, letting her lips move down to the base of Harry’s jaw to suck gently—he lifted his head a bit to let her work.

“You’re clueless, then,” She chuckled under her breath, “I always wanted you to be my first kiss, you know. I had the biggest crush on you.”

The slight ping of vulnerability that hits the air lets Harry’s eyes flicker back to her; his hands roaming the fleshiness of her hips, fingernails scraping against her skin, details of her touch were kept in his mind.

“Had?”

They seem to be the only words that Harry can muster out before he watches her blush, pulling her head down into his neck as they both moan in unison from the way that she pulls up, moving down a bit more forcefully.

“Shit, you can’t keep doing that—” Harry starts to warn before she does it again, eliciting a reaction as he holds onto her waist so she can’t move any further. Charli can’t help it though, she’s pushing herself back at the feeling, knowing the one that she’s chasing is enough to give herself another orgasm.

She pushes back again a few more times—Harry’s inhibitions and self-control have formally flung out of the air; he’s never felt more obliterated and unwell. Focusing on her for a moment, he shakes his head as he recognizes that he’s not at all in the right headspace. The powder usually calms him and gives him more self-control, but something about this feels different.

Something about her.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna,” He pulled her hips up, lifting her from him before ribbons of cum were left on her lower tummy and thigh, and his stomach as he held his length to finish himself off. “Fuck.”

It was a senseless act, knowing that their response time had already been stunted from the high that they were on top of the world with. His muscles contracted heavily, watching as she held herself up, straddling his lap around the mess that coated both. It’s a moment of silence, a bit of regret at the now messy situation that has them both sitting for a moment with shaky breaths and uncontrollable heart rates.

“Oh, god,” He breaths, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

His eyes feel like they’re moving a mile a minute, trying to settle as they look at Charli on top of him. She’s bent over now, laying on top of him with their chests intertwined.

“Let me,” He offers, pushing her up a bit. He grabs the shirt he had been wearing, wiping it along himself, and her.

A few passes with the fabric, he throws it to the other side of the tent. At this point, his body feels like it’s become quite exhausted—it may have been dehydration, it may have been the high that had been wearing off. Harry licks over his lips as he feels Charli move from his body and down to his side. His arm reaches to grab the blanket that they had both been laying on top of, now moving it over their bodies as he felt her shivering next to him.

The high had been wearing off; her eyes shut and heavy as she laid on her side away from him. Her body tangled itself into the blankets, forming a cocoon of sorts to lay comfortably against him.

“Stay?” Her words were almost a question; one that he wasn’t sure was for him, or a confirmation from her that she would be. Instead, he pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, shielding her body that was out in the open. His breath inhaled her scent, nose nudging at her shoulder before he nodded.

“Stay.” He confirmed.

Harry clenched his jaw as he shut his eyes; the sleep that was impending came sooner than expected for the both of them.

When Harry opened his eyes next, the light from the tent had been bursting in. The heat of the fabric had given his skin a sheen of sweat as he pulled the blanket from his chest. The way that his head pounded was a stark recollection of the previous night and the person he had wished most to see when he turned over.

But the space next to him was empty—the tent was empty.

He sat up, horrified by the way that he felt—knowing that he shouldn’t have participated in the coke with Charli, but knowing that what came out of it was stuck in his memory for the rest of his life. He wondered if she regret it; walking away from him without waking up next to him felt like something someone with regret would do.

Harry pulled his shorts on, as he hadn’t redressed the night prior. Crawling towards the zipped-up door, he opened it, finding himself squinting at the bright lights that had been trying to make their way through the fabric of the tent.

The pavilion was covered, and the familiar voices spoke outwardly with familiarity.

“Well, look who it is.” Jack’s words echoed out as Harry approached the small circle then. The small circle was the two people that he had not wanted to explicitly talk to right away. “Crazy night, huh? Couldn’t even come back to my tent, you must’ve been going all night. Lucky lady.”

He noticed Charli sitting there, her legs pulled up to her chest, wearing a large t-shirt and shorts that were most definitely men’s boxers. He swallowed hard, not wanting to take a closer look but being almost completely certain that they were his.

Their eyes met for a moment; Charli lifted her hand to bite the skin around her thumb to keep herself from asserting any type of notion that either of them had a clue about what Jack had been talking about.

Instead, Harry nodded simply.

“Yeah, something like that.” His pulse threatened to burst at the thought of her; at the thought of them. “Yeah—I, uh, think that’s the first time that won’t be a one-time thing.”

Charli’s interest piqued, her eyes focusing on him for a moment before Jack hit his shoulder, chuckling out softly before he shook his head.

“She must’ve stolen your heart for you to say something like that.” Jack exclaimed, taking a bite of his breakfast, offering Harry a plate before he took it willingly. Charli, sitting there trying to mind her own had a simple smile on her face, trying her best to not give away any details of the previous night.

But her mind took her back to falling asleep next to him; the quiet snores, the softness of his skin, the warmth of his embrace. She tucked some hair that had been falling out of her ponytail, biting her lip as she sniffled softly.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded a few times, the smile encapsulating his face, “Something like that.”

[ceruark]

liquid courage

synopsis: aventurine leaves your drunk boss on your doorstep. notes: ceo! sunday x gn! personal assistant! reader. modern au (he's still an angel though, don't ask me how or why. the wings are important to me). fluff. cw: none! (implied aventurine/ratio, but nothing major) words: 3,147 inspiration: every kdrama ever

It was, for the first time in several months, a relaxing night.

After weeks of traveling between worlds and meeting with various business partners, you finally landed back in the place you called home: a rather luxurious unit in Golden Hour's finest apartment complex. It was far too big for one person and beyond what you dreamed of affording growing up, but it was necessary.

Not only were Golden Hour's Platinum Terraces a fifteen minute drive away from Dewlight Pavilion, but they also had the best security Penacony could offer. As the personal assistant of Halovian Corporation's esteemed CEO, you had a rather large target on your back. So, despite your initial hesitations, you'd agreed to live in the flashiest building in Golden Hour.

It wasn't like your wallet was suffering because of it. The astronomical cost of rent hardly put a dent in what the Oak Family deposited into your account every other week.

You sighed and stretched out leisurely on your couch, flipping through the channels until you settled on a showing of one of your favorite movies. You let it play in the background while you responded to messages from friends you hadn't had the chance to get back to during the trip. In between enthusiastic conversations and pictures of the fancy meals and hotels you'd stayed at, you scrolled through your social media accounts, grimacing at your feed when it recommended a picture taken of you without your knowledge.

It shouldn't have surprised you that being around Sunday constantly would put you under the same spotlight he grew up in. Heir to the Oak Family's fortune and beloved by Penacony's citizens, the only person on the planet who could complain about having more cameras shoved in their face on a daily basis was his darling sister. As his assistant, you showed up in almost every photo his fans snapped of him. Over the past four years, his fanbase picked apart everything about you: your appearance, your upbringing, your interests, and your lifestyle habits. You weren't quite sure what spurred them on— sheer jealousy at your proximity to him, or their infatuation for him extending to you— but they had all reached the same conclusion: you were rather unremarkable.

You were raised by your parents in a suburb about 30 miles out from Golden Hour. You performed well enough in university, graduating in the top percent of your class, but not as valedictorian. You managed to get hired at Halovian Corp out of college, and you'd been consistently promoted each year since then, moving from secretary to administrative secretary to personal assistant of a high-ranking director, until eventually, you ended up at Sunday's side.

Though your career was impressive, your life lacked intrigue that news outlets and Sunday's fans vied for. You didn't come from money, you weren't dating anyone famous, and therefore, you weren't worth thinking about. You preferred things that way, but it still didn't make seeing pictures of yourself floating around online any easier.

(Especially when people began overanalyzing how Sunday spoke to you in this video, or looked at you in that photo. Their theories had substance to back them up, and you didn't like to think about it. It took damn near two years to perfect the professional front you kept up with your gorgeous boss, thank you very much, and it had only been about a year since he started actually acting himself around you— you couldn't afford to start slipping up now.)

As you scrolled past a fancam of Robin, a message notification popped up at the top of your screen. You tapped on it, and raised an eyebrow at the sender.

Aventurine: hey. you in?

The IPC director was an unlikely friend, but after dealing with Sunday for years and becoming the unofficial point of contact between the IPC and Halovian Corp, you'd started seeing him often enough that you agreed to go to a bar with him one night when you were off the clock. He was good company, and the two of you kept in touch.

One day, after finding out you'd been talking with Aventurine outside of business ventures, Sunday was oddly insistent that he join you two on that night's excursion. You were hesitant to agree, given that Sunday and Aventurine were civil at best and downright antagonistic at worst. But, Aventurine had readily agreed to letting Sunday attend, so you said yes as well. The night had gone better than expected, and after a few more impromptu meetings, Sunday had started talking to Aventurine regularly as well.

You were glad to see your overly cautious boss make a friend, even if he would never admit that they were.

You: yeah, what's up?

His response was instantaneous.

Aventurine: great. let me in, will you?

Your eyebrows drew together. You'd mentioned you lived in the Platinum Terraces, but you'd never brought Aventurine back to your apartment. How did he know where you live?

You leaned off the couch and toward the coffee table to pick up one of the screens hooked up to the alarm system. You tapped a few buttons on the screen until the feed from the camera facing the hallway came up.

Aventurine stood in front of your door, talking animatedly to your boss, who was propped up against him. You couldn't see his face, but you didn't need to to know he was inebriated. He probably wouldn't be so close to the blonde otherwise.

"What the hell?" You muttered, rushing over to the door. Sunday hardly ever drank, and if he did, it was never enough to get him past the point of tipsy. You quickly undid the bolts and threw it open.

Aventurine and Sunday looked up at you. Amusement danced in the former’s eyes, and for whatever reason, he seemed to be very pleased with himself.

Sunday blinked slowly, adjusting his vision to the sudden disappearance of the door. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before his features lit up with recognition. His wings twitched a bit as he tilted his head to the side. The slightest of smiles pulled at his mouth, and your name fell from his lips in the form of a whispered question.

You flushed red. You suddenly felt very self-conscious of your Hanu themed pajama pants.

Your gaze snapped back to Aventurine, who smirked back at you. You ignored it. "What happened?"

"We went out drinking and someone—" He turned to Sunday, whose gaze still hadn't left you. "—got a little carried away."

"And you didn't think to take him back to Dewlight Pavilion?"

"I think you and I both know there would be consequences if he returned there in this state."

You grimaced. He was right. Undoubtedly, there would be paparazzi camped outside of the Oak Family's estate. There always was.

"Okay, you didn't think to take him back to your place?"

Aventurine moved his free hand to his chest in mock offense. "Bringing a drunken man home to my brilliant boyfriend who's already waiting for me in bed? You must be praying on my downfall."

You glowered at him, but before you could respond, the rustling of feathers caught your attention. You turned, watching your boss sway on his feet. He watched you with a frown, appearing more upset than you'd ever seen him.

"You don't want me here?" He pouted, and his wings fluttered dejectedly.

Your stomach flipped over, and you reached out to grab his other arm as he stumbled away from Aventurine.

"No, no, that's not it." He moved away from the blonde completely as you reassured him, leaning into your touch. You grunted as you struggled to keep him upright. "I'm just worried about you being somewhere you don't feel comfortable."

He hummed, leaning forward and nuzzling his face in your hair. "I'm far more comfortable with you than the gambler."

Aventurine watched the two of you, smugness rolling off him in waves. "Yeah," he laughed, "we can see that."

You were going to kill Aventurine. You were going to tuck Sunday into your bed, leave a glass of water and an Advil on the nightstand, and then you were going to hit the blonde with your car.

You shot him another glare before turning back to Sunday. You pulled one of his arms around your shoulders and wrapped one of yours around his waist to steady him. He turned bright red suddenly and you opened your mouth to ask him if he felt sick, but his wings started flapping again. This close, a few feathers smacked into your mouth, and you sputtered.

Aventurine's unrestrained laughter brought your attention back to him. You snapped at him. "Can you make yourself useful and get the doors for me?"

It took everything you had left in you to get Sunday into your bedroom and withstand Aventurine's teasing, but eventually, you managed to get there. You eased Sunday down on the bed, keeping a hand on his back to ensure he stayed sitting upright.

"Are you feeling sick?" You asked.

Sunday shook his head. He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder. Fighting down another blush (you refused to give Aventurine more ammunition), you tried to pull yourself away from him, but he wrapped his arms around yours and held on.

"Sunday," you said, "I need to go get you water. Can you let go of me, please?"

His voice was muffled by your shirt. "Aventurine can get it."

Said man huffed, but he was too entertained to be truly annoyed, or to decline. "Sure I can," he agreed, before addressing you. "Where are your cups?"

"Top right cabinet," you answered, and he set off.

Sunday's head lolled to the side, rolling off your shoulder. His pout was still there, and it set your face aflame. "It's too hot," he complained.

And then he started to take his coat off.

Well, he tried to. His clumsy movements caused it to get tangled in his arms.

"Here, let me help you," you offered against your better judgment. You stood and reached behind him, carefully guiding his arms out of the sleeves. You turned around and walked over to your closet, hanging the coat on a nearby hook.

When you faced him again, he already had his shirt halfway off.

Xipe, give me strength, you thought to yourself, tearing your gaze away from his bare skin. Your gaze lingered on the wings sprouting from his lower back, which sat curled around his abdomen. When he managed to get the shirt over his head and onto the floor, he unfurled the second set of wings. They spanned the entire length of your bed and were much darker than the ones by his hair. He gave a few languid flaps before settling down, causing them to droop. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against them. So much for keeping up your professional front. You had no idea how you were going to face him when he sobered up.

A choked gasp prompted you to drop your hands from your face. Aventurine almost dropped the glass in shock when he returned. 

"Well," he said as he placed the glass down on the nightstand. "Seems like it's time for me to leave."

You sent him one last scathing glare. "I can't believe you."

Faux innocence crept onto his face. "Whatever do you mean? I haven't done anything."

You crossed the room and shoved at him. "Out." You pushed him back down the hall and to the open front door. "Get out of my house."

"Wow. Eager aren't we?" He winked at you.

"Eager to get my revenge. Veritas will love the video I have of you drunk and blubbering about how much you miss him," you said. Then you slammed the door in his face.

As soon as the door shut, Sunday called for you from the bedroom. You'd heard him use a sickly sweet tone with clients before, but this one lacked the venom that usually accompanied it. It was like he was singing each syllable of your name, savoring the way each sound rolled off his tongue.

"I need to type up my resignation," you muttered to yourself. You could handle Sunday in the beginning when he was standoffish and paranoid, but there was no way you were making it through this.

You walked back to the room, willfully overlooking the way his hanging wings straightened up when you reappeared in the doorway. You stopped a few feet in front of him, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Hey," you said softly. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

Sunday blinked at you, then looked down at the comforter under his fingers. "I am at the bed."

You snorted. "Well, we should get you under the covers."

His nose scrunched in displeasure. "No. It's too warm for that."

You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him in this state. "Alright, then. Lay down, and make sure to stay on your side. If you feel sick, there's a trash can right here by the bed. If you need anything else, I'll be down the hall."

You turned to leave, but his hand caught your wrist with surprising speed. He stared up at you with wide eyes. "Where are you going?"

You tilted your head at him. "Um, to bed?"

His brow furrowed slightly, the way it usually did when he was in deep thought. "But this is your bed."

"Yes, it is." You slipped your wrist out of his grasp, but he caught you again by the fingers. "I'm going to sleep on the couch. I won't be far."

The hold he had on your fingers was tighter than you thought. You pulled away, expecting to be freed, but tripped a bit when the rest of your body didn't follow your legs. He pulled you toward him and tumbled forward, falling onto the bed. He moved over and drew you closer to him, draping one of his wings across your waist and legs.

You didn't know if your heart had stopped, or was just beating so fast you couldn't feel it.

"Um, Sunday," you said, the rest of your words coming out as a babbled mess. You tried to untangle yourself from him, but he just clung on to you, refusing to let go.

"Please don't leave me," he mumbled.

You finally managed to put enough distance between you two that you could look him in the eye. "Sunday," you said, "you're drunk. You're going to regret this in the morning."

He frowned. "I will not regret something I've dreamed of doing for months."

In the end, it was neither. You were certain your heart was beating so hard it burst, and now you were dead. When you tried pulling away again, he placed a hand on your cheek, freezing you in place.

"Please," he whispered. "Just give me five minutes."

The desperation in his voice whittled away at the rest of your resistance. You settled down on the mattress, allowing him to hold you but not getting close enough for it to be considered cuddling. Staring at the ceiling in silence, you mulled over his words.

He was dreaming about cuddling, or intimate touch of some sort. It shouldn't be surprising that a twenty-seven year old man longed for that kind of companionship, but whenever other members of The Family had brought up him not having found a partner yet, he always shrugged them off. You figured it was because he generally wasn't interested in finding someone, but maybe it was just that he didn't want the rest of The Family involved in something as personal as his love life.

"I can talk to Robin about suggesting eligible suitors for you, if you want," you said. "We can even outsource their background checks to the IPC. Aventurine will be annoying about it, but I'm sure he'll agree to do it."

There was a long stretch of silence. Sunday finally spoke just as you'd begun to regret your words. "Why would you do that?"

You looked at him, confused. "You said you've dreamed of this."

"Yes," he said, "I did say that."

Was he really going to make you spell it out for him? Well, it had to be more embarrassing for him than it was for you. "If you desire... intimacy, it's only natural we start looking for potential suitors for you."

His eyes darkened, and a slight scowl pulled at his lips. At least this face was familiar: disappointment.

"I just told you I've dreamed of this," he muttered.

You nodded in agreement. "You've dreamed of holding someone."

"I've dreamed of holding you."

Oh. That complicated things.

You swallowed back a fit of nervous laughter. Your face felt like it was going to melt off. "I'm sorry." Your voice came out as hardly more than a croak. "I wasn't aware that's what you meant."

He leaned forward, eyes earnest. "Do you still want to look for other suitors for me?"

You considered your words carefully. "Not if it's something you don't want."

He hummed, then laid his head against the pillow. His breath fanned over your face as he spoke. It smelled like mint and whiskey. "Do you want to be my suitor?"

You pulled your gaze away from his lips and to his eyes. You didn't even know how your eyes got there. "I think you should ask me again when you're sober."

He studied your face for a long moment, then let his eyes flutter shut. "Fair enough," he said.

You laid there for a moment, allowing your heart rate to come back down and letting yourself take him in. His lips were slightly parted, even breaths slipping through them as sleep claimed him. His face wings twitched ever so often, usually followed by a twitch of the larger wing still wrapped around you.

You weren't certain how long you stayed there, just studying him, but at some point your blinks had grown heavier and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You gave one last shove against Sunday's arm and wing to try and free yourself, but even unconsciously, his resolve could not be shaken. He huffed at the disturbance and buried his face further into the pillow. His wing tightened around you as he tried to curl in on himself, dragging you closer to him.

You sighed and rested your head on the pillow again. It was going to be impossible to get away from him now that his limbs were heavy with sleep. Knowing it was futile to try again, you let your eyes slip shut. You shifted into a more comfortable position, moving one of your arms to rest on top of the wing.

Five minutes, you lied to yourself. I'll try again in five minutes.

[magalhaessims]

DEL SOL BOULEVARD - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

NOT CC FREE 

Lot Type: Thrift And Bubble Tea Store | Retail

Size: 30x30

World: Del Sol Valley

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims��(remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

Charly Pancakes: Lavish | Miscellanea | Modish | Munch 01 & 02 | Soak | The Lighthouse Collection || TheClutterCat: Baby Boo | Dandy Diary | Mermaid Mansion | On The Edge | Snuggle Set | Sunny Sundae || Felixandre: Berlin | Chateau | Grove Set | Shop The Look 01 - 03 | Soho || Harrie: Brownstone | Brutalist Bathroom | Halcyon Kitchen | Klean | Kwatei | Octave | Shop The Look 02 & 03 | Spoons || House Of Harlix: Baysic Collection & Bathroom | Harluxe | Kichen 2 Point 1 | Livin'Rum | Orjanic | The Bafroom | The Kichen || KKB-MM: My Cherish Things: Kitchen || LittleDica: Arcane | Chic Bathroom | Delicious Kitchen | Greasy Goods | H&B Store | Rise&Grind | Sleek Slumber || Max20: Cozy Bathroom Kit | Poolside Lounge (Plants) || MLys: Pufferhead Stuff Pack || Peacemaker-ic: Bowed Bedroom | Bowed Living | Creta Kitchen | Furrowed Plaster Wall | Geometric Mural Wall || Pierisim: Auntie Vera Bathroom | Calderone | Coldbrew Coffee Shop | Combles | David Apartment | MCM House | Oak House | Pantry Party | Stefan | Tilable Kitchen | Woodland Ranch || S-imagination: Nota Living Room | Rutland Kitchen || Sixam-CC: Home Office (Printer) | Hotel Bedroom (Hair Brush) | Private School (Water Fountain) || Someone-Elsa: Passion By Judith Ward Collection || Surely-Sims: Kitchen Of Tomorrow (Nuka Cola) || Syboulette: Fabulous | Happy Stairways | Love Is In The Air | Neighborly | Nothing To Wear | Pavilion || Taurus Design: Judith Living Room || Tuds: Beam Living | Ema Living

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

HOW TO MAKE THIS LOT FUNCTIONAL:

For the Boba Tea Store, I've added the ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter created by @srslysims. It features the same animation and interactions as the vanilla version but without the bulky counter it comes with.

For the Clothing Store, I recommend using the Fashion Store Mod by Nando. I've placed interactive mirrors in the changing cabins so your Sims can actually buy clothes from them.

For the Sephora Store, I'm utilizing the Functional Perfumes by @aroundthesims along with the Saleabration Store Mod by @ravasheencc, allowing your Sims to buy and use them! Additionally, I've included the New Styling Station (Chair) by @aroundthesims so your Sims can enjoy a little makeover at the store.

For the Bookstore, I'm incorporating both the Retail Therapy Mod by @ravasheencc and the Self-Service Kiosk by @aroundthesims, enabling your Sims to purchase books within the store. You don't have to have both mods installed if you don't want to; either one will suffice!

For a more immersive experience with this lot, I highly suggest downloading LittleMsSam’s Auto Employees Mod. With this mod, NPCs will automatically work at the lot once you place the correct object for them to appear.

Make sure to read all the information available on the mods' pages in order to ensure they work properly in your game!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Thank you for reblogging: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds and everyone else for helping me boost this post!

[glassrowboat]

Daydream in a Nightmare

Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.

Mondstadt

Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.

Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.

Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.

Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.

Liyue

Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.

Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.

Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.

Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.

Inazuma

Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.

Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?

Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.

Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.

Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.

Sumeru

Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.

Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.

Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.

Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.

Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.

Fontaine

Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.

Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.

Snezhnaya

Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.

Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.

Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.

Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.

Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.

Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

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Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[piss-pumpkin]

Swords and Skeletons (Percy Jackson x reader)

Child of Hades Reader, ~3.7k words, set ambiguously after Nico turns emo, and before HoO ig

People said Camp Half Blood would be different. They called it a place where demigods could be free, safe, make friends, be normal for a change, and train to survive in the real world. A few of those were true, you found. There was training, arenas with swords, ranges with bows, and all that. But not once after arriving were you ever made to feel normal. Apparently, children of Hades were treated differently. 

From the moment the three headed dog of the underworld appeared above your head, the others looked at you less like a comrade, peer, or even friend, and more like an omen. You raise the dead one time at camp and people fall into hysterics. If they only knew the shit you were doing before camp. 

You went to the beach, all the canoes were full, all spoken for, no room for you. You grimaced as you walked away. Sure, that may as well happen. The summer had just started and you already claimed your status as an outsiders 

When you walked by the strawberry fields, the gardeners shot you odd looks, the bravest of which were as bold as to say you’d probably end up killing the plants. Like they didn’t know your dad was married to one of the plant and spring goddesses. Sure, why not?

Your first day claimed at Camp Half Blood was proving less than enjoyable. Just yesterday, with some Hermes kid giving you a tour, you were able to learn a few names, have a little fun. Now? Left alone to figure things out. 

A satyr showed you to your cabin, its dark and oppressive structure shrinking you down.  The satyr was quick to leave the moment your hand found the door handle. Typical. You rolled your eyes as you pushed it open.

It was much bigger than it needed to be, and remarkably dark. The few windows were covered with black curtains, and the overhead light shone dimly, as did the candles that were spread around. 

According the Chiron, you had one sibling, a little brother who occasionally came to camp. You curiously approached the one bunk that was in use. Your brother seemed the neat type, the bed was made, with clean white sheets, black blanket, and a single pillow. The dresser beside it was filled with black clothes, even a black version of the standard camp half blood shirt. This guy really committed to the bit. 

The only trace of personality was found in a few Polaroid photos sticking out from between the mattress and the bed frame. You couldn’t help pick one up to look at it. It was a very old black and white photo of a little boy and a girl. They looked like siblings. You put back the photo. 

You barely noticed the room was still dark. Sighing, you made your way to a window to shine a little sunlight in. 

You picked a top bunk on the other side of the room, and set your bag down. Completely moved in. You really needed more stuff. 

When dinner came, you quickly found out that you had to sit alone now. Great. No longer with acquaintances you could hold a pleasant conversation with from the Hermes cabin, who seemed to be getting along just fine without you. Your brow furrowed as you sat down. 

You picked at food. It was all good, the Camp Half Blood magic, and all, but your appetite was nowhere to be found. You halfway glared at the other tables, full of siblings, and even worse, the people who leaned back to laugh with friends at other tables. Maybe there was a good reason your brother didn’t come around often.

There was one guy though, that even in your soured mood, didn’t piss you off. Another person alone at their table. You watched him sceptically as as ate his… blue food, and texted with one hand. They said demigods couldn’t use phones? A bunch of people came by to talk to him as they were leaving the pavilion. Guess he’s popular. 

He glanced up, eyes landing on you, probably sending your gaze fixed on him. Fuck. You were totally staring. You blinked, and shifted your gaze to the table in front of you, and hoped he didn’t notice, or pay much mind. You hastily finished, discarding your plate and retreating to your cabin. 

Yikes. 

                                             …

As it turned out, you were not slick. The next day, when you were avoiding camp activities and the people who now awkwardly shuffled away from you when you tried to approach, you heard a knock on the door.

It was that guy. Of course it was. Who else would it be? Not your satyr, or any of the people from the Hermes cabin who were fine talking to you two days ago, not them. It was the guy who caught you staring at him. And you were here answering the door in your pyjamas. 

”Hey,” he said happily, waving. “I’m Percy.”

You hesitated. “Uh,” you started, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi Percy, I’m Y/n.”

He smiled widely, and gestured behind him. “Do you have anything going on right now? Cuz I’ve been doing some swinging in the arena, I could always show you some stuff if you’re still new to it.”

He seemed rather friendly. You were hesitant to buy it. “Uh, I got a little lesson the other day from… some Hermes kid,” you ambled, crossing your arms. 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” he said. “But feel free to stop by,” he started to turn away, but apparently had something left to say, and shit you one more smile. “I saw you had to sit alone yesterday,” he said. “I know it can be kinda hard to be a new camper and big three kid, especially Hades, so like…” he pursed his lips. “Don’t be a stranger, I guess.”

And then he was off, leaving you a little surprised. He was a big three kid too? You stood in the doorway watching him leave for a little longer than you meant too. You slowly stepped back inside. He didn’t seem put off by your staring, at least. But he noticed you were all alone with no friends. You couldn’t tell which outcome would be more embarrassing. 

You looked it a window, and saw a few kids walking down the path. They seemed close, laughing together and telling jokes you couldn’t hear. Ugh. Maybe you did need to talk to people. Rotting in your cabin, lamenting, wasn’t getting you anywhere fun. 

Groaning, you rooted around in your bag, and then the closet. There were spare black shirts. You snickered grabbing one off the hook and finally changing out of your pyjamas. 

The sun was entirely too bright. You squinted as you made your way down the steps, using your hand to cover the light. Where did he say? The sword… arena? You found the first directional sign on the way, and followed it to a fairly large area, it’s ground solid, packed,  and slightly dusty. Around it were mock colosseum stands, for watching the battles, you supposed. At the far side, was the guy, Percy, you now knew, swinging a sword viciously against a dummy. He seemed to be alone. A little odd considering his apparent popularity. 

Sighing, half regretting coming out, you approached. It took him a moment to notice, but he grinned at you when he did. “Oh my gods, you  actually came,” he said, surprised.

You did your best to put on a friendly smile, unsure why that was a difficult task. He’s probably the only one here who didn’t avoid you like the plague. “Uh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “You said something about sword fighting?” 

He nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yes,” he declared. “Let’s get you a weapon, I’ll give you the run down.”

You followed him towards a few weapons racks. “Well, I had a brief lesson the other day when I first arrived,” you said mindlessly, unsure why you kept resisting. You stood in front of the weapon rack. “Wait, is that a shotgun?”

Percy stifled a laugh, “yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, going on to explain all the reasons why the various guns weren’t good tools. Something about celestial bronze, ammo, and other complaints. You nodded along idly, doing your best to listen. “So, I’d just go with one of the more… classic, weapons,” he finished. 

You eyed them. Sword, dagger, mace, mallet, sickle, scythe, entirely too many options, leaving you paralyzed.

“If you go with the sword, I can probably show you some cool tricks,” Percy chimed in. 

That was good enough for you. You took a bronze sword by the hilt, and raised it. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to just fight using my powers?”

”I mean, yeah,” he said, “if that’s something you can do.”

”Yeah,” You said. “I did that that on the day I was claimed.”

”On purpose?” He asked, brow raised. 

You suppressed a laugh, covering your mouth with the non sword hand. “Yeah?” You said, like it was obvious. “Is that something people do by accident?”

Percy started towards the centre of the arena, and you followed as he explained, “A lot of demigods aren’t great at controlling their powers at first.”

You stood in front of him, mirroring his sword stance awkwardly, “well, it wasn’t my first time… I guess I’ve always kind of known I was a Hades kid, even before I knew what that meant.”

Percy pocketed his… pen sword, and came closer to you, moving your arms, gently kicking your leg to signal you to move. He adjusted the way you held your sword, thumb tucked around the handle. “If you hold it like this, you’ll have a better grip, and with wider legs, your more stable,” he said, pulling away again, and assuming the same stance. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled with a sigh once he was gone. 

“If you can use your powers,” he said, wide grin. “Then don’t hold back, that’s what they’re for.”

“Uh, okay,” you stuttered, gripping the sword with white knuckles. “You’re not worried?”

He chuckled, “I mean, a little bit, but no more then I am when I fight Annabeth.” You nodded, and he smiled, and you pursed your lips, because it was a little charming. “Okay,” he started. “How much did they teach you before?”

”Little bit? Stances, I think. And… I know how to swing it,” you said dumbly, now realizing you were probably matched against a pro.

He didn’t judge though, instead moving beside you, and mimicked you exactly. He stepped forward with his front foot, and urged you to do the same. You followed his movement, doing your best to copy him, following his hops, slides, jabs, and slices.

A few half bloods walked by the path as you practised, a few waved at Percy, a couple of them even smiling at you. Proximity to somebody likeable, you supposed. A couple girls and one boy glared at you though, stopping to stare with crossed arms when Percy got close, or laughed at something you said. He didn’t seem to notice, luckily. 

“Okay,” Percy said after a while. “You’ve got the moves now, all the basics.”

”I got the basics,” you echoed, nodding along. You were already a little sweaty, the sun beating overhead and your black shirt wasn’t helping. 

“So do you want to try light sparring?” He asked. 

“Sure,” you asserted. Readying your blade much more confidently than you did before. “Yes,” you nodded again, mentally preparing.

He grinned, “Alright, don’t go easy on me.”

And you didn’t. But you could tell he was going easy on you. You slashed, he blocked, you stabbed, he dodged, you lunged, he parried. Shit, this guy was pretty good. 

You thought back to what he said about powers. Time to get a little fun with it. What did you have under control? Really just summoning the dead, the rest you’d only done by accident, like Percy asked before. 

Percy took advantage of your thinking to quickly slide forward and swing at your side, a blow you were barely able to block, your own blade wobbling as you barely redirected the attack. 

You pivoted back, and jabbed your sword into the ground, opening a vein to the underworld… or something. You weren’t exactly sure how it all worked. 

You had to duck and roll as Percy slashed forward while your sword was down. It appeared he was working your training wheels off. 

A few skeletons popped their heads out of the hole and grumbled, “Got anything good?” 

Fuck. Last time you had food to offer them. “Not now,” you said, dashing to your feet away from Percy and pulling your sword from the packed dirt. “But after this I can get you anything you want!”

Percy laughed, possibly at your desperation, and started to lunge again as the skeletons deliberated and discussed whether they’d help you. 

“Oh my gods!” You shouted, blocking a strike and trying to throw one of your own. Percy seemed to dodge it with all the ease in the world. “Get your pussy asses out here and help me, you useless fucks, there’s good shit in it for you!”

They grumbled, but climbed out of the vein. Five skeletons, you counted as you hopped out of the way of Percy’s sword. “Okay!” You yelled. They were just standing there like assholes. “Fight him!”

The skeletons complied, but not before the apparent ring leader made a snide comment about your tone, claiming you had anger issues.

But the skeletons did fight for you, circling Percy and readying their firsts. They didn’t have weapons, and before you could yell at them to go to the rack, they were already attacking, flailing at Percy wildly. 

You were allotted a moment to catch your breath as Percy dealt with it. Even without weapons, they were doing an alright job, but Percy was quick to react and form a new strategy. He ducked out of their circle and beheaded one of them. The skeleton groaned out a complaint as the skull rolled towards you. 

You pursed your lips. Percy used every opportunity you gave him to strike, even if it was cheap. Your turn. You crept behind him as he dealt with your small army, and raised your sword.

But fuck, was Percy reactive. He turned on a dime and swept your leg, sending you tumbling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you with an oomf. Groaning, you rolled over on your side and wheezed out what was left of your breath, and did your best to suck in another.

”Oh, shit, Y/n, are you alright?” He asked quickly, kneeling down beside you and discarding his weapon. 

Before you could nod, the skeletons whacked him out of the way. Oh right. Percy was sent tumbling to the ground, completely unready for the attack.

He scrambled to grab his sword again, but with a little strength, you waved off your undead defenders. “It’s cool guys,” you wheezed, still in the ground.

They looked at each other dumbly. “Can we have our food now?”

You glared and coughed. “Not now, go back in the hole, I’ll get you later,” you spat.

They had a few complaints, but eventually crawled back in the hole, as requested. And Percy was right back at your side, sword gone, water bottle in hand and offering it to you. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, offering you a hand. You took it, and he pulled you up to a sit. “I got a little carried away,” he admitted, handing you the bottle.

He looked at you with concern in his eyes, and you coughed once more. Hopefully the last time. “I’m good,” you managed, shooting him a smile. Or at least trying to.

”Do you think you need to go to the infirmary?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your breath was already coming back, and other than that all you had were a few bruises. “It’s fine, really,” you said. 

He looked like he doubted you, but he said nothing, instead pressing his lips together, and slumping down to fully sit beside you. “I started to forget this was your first time fighting.”

You laughed, and it only hurt a little bit, “That means I must be pretty good, right?” You screwed open the cap of your water bottle, and took a drink. One gulp and you were suddenly aware of the dryness in your throat, and had to down half of it to quench yourself.

Percy smiled, a water bottle of his own in his hand. “Hey, you’re not bad for a newbie,” he laughed. “Sorry again. I can let you beat me to make up for it, if you want.”

You choked out a laugh, “You won’t have to let me next time, alright?”

He laughed. ”I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled, taking a swig of his water and wiping away sweat. “You really did hold your own.”

You nodded, unable to form words for a moment. You gasped for breath after choking a gulp of water. “Thank,” you heaved. “For helping. Couldn’t have survived more then a minute without you.”

He smiled softly, “it’s no problem.”

”You’re the only one to even try.” The bitterness from earlier was creeping back. Percy was a friend, now, you were certain. The only one. 

He pursed his lips, and looked at the ground. “Yeah…” he started. He looked like he had more to say, but seemed to trail off. 

“I appreciate the effort,” you said, lightly kicking the hilt of your sword. 

He nodded lamely, “It’s no problem, really.” He sighed, and looked around at the empty arena, and the trees and fields surrounding it. “I have some friends that’ll get to camp soon for summer, they’re school and… stuff… ends a week after mine,” he said, looking straight ahead. “They’re cool, you’ll get along. Not everyone is scared of a Hades kid.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “Uh, that’s good to hear,” you managed. “I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed by… everyone.”

He looked over at you, and you fought the urge to look away, like he caught you staring again. “They’ll come around when they realize you’re cool,” he assured. Then you had to look away, because your lips were being tugged up in an embarrassingly large smile. 

“I hope so,” you said timidly, smiling at your shoes.

Percy laughed, “People were weird around me, too, when I first came to camp,” he admitted, fidgeting with his pen. He twisted and spun it through his fingers, only occasionally dropping it. “Clarisse wanted to kill me, Annabeth was stalking me, a bunch of people were kinda scared of me? And I always had to sit alone at dinner.” He said, faint smile on his lips, like reminiscing. “It was a lot, I get what you’re going though… kind of.”

You nodded along with his story. “And… you managed to make friends with them anyway?” 

Percy laughed, “Well with Clarisse I’d say it’s still up in the air, but I guess we’re more friends then we are enemies nowadays.”

You smiled, staring at your shoes. “Well, that’s good,” you smiled softly. 

“The same thing will happen to you, done worry,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. You snickered at his touch, punching him right back. 

“If you say so,” you giggled. Your black shirt was damp with sweat, and stuck to your back. “I’ll try my best.”

He shook his head, “you won’t have to, they’ll like you as is.”

You heart fluttered a moment. You were really starting to get why people glared at you earlier, for spending so much time alone with this guy.  You smiled, doing your best to not feel awkward. “Thanks, Percy.”

He smiled, and stood up, dusting himself off and offering you a hand. Once again, you took it, and this time noticed his callouses, probably from years of this exact type of training. He had a strong grip. “Let’s say we’re done sword practice for today, okay?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your blade and bringing it back where you found it.

You walked together to the dining pavilion. You had actually worked up an appetite today. The place you felt so alone last night, you now approached with a friend, and the promise of a friend group. And you got a few more sceptical looks from other campers, but that all melted away when Percy would wave or snap a finger gun at them. 

And you realized your previous judgement was wrong. Camp Half Blood might not be so bad, and maybe you could feel okay. Despite the skeletons, this might have been the most normal day in a while. Maybe Camp Half Blood would be different. Not because of the place, the god overseeing it, or any of that. But because Percy was different. Apparently his friends to. 

You broke off from him to find your table and get a plate, and this time, didn’t feel too bad about staring at him. You realized that table was the Poseidon table. Definitely one of the big three gods. He caught you staring again, and this time he waved, and you glanced around. 

You got up, plate in hand and walked over. “Do we like, half to sit at our table, or…?” you asked, tilting your head side to side. You couldn’t help look at his food, all of which was blue.

He looked around, eyes wide, “Well it’s against the rules to sit at another one…” he said, looking at the other tables, many full. “But, like,” he said, “it’s not a rule I haven’t broken before.”

You smiled, sitting across from him, “good enough for me,” you shrugged. You got a few weird looks. Just a couple. But dinner was always better with a friend. This summer was looking to be a good one.  

I actually got this one done in like a single day,,, that’s not usual for me. *mwah*

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Metalhead!König at a festival

Tis the season – Festival season – SFW and NSFW

More Stuff in the Masterlist

(cw: alcohol/drugs, semi-public sex, smut, MDNI 18+)

On the way to the festival, I’m living the best passenger princess life, sitting beside him, navigating the GPS, feeding him snackies (he loves little brezels and gummyworms) and most importantly DJing the whole time while driving to the festival. Songs of all the bands we want to go see live are blasting from the speakers and when I start to sing along, König chimes in.

He has an old VW van T4 that he rebuilt himself, so that the back of it actually transforms into a quite comfy bed, one that even accommodates his size.

The trunk of the van is filled with gear and gadgets, there's nothing that he didn't think about.

A plastic pavilion to get a little bit of shade in the blistering summer sun. A camping table and two chairs (even though I don't know why he bothered to get me my own because he always coaxes me to sit in his lap) ((maybe that's why we have a second one because I don't think the small thing can withstand our combined weight for long)). A portable sound system. A bunch of hardware tools, a camping cooker and some equipment for it. Like for example the little espresso can because even at a festival the big guy needs his proper coffee (and not some kind of "instant crap" – his words).

At least I could hold him off from bringing our own beer tap because that would've been ridiculous.

And of course, he brought a grill, he would've even brought one if it weren't allowed.

I mean, he's Austrian and even though the neighbors from Germany are much more known for their fondness for grilling as soon as the temperatures rise over 10 degrees celsius, he still loves it.

I'm just rolling my eyes and laughing when he starts to light the coals pretty early in the morning. But I'm not complaining because he chooses to do so shirtless, showing off his broad muscled chest and the plethora of tattoos on his torso.

The black cargo shorts are hanging low on his hips, the belt holding them in place, the waistband of his boxershorts showing a little bit which accentuates the V of his hips. And don't even get me started on the happy trail leading down.

I'm ogling him shamelessly, sitting in my chair and making some coffee on the burner for us.

(He's also wearing some of his old combat boots, and he reassured me that the weird looking stains on them aren't actually blood. (I still don't believe him))

He looks like such a metalhead dad as he's standing at the grill, a beer in hand and just happily humming along to the melodies blasting from the speaker.

It makes me happy to see him like this because I don't know much about his work, he rarely talks to me about it and it has to be a burden, but right now he seems like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I catch him grinning at me, shaking the almost empty beer can and downing the last bit. I giggle, jump up and go get him a new one from the little freezer box.

With two fresh cans of beer, I stroll over to him, handing him one. His arm wraps around me and I can already see the mischief sparkling in his eyes as he's looking down on me. "Ex oder Franzos.", he tells me, taunting me. (He told me once what this means ‘either down your beer or you're french’ which apparently is an insult?? I don't know what the Austrians are on either)

"Nooo, I’m not gonna shotgun with you right now.", I wail.

"Oh, come on, it's just one beer.", he grins at me.

I put my hands on my hips, looking up at him all scolding. "Well, maybe one beer isn't a big deal for you, big guy." He just laughs and nonetheless drinks half his beer with one big gulp, the little show-off. Ever since he knows what a lightweight I am, he likes to tease me about it. Stupid big tall man.

The sun shines down like crazy which gives me the opportunity to apply sunscreen too him as often as I can.

"I get the feeling you're not doing this for the well-being of my skin.", he tells me, sideeyeing me while my hands move over his shoulders and pecs, making sure every inch is covered.

"I don't know what you mean.", I answer innocently, making him pull his hair out of the way with a nod, and moving on to his tattooed back, skimming over the smooth skin with my fingertips, massaging over the tense muscles.

When I'm finished, finally having applied enough sunscreen on the huge man, he snatches up the bottle, puts a little dollop on his hands and goes straight for my boobs.

"We can't have you getting a sunburn either!", he explains with a serious expression on his face while he shamelessly kneads my bikini-clothed breasts, in the name of sun protection.

Food in the stage area is expensive but that doesn't stop him from buying me everything I think looks good. I need to actually hold him off from getting another portion of the little pancakes because I'm so full, I feel like bursting and I still wanna be able to mosh.

"But what about some ice cream?", he suggests, pointing at a little cart in the vicinity. "It might help us cool a bit down."

I tilt my head to the side, thinking about it, but only for a moment. "Okay, I think there still is room for some ice cream.", I agree and we make our way in the direction of the ice cream vendor.

“Oh, wait, we need to get more water!”, I yell out as I see the water station. I pull him with me by his hand, filling our water bottles and then taking off my shirt to wet it.

“Now, what is this? Wet t-shirt contest?”, he asks with a dirty smile on his face, his eyes travelling down my body.

“Yeah, you wanna join?”, I ask him wiggling my brows, which makes him laugh and shed his shirt in a second. He lets water run over it as well and then wrings the shirt out over his body, the water dripping down his pecs and abs, and I can’t help but stare with a slack jaw. He laughs again when he sees the expression on my face, but he puts the shirt back on.

He pulls me into him, pressing a little kiss to my temple, our wet clothes sticking together. “Come on, let’s get you that ice cream, sweet cheeks.”, he says, giving my ass a few loving pats.

We try and go to as many bands as possible which is becoming quite the workout for me. By midnight my feet are already hurting like crazy and I make the mistake of mentioning it to König because he demands to carry me now. After some discussion, we come to the agreement that a piggyback ride would suffice.

So now I'm clinging to König's back, my muddy shoes dirtying his pants with the way my legs are hugging his hips. His arms are reaching back, the hands crossed under my ass supporting my weight.

Festivals can get pretty filthy but that doesn't stop him from trying to get into my pants. The solution to the filthyness? Going showering.

Most of the festivals I've ever been to don't actually separate between men's and women's shower, so that's not an issue when we slip into one of the cabins together. Still, some people around gave us funny looks.

It gets crowded in there even for two people, especially if one of the two is König. I press my body against his and squeal as he turns on the shower and we get doused with an icecold spray.

He just laughs, not fazed by it at all – duh, but I am someone who german-speaking would call a 'Warmduscher' (someone who likes to shower warm, which is meant as an insult).

His mouth finding mine shuts me up and wandering hands get rid of the dirt and grime on our bodies. I'm still washing away soapy suds while König's caresses drop lower and lower until his fingertips stroke over my pussy, finding my clit. I shoot him a look like "Seriously?! Right here and now?", but the corners of my mouth curl up. The knowing expression on his face doesn't waiver while he draws circles on the sensitive spot, getting me wet and needy for his fingers to slip inside me.

I hold onto him, my hands digging into his shoulders, as he pulls up one of my legs and finger-fucks me. The cold water is forgotten by now.

The palm of his hand pressing against the soft mound, stroking over the clit with every push inside me. His fingertips reaching that certain spot, brushing over it repeatedly, which has me gasping for air in no time. “Ja, fuck, come for me.”, he whispers against my lips. My thighs start to tremble, and moans escape my throat.

“You need to shut up, Liebes, or the people around us will know.”, he grunts, letting go of my leg and clasping the hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds. The realization that there’s other people in the cabins beside us, that the stalls aren’t anywhere near a soundproof barrier, that someone will probably hear the lewd sounds, the realization sends a zap of tingly arousal down my spine. His fingers move faster, hitting me deep inside, and I come around them screaming into his palm.

When my orgasm fades, I snuggle into him, and he holds me up pressing soft kisses to the top of my head and my face. He takes the camping bath towel he brought (you know, the ones that are microfiber and dry really fast? Of course, he has stuff like that) and starts to wrap me in it.

“Wait, what about you?”, I ask, still panting a bit, aware of his hard dick pressing against my belly.

“You’re already shivering wia a Lampe Schwoaf (like a lamb’s tail), we need to get you into the warmth again.”, he says, rubbing me down with the towel, the strokes of his big hands and the fabric tickling me a bit, which is making me giggle.

He leans down a bit, getting to my legs as well, still drying me off, and his eyes find mine, arousal and need glinting in them, a smirky grin forming on his face. “And don’t worry, I’m gonna get my fill of you later.”

In between bands, we’re sitting on the lawn, a little bit away from the stages. The sky is tinted in a rosy-orange blush, blending into the dark of the night that’s about to come. Even when I’m sitting on his thigh, I almost have to tilt my head back to look at him. He sees my little stare and smiles. “What?”, he asks.

I don’t break eye contact as I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”, he asks, seeming a little loopy.

I shrug, the smile on my face only getting wider. “I’m just happy to be here.” My hand reaches up to boop his nose, and the look on his face when he goes cross-eyed makes me laugh. “With you.”, I add, still giggling, feeling silly and honestly – a little lovey-dovey.

His smile matches mine as he grabs my face with his hand and plants a big kiss on my lips. “Me too, du Scherzkeks.”, he mumbles against my lips. (literally 'joking cookie', meaning jokester)

Straightening back up again, he eyes the joint in my other hand. “You still smoking that?”, he asks.

I shake my head and hand him the roach. He takes it and puffs the last bit of weed, inhaling deeply, holding in the breath. Before he can exhale, I grab his face with both my hands, pressing my lips to his. He chuckles, deepening the kiss, letting out the smoke as his tongue brushes against mine, and I taste him and the grassy fume.

We’re still sitting in the same spot an hour later, giggling with each other, sharing the biggest portion of fries we could find, while we listen to the music blasting from the stage speakers.

When we're back at the van, I fall into the mattress, bury my head into the pillow and groan as my body relaxes into the softness. My god, I will never be able to sleep on anything less comfortable when at a festival.

König's chuckle behind me makes me aware before his hands grasp my hips and pull them upwards. He pushes my pants down and his mouth into my pussy. I gasp into the sheets gripping them, squirming against his tongue, when he sloppily licks me, lapping at my wetness, dipping into my ass as well, until I’m making a total mess on his face.

He gets greedier, pulling out his dick and fucking me from behind, his fingers digging into my hips. The pace he’s going at makes the whole car shake, and somebody passing by could notice, but I'm counting on the darkness to conceal us, to hide what we're doing in the back of the van, especially when he flips us, and I’m on top now.

He's splayed out on the mattress looking up at me, satisfied smirk and hooded lids, as he grabs my wrists, securing them behind my back, and tells me to ride him. I whine and moan a little while I start moving up and down his length because the muscles in my legs are already aching from all the dancing, jumping and moshing, but his dirty ramblings spur me on: "Fuck, you feel so good, just like that." and "Harder, ride me harder." and “Ah, scheiße, i- that’s it, good fucking girl.”

He lifts up my shirt with the other hand and brings the fabric up to my mouth, gesturing me to bite into it. He pulls down the bikini top I’m still wearing underneath, freeing my boobs.

"Hm, such a little slut, getting fucked in the back of a van.", he murmurs, his eyes glued to my bouncing titties, while he fucks up into me, hitting spots deep inside me that pull obscene sounds from my throat. The little bit of fabric between my teeth can't damp them down. I try to hold onto the last bit of sanity, but then he pinches my nipple, hard, the sensations flowing over me, and I come on his dick, straining against his hold on me, shuddering while the orgasm wrecks through me.

My thighs are pressing together and König’s hands are the only thing that’s holding me up. While I’m still coming down, he pulls me against him. I sigh snuggling against his chest when he rolls us over.

“Oh no, Liebes, we’re not done yet.”, he chuckles, pushing into me again, his lips finding the sensitive spots on my neck.

A little ray of sunshine falls on my face through the window of the van, the early morning light making me open my eyes. I try to move to escape the brightness, but I can’t move my body. I turn my head and open my eyes, seeing König’s arm and legs draped over me, the big hand splayed out over my belly. Well, that explains it. The big guy is still sleeping, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space around us. He’s facing me, a relaxed expression on his face, his brows that always seem to be furrowed turned up a little bit. I don’t think I have seen him this peaceful yet.

My lips curl up into a smile and I reach out, cupping his cheek, softly stroking over his jaw, because I can’t help myself. Normally he shaves pretty often, a habit he picked up at the military, but somehow, he’s still always wearing a 5 o’clock shadow. Right now, the beard has developed into more of a longer stubble, a few grey hairs in between. And it looks good on him.

Suddenly he’s stirring in his sleep, his lids fluttering as he groans, the big hand moving up to his face to rub the eyes. A little huff escapes my nose and I greet him with a “Good morning, sleepy head”. He groans again because he can be a little ‘Morgenmuffel’ (a little grumpy in the mornings), but opens his eyes to look at me.

“Why are you so cheery this morning, hm?”, he asks me, still blinking the sleep away while a sly smirk is forming on his face. “Oh yeah, that’s right because I fucked you seven ways to Sunday on this mattress.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little grin on my face. “Yeah, yeah… If I can’t walk to the stages today, it’s your fault, old man.”, I taunt him.

His eyes light up with playful threat and he grabs me, rolling onto me. I yelp and giggle as his full body weight presses me into the mattress. “Keep running that mouth, Fräulein, and I’m gonna make sure of that.”, he says, his words a dirty promise.

a/n: this should have been a quick little fun drabble, but I got carried away - ah well, it happens <3

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building. I DO own my OC, Julian Arroco.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, verbal harassment, mentions of insecurities and abandonment, daddy issues, crying

A/N: IM BACK AND OFF MY HIATUS🥳🥳🥳

“Hey! Emo girl!”

You instantly felt your cheeks turn red. He wouldn’t leave you alone.

Instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, you continued walking towards the Big House. You had been summoned there by Chiron (who had sent Luke to convey the message), and didn’t want to be late.  

Though, if Julian Arroco kept hollering at you the way he had since he’d arrived at camp two days prior, you would be very late. It would take a significant amount of time to kill him and find Luke so he could help you hide the body. 

As you approached the large wooden building, you placed your right hand on the hilt of your weapon. If another word escaped his idiotic mouth, you would ensure he ended up in the infirmary. 

Just as your left boot made contact with the first step, you felt a rough, large hand grab your forearm.

“Don’t do this,” you warned, your tone almost disappointed, as if you were scolding a young child.

“Relax,” Julian said with a cocky grin. “Just wanna ask you a couple questions.”

You sneered at him, reveling in the slight fear that appeared in the son of Aphrodite’s eyes.  “Sure you do. Now get lost.”

“I’m not afraid of you, emo girl-“

“I have a name-“

“You don’t scare me at all,” Julian continued, completely ignoring you. “Everyone thinks you’re intimidating, but you really aren’t. I bet you’re all soft and pathetic on the inside, hm? Seems like it doesn’t take much to get under your skin.”

Tugging your arm out of his disgusting grasp, your wings appeared, giving you a larger, more terrifying silhouette. Julian backed away, his muscular, conventionally attractive body cowering before you. 

You gave him a twisted smile. “You’re right, Julian. I am very easily provoked, and having brainless idiots follow me around and harass me all day really gets on my nerves. And I’m sure that you’ve heard the rumors about my “weird, horrifying death powers”. You don’t want to find out if they’re true, do you?” 

“N-No.”

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. Now leave me alone, or I’ll tell Luke to target you during the next round of Capture the Flag.”

“Of course,” Julian scoffed. “You’ll go running for your man to protect you. Just like a girl-“

His lips froze mid-sentence when you raised your hand, the tips of your fingers pointing towards his throat. 

“I don’t know everything you’ve heard about me,” you began slowly. “But if you’re really that interested in my life, let me start with this: yes, I can kill without even laying hands on my opponent. Want a demonstration?“

“Please,” Julian whimpered. “I’m sorry, I swear by the gods that I’ll leave you be.”

You tilted your head. You briefly debated the benefits and consequences of hurting him, and decided that it was worth it.

But before you could act on your decision, you heard the doors of the Big House open behind you. 

“What’s going on here?” Chiron’s tone was apprehensive, yet it lacked any fear. After living for thousands of years, he had seen much more terrifying sights.

“She just started attacking me, sir-“

“That’s bullshit,” you snapped. “You’ve been harassing me ever since you crossed the camp border.” 

“Enough,” Chiron said firmly. “Julian, go back to the dining pavilion where the rest of your siblings are. I have an important matter to discuss with this young lady here, who you should not be treating so disrespectfully.”

Julian gave you a scathing look, but turned on his heel and walked away, his fists clenched at his sides.

Chiron looked down at you, his face softening ever-so slightly.

“Come, my child,” he said ominously, beckoning for you to follow him inside. “We must get this conversation started before you miss too many activities.”

.

.

.

You left the Big House even more angry than you entered it.

Out of all the things you expected the conversation to be about, “trying to blend in better with the other campers” hadn’t even entered your mind.

You’d tried so hard for years to fit in. To become a normal demigod (or as normal as a demigod could be, anyway) and get along well enough with those around you. It became much harder to do so after returning from the quest, but you still put effort into being at least agreeable. And it seemed like most people didn’t mind you, despite your darker demeanor and closed-off nature. 

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Some campers had been genuinely disturbed by you of late. And though it wasn’t your fault in the slightest, you were being forced to change.

It simply wasn’t fair.

And even worse, you held none of the blame. Your father was responsible for it.

But because he was a god, he’d never face the consequences.

With every step you took, the grass and flowers withered and turned grey around your feet. You didn’t care that other people were staring. 

You just wanted to find your boyfriend.

You spotted him sitting on a stone bench with Chris, chatting casually. As soon as he looked up and saw you, his relaxed posture stiffened. He stood up and walked towards you briskly, instantly placing a hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“We need to go somewhere more private,” you hissed. “Or I’m going to scare everyone else.”

Luke’s brow furrowed with confusion, but he didn’t question you. You practically dragged him towards Cabin 11, not even bothering to see who was watching.

Once you’d reached the clearing behind the Hermes cabin, you told Luke everything. How Chiron had stopped you from hurting Julian, and what he’d said once you were in his office. The longer you talked about it, the angrier you got. 

“That makes no fucking sense,” Luke said, bewildered. “You’ve been here basically your entire life, and he’s just now trying to force you to conform because it’s bothering a couple of cowardly half-bloods?” 

You nodded stiffly, trying not to show that it was getting to you. You didn’t want to place that burden on him, not after everything else he’d been through of late.

But the tears sprung to your eyes anyway. 

Luke sighed, pulling you into his arms instantly. 

“Hey, listen to me,” he said. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t need to change, even though someone’s trying to force you to. If people are bothered by your existence, well, that’s their fuckin’ problem.”

“Everyone was fine until we came back from our quest,” you lamented. “Sure, I understand why my abilities may be off-putting, but I’m not trying to hurt anyone by just existing! Why don’t they understand that?” 

“Because they’re idiots,” Luke answered. “They judge you before they get familiar with you, which is unfair. But those who do know you well love you.” 

You sniffled, clinging to him like a vice. “But if I don’t change, people are going to keep complaining Chiron, and-“

“Don’t pay any attention to them. It’s not worth it,” he said firmly. 

With a sigh, you nodded slightly. “I know, I know…I just get so angry when people bother me for no apparent reason. It makes me want to leave this place, even though I know the outside world is so much more dangerous.”

Luke went silent for a moment. 

“Maybe one day, we’ll find a life for ourselves far away from here,” he began, running his fingers through your hair soothingly. “Forget about who our parents are, and spend the rest of our days living like mortals.”

“We’d be hunted constantly,” you pointed out bitterly. “I attract too many monsters. We’d never live a peaceful, domestic life.”

“Let’s not focus on the hypotheticals then,” Luke said. “Let’s focus on what we can do to help you right now. Don’t listen to anything that Chiron said, okay? He thinks that trying to be more like the others will make you happier, but he doesn’t know you like I do. Forcing yourself to be someone else will only make you feel more miserable. And remember, you have good friends who love you for the way you are, like Annabeth and Chris. And, of course, you have me.”

You gave him a small smile. “Okay.” 

Luke took your hand. “Good. Now, let’s go get something to eat.“

With that, you and Luke walked to the dining pavilion hand-in-hand. You were still slightly upset, but for now, you were going to try to let it go. 

Howrver, you couldn’t help but start to plot revenge against Julian Arroco. 

Little did you know that both of you had revenge running across your minds. 

________________________________________________

Wringing out your hair with a towel, you internally lamented about the humidity in the air. The gods were able to manipulate the weather within the camp borders in order to maintain the ideal temperature, but it never felt quite right to you. Perhaps it was because your body temperature was unusually low. You’d always assumed it was an inherited trait from your father.

And you never wanted to meet him, so you were content with never confirming it.

Carefully folding up your towel, you slid on your  sandals and exited the bathroom. You had always hated sharing showers with the other campers. It felt like a huge intrusion on your privacy, and the water was often lukewarm, leading to a less-than-enjoyable experience.

The outside world may invite monsters to kill you at every waking moment, but at least it had decent showers.

Ever since Luke had planted the idea of leaving camp for good in your head earlier, it had been the sole focus of your thoughts. What would life be like with him outside of Camp Half-Blood? Would you be able to find some resemblance of a normal life and escape the stigma that surrounded you? Or would you endure different kinds of prejudice, and never truly feel safe in public? 

You knew it was useless thinking about it so profoundly. Realistically, you knew wouldn’t be leaving camp any time soon.

But that did nothing to stop you from fantasizing. 

.

.

.

Luke fell almost instantly that night, ready for a full night of rest. 

But while Luke slumbered soundly, his head resting on your chest, you were wide awake. 

Though your body was exhausted, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. You’d never been so tempted to pack up your things and leave camp forever. But you wouldn’t ever just abandon Luke like that. After being abandoned and neglected by his father, you knew that it would destroy him.

The only solution would be for him to come with you.

And you weren’t sure that he would want to. He wouldn’t want to leave behind his siblings, or Annabeth. Nor would he enjoy being homeless again, like he was for five years of his childhood. 

So you would stay at camp. For Luke. Because you couldn’t imagine life without him. 

Closing your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh. Worrying about this was futile. You needed rest, desperately. 

You allowed your muscles to relax, and your limbs suddenly felt like lead.

You were teetering on the edge of sleep when Luke jolted violently in your arms, and sat up abruptly. 

His eyes were frantic, and they were brimming with frightened tears. When his pupils met yours, you knew that something was incredibly wrong.

“Hey,” you whispered soothingly. “I’m here, Luke. It was just a dream, you’re okay.” 

Luke shook his head vehemently. 

“I-It wasn’t. Someone…Someone spoke to me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Was it your father bothering you again? I swear, I’ll march up to Olympus and tell him to-“

“It wasn’t him,” Luke cut you off. His breath was shaky, so you took his hand in an attempt to calm him.

“Who was it then? Zeus? Hades? The Fates?”

He shook his head again.

“Please,” you begged. “Please tell me. I can’t help you if you hide it from me.”

There was a heart-wrenching pause. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Luke spoke.

“It was Kronos, King of the Titans.”

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Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments!!!

I have been INCREDIBLY busy recently, but my life is finally getting back to normal. I’m going to start posting more frequently, but I may update a little slower than I used to :))

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[venusandsaturnsrings]

★彡 confetti!

synopsis: it's his birthday! how will you spend the day together? a combination of sweet moments and depraved behaviour, naturally.

contains: 2.4k words of nonsense, fem/afab reader, implied chubby reader, p in v, and mushy romance.

between the plush blankets of your shared bed, lay you and your most beloved boyfriend. sunlight filtered through the windows to gently rest on the features of his face. ginger hair glowing, nose highlighted, and scars visible, you thought he looks most handsome in these vulnerable moments. should the world come collapsing at this exact second you don't think you'd mind with his beautiful face your last sight. his breathing was still slow and drool slipped past the corner of his mouth. you smiled and placed a feather light kiss to his nose before carefully removing yourself from the bed. Ajax is a light sleeper, to put it gently, but you've become well versed in the act of getting up without disturbing him; this came in handy for days like this. you shuffled to the bathroom to wash your face before tiptoeing to the kitchen.

with your best attempt at working in silence, you got to the task of making a birthday breakfast. you had taken the liberty to do some preparations the evening before, shooing Ajax out of the kitchen. with a handful of jams imported from Snezhnaya and recipes borrowed from his mother, you successfully got together a more than satisfactory meal. rye bread, cheeses, raspberry jam, and the star of the show, fresh plushki. the plushki were the most difficult part but the adorable heart shape of the pastries had you swooning already. with the kitchen smelling firmly of cinnamon and fruit, you carefully made your way back to the shared bedroom to rouse your still sleeping boyfriend.

his face was just as beautiful as when you first woke. kneeling on the bed, you peppered kisses all over his cheeks and chest until he groaned and let out a gruff chuckle. eyes finally cracking open, he gave you a lazy smile as he drew you in for a proper morning kiss. your hands brushed some stray orange tufts from his face to softly smooth over his skin with tenderness that could rival that of your own heart.

"good morning, 'Jax. happy birthday," you mumbled out with lips still brushing against his. he smiled wider, if even possible, and kissed you again.

"thanks, doll. if my nose doesn't mistake me, i smell something delicious coming from downstairs." cheeky as always but also starving, you giggled while humming in confirmation. the lighthearted compliment had you swooning once more. if you weren't already head over heels for him, you would be now. something about his vulnerably playful demeanor that only you and his family got to see had your stomach doing flips. you are just as special to him as he to you.

tugging him gently out of bed you lost count of the kisses shared already this morning. his lips never seemed to be able to leave yours for longer than a couple seconds but you certainly didn't mind. part of any good birthday was laying on the affection thick and syrupy. hand in hand, you took him down to the dining area adjacent to the kitchen where all of the treats were already lain out and his arms threaded around your waist with a sigh. Ajax nuzzles his head into your neck appreciatively before sitting down in the chair across from yours, only after pulling out the one for you to sit on, and surveyed the spread. it didn't take long for him to scarf down what you had prepared moaning over the taste of everything in his mouth happily. with your hand on one of your palms you explained the days agenda: enjoying this brunch, meandering the city, having dinner at Liuli Pavilion, and coming home to relax for the evening. he nodded along agreeably to everything, happy to release the reins for a day.

the day went smoothly. while out in the streets, you made sure to pay for all of the little trinkets picked up though you couldn't stop him from beating you to paying for dinner. in part you were upset considering it was his birthday but you also knew paying would leave you out of money for the next month at the very least. over the array of dishes picked out, you slid him a small box; his present. Ajax flushed a little bit, still unused to being so spoiled for once but he gently pulled the ribbon off of the quaint box to remove the lid and see just what you had gotten him. if there's one thing you learned while being together with the harbinger, its that he'd notoriously hard to shop for. every question would be met with some variation of him already having everything he could want or to not worry about a gift since you were enough but you couldn't possibly let his birthday pass without at least one gift. inside the box lay a small locket, one adorned with small jewels of archaic stone on the outside and upon opening it revealed two pictures on each side. on the left, a photo taken on your very first date together. on the right, a picture of the both of you surrounded by his family on the previous Christmas you had gone back to visit them. the locket was small enough that it could fit under his shirt no problem so he could keep a little piece of you and his family with him everywhere he went. Ajax practically leapt across the table to plant kisses all over your face, eyes watering up slightly though he excused it as simply being due to the spiciness of the food. he’s never been a good liar when it comes to you but you pretend to believe him anyways for the sake of his pride.

if you asked Ajax, he'd tell you every birthday was his best. celebrations and praise usually went straight to his head but there was always something more tender about birthdays or international holidays. he'd take anything he could get in terms of affection from you and his family, lord knows he needs it, but he was never greedy. Ajax let you lathe it on at your own pace and relished in the gradual nature of it all. the lead up was always his favourite when it came to violence or work so it only made sense he enjoyed it the same in relationships but you weren't going to oppose the slow moments in an otherwise turbulent life.

as the sun rested on the west horizon, you gently laced your fingers with his to slide off the glove on his own. with practiced movements you played gently with the long appendages. up, down, and around in circles, you knew his hands got no breaks regardless of the task at hand. a gentle peck graced your temple at the comforting actions so you lifted the hand to place a kiss on each knuckle while continuing to smooth over the calloused skin. with languid motions you soon found yourselfs back at the small house you both called 'home' though it felt temporary. Ajax always promised that one day you'd move back to Snezhnaya with him and he'd have a huge mansion built to live out your days in. typically dramatic of him, you'd laugh along aware of the sliver of truth his words held. perhaps not a mansion, that isn't quite your speed, but a real home. somewhere you could both come to and really feel safe. you savoured his silly promises for what they were, promises, regardless of the over-the-top nature. a home with him always sounded nice. he only moved his hand from yours to retrieve the keys from his pocket to open the front door.

once closed and locked, his arms wrapped around your midsection with a hum. you chuckled lightly as you tilted his head towards yours to admire the soft smile adorning his features. 'bright' is how you'd describe him to anyone in this moment. morbid but, should you be confronted with a nearly gone victim of his debt collection and they asked how you could possibly love someone like him, you'd tell them he's bright. with hair like the sun, eyes like the moon, and freckles like the stars, he was your whole universe packed tightly into the body of a young man. his face softens in your presence in a way that it doesn't for anyone else, even his family. you're well aware there's still some tension between him and his parents but he doesn't melt like that even for his younger siblings. he's fondue in your hands and even more so as you tug him back to where the day started; the bedroom. his laugh was almost devilish at the realization of what exactly was about to happen but you only laughed with him. your hands barely left him all day so could this truly come as a surprise? besides, it's his birthday after all. the occasion calls for it!

Ajax was never good at keeping his hands to himself and that always shined brightest when he was desperately tugging your clothes off. fingertips moving underneath your shirt to pull it over your head in one clean movement before quickly falling to unzip your skirt and pull it past your hips. his hands lingered on the plush flesh, giving it generous squeezes and mumbling praise of your softness against your lips. saliva stringed between your mouths as he moved down to suck bruises onto the column of your throat, teeth grazing and biting the way he knew would have you keening. your own hands moved to unbutton his gratuitous amount of jackets and shirts with a slight scoff over just how much he was always wearing; the complications annoyed you but not enough to make you truly upset. you fumbled around with his belt long enough that he undid it himself, pulling it free with a quick flick of his hand and throwing it with a sharp clatter on the floor. 'that hardwood is expensive,' you briefly thought but the way he scooped you up to throw you down in the bed trashed all complaints. the air was knocked out of you but no faster than Ajax was on top of you again and tugging at your undergarments. a pretty blue set with ruffles and lace that complimented the curves of your body and matched the shade of his eyes. leaning down, he smiled while pulling the straps of your bra off with his teeth in true Ajax fashion; always a show-off. his boney fingers played with the hem of your panties as you shoved his pants and boxers down to expose the most vulnerable parts of his body which also happened to be the parts you were most eager to see and touch.

"so impatient today, aren't we?" he whispered teasingly though he was just as desperate as you. you hummed softly in agreement, pulling his head back up to you as to bite on his lower lip and slide your tongue into his mouth. Ajax accepted it with a slight groan but made sure to nip your tongue with sharp canines as you pulled back panting. he has always liked to hear you whine and you were never one to deny him such simple pleasures. once parted he took to fully ridding you of the pesky undergarments and throwing them in the general direction as his belt had been before he grabbed the back of your knees and folded you till they touched your ears. you had originally intended on spoiling him tonight but it seemed he was more inclined to be the one taking rather than receiving and you had no qualms with that. he spit sharply into his hand, letting the saliva coat his cock just enough so that the burn would be easier. Ajax has a pretty dick to put it lightly. pale with a ruddy tip, a slight upwards curve, and tight balls though his pelvis was unshaven. the head was always quick to start leaking and that was one of your favourite things for when you got to suck it all away but your thought were soon put to rest as he eased him self inside with a strained groan and a muttered curse. it was always a slight struggle to get him in at first considering his length but once you got used to it the curvature of his dick had you seeing stars. his forehead rested on yours as you panted in time with one another until the pain subsided and he was free to start thrusting eagerly inside of you. in an almost perfect harmony, the pair of you moaned at the first back and forth of his hips. the hair at his base rubbed against your clit just perfectly and you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his well built biceps.

“‘jax… so fuckin’ good to me…” your words were slurred from the incessant thrusts he delivered to the depths of your cervix but he got the point. his lips travelled across your face, neck, and chest to ensure a stream of bruises would be left visible for days to come. with your legs still pushed back, Ajax managed to weasel his unoccupied hand between you both to rub and pinch rapidly at your slightly neglected clit, reviling in the desperate whimpers you gave out. it wasn’t long till his movements turned sloppy and the hand on your soaked cunt moved more desperate; he was close but never one to finish before you. he tilted his hips to press higher and directly hit just where you wanted over and over until you cried and came undone just for him. the right squeezes of your insides had him spilling not long after, head falling with a groan onto your chest and hips stuttering till they stilled. you were the first to come to, threading fingers through his hair and telling him just how good he always is to you. he grabbed the hand off his head and placed kisses to your knuckles much like you did to his earlier in the day and nuzzled his nose to your palm.

“shower time?” he questioned, voice still low as if he could possibly startle you.

“shower time,” you agreed, “happy birthday, handsome. i love you so much, Ajax.” so he kissed you again. and again. and again and again and again until you feared your lips would go numb but with his love warming you, it would never be possible.

[certaincollectionlandblog]

A Disney Trip with Mick Schumacher

- I am very much convinced that Mick would greatly enjoy Disney World - He is literally a walking Disney prince - If you had ever gone to Disney before or were a Disney gal he would trust you completely with the planning - Mick's favorite park is probably Magic Kingdom or Hollywood Studios - I feel like he would get mouse ears or those baseball hats that have the Mickey ears on them heck, maybe even one of those sorcerer Mickey hats - Mick + Dole whips = a love stronger than superglue - He is constantly pulling you around wanting to show you things he sees - "Y/N did you see that little girl dressed as Elsa? I can't wait till we have some of our own" - Mick is the type of man that if he saw a mom struggling to get her stroller onto the Monarail, boat, bus, skyliner, or whatever you know he is going to help - Gets a map in every park even though you tell him he doesn't need one because you know your way around - Loves turning on the TV when y'all get back from the parks for a break or even for the night and just snuggling up with you - He gets recognized while you guys are stopped getting candy apples and you offer to take the picture - "You know that's what I love about you" "What?" "You don't care if I'm with you when fans see me because you're so caring you want them to be happy too and I know I am so lucky to have a girl with the sweetest heart" - You attempt to drink around the world at Epcot and Mick has to carry you back to by the time you reach the France pavilion - "Babe do you think I can eat four churros at once?" - Mick definitely has a mild breeding kink because after all he is a huge family man so let's just say seeing all those families around and you in your happy place he is dragging you back to the hotel many times during the trip - I need to see this man hug Donald Duck, it's a bucket list item - You would be sending his mom all the photos you guys take - He wraps his arms around during the fireworks - You make an off handed comment about wishing they had they new Figment hoodie in your size only to come back to the hotel room later that night to find it waiting for you, you know Mick had something to with it - You love going on the Peoplemover with him and just taking in tomorrowland - Mick isn't huge on PDA, but he loves holding your hand as you drag him through the crowds to get where you're going - He giggles like a kid while riding the Dinosaur ride with you in Animal Kingdom - You bend down for two seconds to tie your shoe lace and somehow he has a mickey bar in his hands already

~Instagram~

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liked by carlossainz55, F1wagsupdates, yourbestfriend, and 416 others

yourinstagram My favorite boy in my favorite place

*disclaimer: all photos are from Pinterest

[razberryyum]

EVERY DAY IS EVERY DAY

Manhua artist Mao Tuan Xiao Jian Jian-laoshi serves up the last part of WangXian's papapa scene from chap 111 of the novel (what would've been chap 256 if the world was a perfect place). Go to their Twitter @maotuanxjj for all the missing goodies 🍆 and to send them some love.

Missing 🍆

🔥🔥🔥

Again, I love this sexy gremlin so much 😭😭

Hornee Lan Zhan is adorable.

😭😭😭💖

And that's it for WangXian's first full papapa scene! There are of course more ppp scenes in the extras chapters of the novel...the most famous of them ofc courtesy of the Incense Burner (WangXian's wonderful adventures in the Library Pavilion and Bichen's amazing journey up Wei Ying's 💮, for example), but again that's not ALL that the extras are about! They're really the happily ever after moments of WangXian and a lot of it is so freaking sweet and romantic! And while their dreamworld sexcapades may get a bit too adventurous for some, they're all bourne from their immense love and healthy lust for each other and we should all hope that we are blessed with what they have. Not to mention, one of the extras even gives us a flashback involving Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang, so again, it's not all just about the sex so don't be misled into skipping them!

Mao Tuan XJJ-laoshi has already illustrated the Incense Burner Library Pavilion scene a while back but I do hope they will continue with illustrating the Gusu Lan banquet extra and all the other extras in this unofficial way. I am deeply saddened that because this is all unofficial we will never see these scenes as a part of the official English release of the manhua, but I hope everyone will still support the Eng volumes by purchasing them, as a way of showing our support for MXTX-laoshi.

To purchase English releases of all of MXTX's novels, go to Sevenseasdanmei.

[kitty-is-writing]

📝 in the mood to post a short story today 📝

this one is called Reunions, set in the same world as my novels are, as the old gods are returning from their centuries of slumber.

- Reunions -

“Hello brother.”

The unexpected greeting startled Ralor-Kanj out of his meditation. His eyes snapped open, immediately fixing on the barrel-chested man leaning against his doorframe.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” the visitor continued.

Ralor stood. “What do you want?”

The visitor gave a mocking pout. “Aw, nearly four centuries trapped in another realm and you can’t even pretend you’re pleased to see me? I’m hurt, dear brother.”

“What do you want, Chaos?” Ralor asked again.

“Ooh, I do like it when you call me that... so much more fitting than the name Mother gave, right Order?”

Ralor took a step forward, one hand twitching towards his sword. “Don’t make me ask you again.” The sword flashed as it zoomed from its place on the wall to his hand.

Chaos smirked. “I just want a little fun. Do you have any idea how dull it was, stuck in Nowhere for three hundred and eighty nine long years? You should have known Mother’s little ritual couldn’t keep me there forever, especially after she messed up and lost her following. I suppose that was why she went and made you, wasn’t it? She knew I’d find a way back eventually and thought you’d be able to keep me in line,” he taunted.

Losing his patience, and riled by the other god’s taunts, Ralor slashed at him with the sword. “Get out!”

Chaos vanished in a flash of sickly yellow light, the blade missing him by a split second, and reappeared behind Ralor’s desk. “You’ve had your turn, dear brother. Now it’s mine,” he said, a wicked smirk on his lips as he flicked the end of the golden scales. Another flash of light, and he was gone.

Ralor dropped the sword and reached to steady the see-sawing scales, only to be repulsed by a sharp jolt of electricity. As he shook the numbness from his arm, staring at them as they yawed wildly on their pivot, a strangled yell came from the pavilion. Thinking Chaos had wrought yet more of his namesake already, he willed himself there, expecting to find pandemonium.

Instead, the pavilion seemed as calm and peaceful as ever, except for Vrenid-Malchor. Where the Creator usually sat upon his throne, now he knelt on the floor, clutching his head and groaning in apparent pain. Talri-Pekra was already kneeling at his side, looking more concerned than Ralor had ever seen her. “What’s happening?” he asked her, hoping the goddess of knowledge would know something about it. She looked up at him, and he could almost see her mind forming and discarding ideas at blinding speed, but she said nothing.

“It’s started,” came a voice from behind them. Ralor turned to see Dranj-Aria, watching the Creator with a strange expression.

“What’s started?”

She kept her gaze on the kneeling god, slowly approaching as she answered. “They’re coming back. The lost ones were returning, and he’s going to break apart.” She drew level with Ralor, and turned to face him. “It’s a shame to see him go, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t pleased to see my sun again.”

“Returning... all of them?” Ralor asked. “So it’s not just Chaos, they’re all coming back?”

Talri-Pekra jumped up from the floor. “Chaos is back? When did that happen?”

“He just showed up in my domain, taunted me a bit and unbalanced the scales,” he said.

The three were silent for a moment, considering the implications of that. Each of them knew that Ralor-Kanj’s golden scales were linked to the balance within the mortal world, and whatever happened to one would affect the other.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a drawn-out scream from Vrenid-Malchor, and they turned to face him again. “Is there anything we can do for him?” Talri-Pekra shouted.

“No, but we needed to be here for the others. They’ll be confused and need our help after they split,” Dranj-Aria replied.

Cracks appeared in the kneeling god’s skin, and a blinding light shone through. His screaming continued without pause, and Ralor shut his eyes, wishing that someone could at least ease his pain. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, and the entire pavilion was saturated with a pure white glow for a second. Once the light faded, the three standing could make out four forms lying on the floor, clustered around the spot Vrenid-Malchor had been moments before.

One, a dark-skinned woman wearing a clingy, web-like dress of some golden material, stirred faintly and groaned. A stocky, brown-haired man wearing hunter’s garb slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, and squinted around the place. Another man, tanned and tall with broad shoulders, simply lay on the floor staring upwards. The fourth, a younger man with pale skin and rather fluffy auburn hair, was the first on his feet, and stumbled into Dranj-Aria’s arms. “Mum,” he whispered as she caught him.

She held him close, stroking his hair flat and murmuring words of comfort into his ear. “Call the others. They needed to know what’s happening,” she told Ralor-Kanj.

“Does this mean I’ll get to see my mum again too?” came a little voice from behind them.

Ralor turned to see Aikra-Lora standing there, eyeing the four newly-reformed gods. “Yes, I suppose it does. Would you stay a moment and help these three? I need to fetch the rest,” he said.

She nodded, and made her way across to the woman on the floor. “You must be Venri. Mum told me a lot about you before she went away.”

Venri sat up, gently encouraged by the youngster. “Your mum... Alrin-Fora, yes, I remember her. You... Aikra-Lora, you were even littler the last time I saw you,” she said slowly. “What happened? The last thing I remember was being pulled here against my will...”

“We all got merged together,” said the man still lying on the floor. “Forced into one being by the humans, because their beliefs changed. “You, me, Alch, and Renir over there,” he waved towards the stocky man who Talri-Pekra was speaking softly to. “I remember... there are flashes, bits of the last few years... how long has it been?”

“Almost two centuries now, Chor,” came a leaden voice. Fakro-Umdar had arrived in the pavilion. “When Ralor said you had all returned, I wasn’t certain I believed it. I suppose this means the rest will be back soon?”

Dranj-Aria nodded. “They all started coming back the day Vrenid-Malchor broke apart. Of course, someone already woke Rolar-Triak a few months ago...”

“Chaos is back?” all except Talri-Pekra exclaimed.

“Uh-huh, weren’t you following the mortal drama last year? They’d started up old cults again, the Mistress and Chaos, plenty were already worshipping Alrin-Fora again, so she was back a couple of weeks from now, if I remember right; I think even old Baltakor started getting a following again and rejoined us soon,” Dranj-Aria said. “You really should keep up with the mortals more, you might have a better idea what was going on.”

A grating laugh rang through the pavilion. “I know, right? Did you see the dragon battles over Tewen a few months back? So much glorious pain, so many grieving families,” Somri-Galin said, an ecstatic smile on his lips.

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about that,” said Ralor, returning behind the god of suffering. “I know it’s your thing, but still,” he jerked his head towards Aikra-Lora and the newly returned gods. “A little sensitivity now and then would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don't be such a killjoy. Besides, haven't you got a wayward brother to go chasing after?”

Ralor-Kanj tipped his head back, eyes closed in exhaustion as he mumbled to himself. “He’s only been back five minutes and I’m sick of him already. I suppose he is my responsibility though,” he sighed as he turned to the rest. “If the others are returning, someone will have to be here at all times to welcome them back. I suggest we take it in turns, and keep watch for those more likely to cause harm. You know the ones I mean.”

“We shall watch for our brother, and keep him in check as we always have,” came the leaden tones of Fakro-Umdar. He stalked over to Somri-Galin and clapped a not entirely friendly hand on his shoulder. “I am, of course, what follows them both. Sometimes they need reminding of that fact.”

Ralor nodded. Of the three – war, suffering and death – Fakro-Umdar was the most reasonable, if only because he lacked the others’ impatience. He also had some degree of control over their more sadistic impulses, which Ralor could respect even if he didn’t like it much. “I will take care of Chaos, and Mother if she also decides to rejoin us.”

“When can we expect them to begin arriving?” Talri-Pekra said, turning towards Dranj-Aria.

The time goddess grinned. “It wasn’t that simple. Some of them are going to appear elsewhere, and others didn’t remember what they were, so couldn’t have come here until one of us goes to find them. Then of course, the others interfered, and there’ll be the old deal to consider. You needed to figure out how that thing works,” she pointed over to the vision orb Vrenid-Malchor had so closely guarded, now dark and empty as its master was no more. “Once you got it up and running again, it’s going to be simple to keep track of who’s returning and where. Off to your library, Talri,” she wiggled her fingers.

Talri-Pekra vanished so abruptly that the air currents ruffled everyone’s hair. Renir, who she had been talking to, gravitated towards Chor and the two began talking quietly. From the snatches of conversation that drifted across the pavilion, Ralor-Kanj thought they were trying to separate who’s memories of the last couple of centuries were whose. Aikra-Lora disappeared with Venri, talking about Wirba and Astator, while Dranj-Aria settled onto a puffy chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago, catching her son Alch up with recent events. With things at least vaguely under control for now, he left the pavilion himself to begin searching for his brother. There would be no point in trying to restore any semblance of balance to anything until Chaos was contained once more.

[stromuprisahat]

Siege and Storm- Chapter 20

Once upon a time I've encountered an opinion Malyen's fighting Grisha for Alina. So he can defend her better. Let's see!

According to Tamar, he isn't there to learn to fight powered opponent!

That said, there had to be some sort of training for such situations- physical fight against summoning Grisha. Not every Grisha has to be friendly, and even another Grisha can't always rely on their powers. Was Botkin in charge of those too? Did they take place in Summoners' Pavilion, rather than the training room by stables?

Yup!

Totally about boosting his ego, regaining popularity, becoming the centre of everyone's attention... Malyen might claim he misses purpose (So much for "You're my nation, flag, whatever...."), but his actions speak otherwise. It's a spotlight he craves. Or better THE spotlight.

Disgusting. I'd despise Malyen even if he weren't hindering Alina's development.

Enjoying ourselves, aren't we?!

I don't mind characters enjoying violence, hell, I can understand it! Just... make them honest also. And consider, who are their usual targets. When you make it a matter of bigotry and possessive sexism, I won't be cheering FOR them.

Yup!

Here it is.

For Malyen, it's not about exertion or pleasure of defeating stronger opponent. It's about humiliating Grisha (and being cheered on for it).

This is the man "cleansed" Alina will spend the rest of her life with. Alone, surrounded by HIS allies.

Do you see the horror yet?!

Every disgusting witch he hates so much?

See- it's about the show...

I saw him go rigid. That might be only surprise, but even if he DIDN'T want to kiss Zoya in the beginning, he CHOSE to return the kiss. And why wouldn't he? He's the victor, isn't he? All of the world lies by his feet, just as it should be.

If only he didn't get caught...

[pastelcheckereddreams]

Four Seasons Manor (四季山庄): Set Layout, Part Three!

This is the third and final post detailing my set sleuthing adventure, looking for the sets that make up Word of Honor's Siji Manor. If you're stumbling over this post in the wild - hi! I draw architectural drafts of cdrama sets, as accurately to the show as I can. A huge amount of research goes into creating my art, and so far no set location has been as elusive as this one.

Split across two sets - one located in Hengdian World Studio's Spring and Autumn Tang Park, and the other in Hengdian's Huaxia film studio - this post is the final part uncovering the layout of Siji Manor. (And nothing will make sense if you read this post first, go back to part one and part two!!)

A reminder, before we dive right back into the breakdown of my completed birdseye view, that this last part will cover the main courtyard of what I have dubbed the "interior" Siji set, highlighted in red below:

Let's dive in!

project list | kofi | prints

The Main Courtyard

The main hall (6), the largest building in this set, is what I and @minnarr, who shares my brainrot 🙏 and has been a great help in this process, have been calling "Everlasting."

This is because sign over the entrance reads, "萬古長青" (wàn gǔ cháng qīng), which to my layman's knowledge translates as "Everlasting and Evergreen," an idiom that can be extrapolated to mean "forever green throughout the ages," which describes a noble spirit or deep friendship that will last forever, like an eternal Springtime:

In the above screenshots, you can see that Chengling's training area (9) is set up in front of this main hall, and over his head in the third picture, you can just about see the moon window that is a feature of WKX's room.

Importantly, the pavilion (10) just about seen behind Chengling's training area, marks a de facto boundary for this set as it appears in WOH, as the camera angles of these episodes never never stray past it. For a long time - until I began to watch Mysterious Lotus Casebook and Heroes, which handed me the final puzzle pieces to rule out this set as part of the film parks - I thought the entire set must finish just to the right of the pavilion.

That is not so. If I pull up some screenshots from MLC and reintroduce the scant few photographs I've found of the "Mansion Scene" Huaxia set itself from part two, you can see this main courtyard in full:

In these photos and screenshots, we can now see the main courtyard almost in full: the main building with its projecting entrance (I'm unsure if the term portico applies to Asian architecture); the pavillion to its left, standing opposite Building 8 which we will come to in a moment; and Building 11 at the end of what, in MLC, is a central pathway - but that I have interpreted in my own drawing to be a path of scattered stepping stones like the rest of the set, considering the smaller courtyard (5) - as discussed in part two - appears to be taking on the role of a more formal courtyard.

'Everlasting' and 'Gentle Winds'

For a moment, though, I need to draw us back to the main building. This building - Everlasting - is very important as, by vehicle of drama magic, this is where the two Siji sets conflate.

In episode 24 we cut from a shot of the main building in the exterior Siji set, whose sign reads "風輕雲淡" (fēng qīng yún dàn), or "Gentle Winds and Light Clouds," to this interior shot of Everlasting:

And to confirm that this interior shot is Everlasting, or building 6, we return to MLC, where we are treated to an outside-to-inside shot of the build, whose inset floor matches that of WOH's Everlasting building, seen clearest in episode 24, above, and episode 28:

(I do have more screenshots that I may add in later, but right now I'm running out of steam, please just take my word for it. 😂)

Cold River Room

Now, unfortunately I've been unable to place the medicine room, in which ZZS grinds herbs, in what photo resources I have of this film studio. Likewise for the room I've taken to calling the "infirmary" (where WKX takes a healing bath after his confrontation with YBY). Equally as unhelpful, there's simply no discernible exterior details seen from inside these two rooms that I can dig my research claws into and try to identify a placement or orientation for them:

The room they spend their first night at Siji Manor in, however, is a different story. That room - dubbed as the "Cold River Room" by Minna - is Building 8.

This was quite easy to place, thanks to this screenshot of a behind the scenes video (that I've since long lost the link to, unfortunately - if you have a link, I'd be very grateful if you share it with me so that I may add the source). Here, we can see the column inscriptions on Everlasting through the window:

So I can confirm this building to be the room they spend their first night as Siji in, seen here behind Chengling as well as in a MLC screenshot - showing its place across from the pavilion clearly:

The Pond

The last part of the main courtyard - and of this set breakdown overall - is the pond and Building 11:

I had suspected their was some kind of water trough or strip of pond between the seating area (4) and the pavilion (10) for a while, but never had the resources to confirm it. I still can't. However, a film studio's entire purpose is to shapeshift from one design brief to another. Sometimes, there is a pond and sometimes there isn't, as these two images show:

The left image is a photograph from the article about Hengdian's film studios linked above, taken from the seating area (4), while the right image is a screenshot from Heroes episode 13, the camera positioned in front of Building 11. I simply decided that I liked the pond there, so I included it in my Siji layout.

As an aside, in this scene in Heroes, with the camera panning just a bit further right, we get a lovely clear shot of the archway from the formal courtyard (5) to this one:

Finally, we come to Building 11. You'll notice that I called the courtyard of the QHZ snow scene in WOH a "formal" courtyard (5), on account of the clearly defined, linear paving.

However, it doesn't have the large gate of a main courtyard:

This courtyard, the one with Everlasting, does. The winding steppingstones used as paving in the Siji set dressing of this location takes away from the formality of this courtyard that, once you see it in its entirety in shows such as MLC or Heroes, it certainly has. To that point, Building 11 - or rather, structure 11, as may be more appropriate to call it now - is actually a large gateway. This is easiest seen in Heroes, episode 13:

Of course, that doesn't mean we have to designate it as a gateway in the Siji layout. I don't think it's meant to have that identity, based on the above - well, it's not meant to have an identity at all. It's never seen in the show. But, given the Siji set dressing and the resemblance it bears to Building 8, the Cold River Room, I might consider giving it the identity of one of the rooms I've been unable to locate - the infirmary, or the medicine room.

Let me hear your thoughts!

I'd like to hear your suggestions and thoughts on that. On all of it! Because despite all of this research, I am still left with the gargantuan task of drafting it all into a finished piece. And as such, I am still faced with the dilemma I began to outline months ago in part one:

How could I merge these two very different sets together? Should I merge them together?

I have rambled ideas at friends about presenting an architecture draft that is simply reportage - showing both sets, and summarizing the information I've given you all here before making suggestions on how they could combine into "one true set".

But on the other hand, do I draft the Siji I see emerging in the crossover of these two sets - the one I can feel starting to take shape in my brain? And then simply offer this research up as the facts.

There's still a long way to go, but thank you for being here! As always, if you'd like to support my research madness and help fuel my many artistic endeavors, please consider donating to my kofi or checking out my print shop:

project list | kofi | prints

And happy new year! I hope 2024 brings you happiness and opportunity in all that you wish ✨

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

[reasonsforhope]

Catherine Borowski has always had an active imagination. As a child, she dreamed that the car park on her north London council estate would be transformed into a garden. The reality was quite different. “No one had a car, so it was empty, grey and depressing,” she says. Now a sculptor and event producer, Borowski has made it her mission to fill unloved urban spaces with flowers – albeit virtual ones. 

She and her partner Lee Baker are the founders of Graphic Rewilding, a project to install huge nature-inspired artworks into the urban landscape. “Where real rewilding isn’t possible, our goal is to inject the colour and diversity of nature into rundown spaces, urging people to notice – and find joy in – the world around them,” says Baker.   

The pair believe that flowers possess serious powers, even when they’re not real. “We know that spending time in nature is good for us, but studies show that even pictures of plants have a positive effect on the mind,” says Baker. He cites research published in The Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, which found that imagery of plants in hospital waiting rooms can help reduce feelings of stress in patients. 

Baker, a painter and music producer, has long understood the benefits of biophilic design. Having suffered a breakdown 10 years ago, he found that drawing flowers was the only way to soothe his buzzy brain. “I would set out to draw dystopian landscapes, representative of my state of mind, but I’d always end up drawing flowers, which uplifted me,” he says.

It was around this time that Baker met Borowski, joining her production company as creative director. The pair have collaborated ever since, launching Graphic Rewilding in 2021. Since then, they’ve installed floral murals at locations including Earl’s Court station, Lewes Castle and Westfield Shopping Centre in Shepherd’s Bush – all hand drawn by Baker. “We love galleries, but we focus on public art,” he says. “This way, our work is out there for everyone to enjoy.”

This year the pair have grand plans to create a series of stained glass pavilions (think greenhouses with colourful floral-themed panels), which they hope might find homes at Kew Gardens and the Eden Project. “The way light shines through the glass is magical,” says Borowski.  

Even so, they concede that art is no match for Mother Nature. “Some people have suggested that our project detracts from real rewilding efforts. But both can co-exist,” says Borowski. “Of course we want more green spaces.” adds Baker. “But we aren’t gardeners. We’re artists. In the absence of nature, we want to create inspiring spaces through art.”

Overall, the response has been hugely positive. “The joy that these artworks bring is palpable,” says Baker, highlighting an early project in Crawley, West Sussex. “Many people in the town were employed by Gatwick airport and Covid had taken its toll,” he recalls. In a bid to spread some joy, the duo painted brick walls, billboards, benches and even bins with their signature floral flair. “Peoples’ reactions were heartwarming. There were so many smiling faces,” he says.

Elsewhere, in Earl’s Court, the pair transformed “a ratty piece of tarmac” into a modern-day pleasure garden, which is now often filled with children dancing and doing cartwheels on the way home from school. “Putting art into a place that previously felt unloved feels like cultivating joy where there was none,” reflects Borowski. “If something like this had been installed on my estate when I was a kid, it would have been a dream come true.”

-via Positive.News, November 6, 2023

[keepingitneutral]

“Nuna,” Inuit Nunangat, Canada,

Over a millennium, the Inuit have inhabited in the Arctic/Sub-Arctic areas, which include the currently northern regions of Canada. The Inuit celebrates enriched histories that have long survived in the harsh environment. Today, Inuit cultures and traditions have remained resilient with active political activism and cultural renewal movements.

The Inuit have treated the land as a sacred being. It is the place where every animate and inanimate being is created from. Every entity is bonded with the land. Likewise, a human being is deeply attached to the land and is therefore told to treat it as part of himself/herself.

According to Uqalurait (An Oral History of Nunavut), any objects contains a soul (inua). And these souls travel across different beings. Inuits are told to be respectful when they hunt animals as they share the same inua. It is believed that animals sacrifice themselves to one that they find worthwhile. And Inuit are not advised to show off their catch. When they mistreat a particular animal, the offended animal would make themselves impossible to be hunted by humans.

Amauti House: Amauti (parka) grows into a house on her burial site.

Nanuq Den: Nanuq or polar bear is a highly regarded spirit among Inuit. As Nanuq enters into a house (den), he or she removes fur skin and transforms himself/herself into a human being inside the house.

Nunangat Vault: The snow covered vault leads to an archive of Arctic/Sub-Arctic storytelling and traditions. Ear canal shaped entrance invites visitors to rich oral histories of Inuit cultures and traditions.

Issitoq Observatory: Issitoq (a flying eye in Inuit myth) lands on the ground in search of taboo breakers.

Arviq Pavilion: Arviq (bowhead) whale has long been an invaluable being for Inuit. As one of the most favourite beings by the creator in Inuit mythology, it provided Inuit with valuable resources for survival. The pavilion celebrates the return of Arviq and abundance of marine life.

Aiviq House: Aiviq (walrus) turns himself/herself into a house.

Stargazing Tepee: This snow hut provides a warm and intimate space for stargazing.

Ceremonial House: Music and dance elevate Inuit and their spirit, and they are a medium to transcend their physical world and communicate with sacred realms and beings.

Mosaic Igloo: Mosaic Igloo is an architectural aspiration for “Cultural Mosaic.”

Ijiraq: Ijiraq turns itself into a giant caribou to lure and hunt another caribou. Ijiraq is a mythical being that can transform into any form. It would be quite difficult to discern it as they can be disguised as animals or humans.

Yongwook Seong