#fluff too... spoilers!

[sirmatthew1972]

House With the Sycamore Tree

At last! Here is Chapter 1 of the sequel to Room on the Third Floor, the final part of the Tooth and Claw universe. In which Aaron Hotchner is a wildcat shifter, and Spencer Reid is his human lover. Yes, you'll have to read part 1 for this story to make sense. *shrugs* Summary Injured wildcat shifter Aaron has clawed his way out of the hunters' cage as Orion the leopard, but his fight to be free isn't over yet. Far from it. Since the hunters have subdued his ability to return to human form and stand tall again as the BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Worse, the metal collar invented by his captor Ben Stein is pushing ever harder onto his DNA, forcing back his humanity behind the fur and claws of the leopard deemed feral by some. Traumatised and weakened, yet too stubborn to let his captor win, he puts his fate and trust into the one person who's stood by him since they first kissed. Can Spencer undo what's been done to him? Hell knows, Aaron aches to be human so he can hold Spencer again and propose to him with the ring he'd bought the day he got snatched from the street. But as the days veer off towards winter not even the rain and snow can conceal his reputation… and now another draws to why he stands out amongst his kind. Why a leopard like him can hide, but never change his spots, with good reason. Note Go read House With the Sycamore Tree on AO3, and beware of the tags, 'cause there's all sorts of fun to be had... from hurt to angst to comfort and back around again.

[yashley]

As you all step out, what do you see?  (episode 111 spoiler:)

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[jvsont0dd]

Jason Todd dies so often that he might as well be a Winchester

[demigods-posts]

the "'i can explain' 'no you can't'" interaction between percy and annabeth should be an on going thing every season. in season 2 after percy blows up a gym and annabeth has to clock a bully. in season 3 when annabeth finds out percy hijack a quest he wasn't asked to be on. in season 4 when percy disrupts his own funeral and annabeth demands to know where he was for two weeks. in season 5 when annabeth finds out percy took a dip in the styx. the possibilities.

[sunsburns]

[nsfw 17+]

thinking about eating out hazel for the first time and how she would probably be super loud, scrunching up her nose while gripping onto your hair like her life depends on it.

it would start with a heated make out, messy, clumsy where her teeth crash against your own because she just wants to be closer if that was even possible. when half your clothes had been thrown somewhere in the room, you'd notice her hips grinding against your thigh, and it goes from there.

she'd hold her breath, her eyes following you as you make your way down her body, lips pressing soft kisses against her clothes, her skin. her hands grip the counter as she tenses once you get to her underwear. nothing special, a pair of boxers, but it still makes you groan in want.

"you're so hot," you tell her, slowly dragging down the underwear.

hazel lets out a breathless laugh at your words, staring down at you before bringing her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation. she's still a little embarrassed about how you got on your knees so willingly. she didn't even have to ask you to eat her out.

the way you stare back at her nearly makes her moan, "i wish you could see yourself right now."

you feel yourself smiling, humming while running your hands up her thighs and waist as hazel kicks off her boxers. you bring your hands to the inner sides of her thighs, fingers slipping between her lips.

hazel sucks in a sharp breath as you poke two fingers by her entrance before bringing them to her clit, drawing gentle circles on her clit as you lean closer. your warm breath against her skin makes her let go of the counter with one hand and dig it into your hair. hazel drags you closer, her hips bucking to try and keep up with your moving hand.

"fuuuucckk," hazel tilts her head back once you finally bring your mouth to her.

your tongue laps around with slow, long, languid strokes. you go from the bottom of her folds to the hood of her clit, hooking it up a bit. the corners of your mouth curl into a grin when she pulls your hair harder, gasping before letting out a broken moan.

to test the waters, you suck on her clit, your eyes staring right at her bright blue ones. her eyes half open, making an effort to look at you before she caves in and squeezes them shut.

she's biting her lip again, trying to hold anything back before giving up and calling out your name. it's like a prayer in her mouth, and she says it four times before cutting herself off and groaning loudly, cursing. "shit, shit. keep doing that. please, don't stop."

you listen, of course. how could you not?

when hazel starts to squirm, her grip on your hair loosening, you make your way lower, dipping the tip of your tongue to her entrance. you can't help but moan at the taste of her, feeling it run down your chin.

hazel starts to moan louder when your nose consistently brushes against her clit while your tongue continues to make its way deeper and deeper inside of her. "fuck- i'm gonna- shit." her voice has dropped to a rasp, pulling you so close you can barely breathe between her thighs.

"c'mon, haze," you mutter against her skin, "cum for me."

and you keep on going, like shit you could probably eat her out of days if she'd let you. and when hazel cums, you make sure to get all of it, drowning in the sounds of her moans and her cursing and mumbling your name in incoherent whispers. she makes you feel so fucking good all the time, so it's only fair if you return the favour.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

sanemi had never been desperate. he wasn’t the kind of person to plead or beg for anything. he had learned as a child that that brought nothing but humiliation and pain. but he couldn’t help it. tears tumbled down his cheeks and he screamed, he cried, he begged. he did not want genya to die. and yet, in his arms, he found his brother’s body disappearing into the air. and all he could do was plead desperately for someone, something to help. because he felt useless. he couldn’t do anything, nothing he could do would bring genya back. desperation didn’t look good on him. but he was willing to do anything if genya could just be genya again. let him be alive. please.

[hyakunana]

"This only happened because you killed my sister in the first place…!"

[kakashi-fangirl-ita-blog]

Zosan headcanon (set either after Whole Cake Island or during one of the pre-timeskip arcs)

One night Sanji has a bad dream (about his childhood, his trauma, his fears...) and suddenly wakes up gasping and heavy breathing.

He doesn't want to wake up his crewmates, so he just gets up from the floor where he usually sleeps and leaves the room. But Zoro is on lookout that night and sees Sanji running into the kitchen (his comfort place). He knows that something isn't right by how panicked his breathing sounded and how confused he looked around, so he decides to check on him.

He finds Sanji in the darkness, sitting on the floor, with his back leaning on the counter, covering his head with his arms and sobbing like he never heard him do. (In his own mind, it that moment Sanji is still a child, left alone crying in the darkness by his father).

Sanji sees Zoro on the doorsteps, lit by the moonlight. Because of his pride and his rivalry with the swordsman, he doesn't want Zoro to see him while he is so vulnerable and tells him to go away, but of course Zoro is way too stubborn to do what he tells him to and wants to know why he's crying.

Sanji thinks that he wants to make fun of him, so he just stays silent, suffocating his sobs, waiting for an insult or a joke. But instead Zoro sits next to him and tells him that he envies him, because he's able to let all his emotions out and to cry freely without feeling judged (by his own self) or "less masculine".

Sanji is obviously surprised by that glimpse of Zoro's sincerity, but doesn't want to tell him why he's crying. He doesn't want to burden him with his story. In that moment, he just knows that Zoro's company is comforting. Their shoulders slightly brushing while sitting next to each other in the darkness, Zoro's slow breathing, the warmth of his body... Everything about that makes Sanji cry even more. He isn't alone anymore. He doesn't have to bear all his sufferings by himself in a loop of poisonous thoughts.

Without even realising it, he finds himself leaning his head on Zoro's shoulder, feeling the tears running down his cheeks and soaking Zoro's shirt. He quickly starts sobbing again, covering his face with his hand. Zoro wraps his arm around him and pulls him closer, letting Sanji bury his head on his chest.

Zoro patiently waits, while Sanji cries until he's too tired to even let out a single hiccup and they both fall asleep holding each other.

[milky-aeons]

— BY A COMMANDER’S SIDE

౨ৎ  . . . even though you may not always be by his side, there are multiple ways you and ARMIN ARLERT express your love for each other.

warnings: sexual content, memories of war, ptsd, marriage, pregnancy, mdni, w.c 845

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ tenerife sea — ed sheeran ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was, at first, not very forthcoming about his feelings towards you. Who allowed them to balloon into something monstrous, something that wouldn't let his eyes leave you no matter where you came or when you went.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who mustered up the courage to ask you on a date after weeks of deliberation. That mind of his really was a double-edged sword, having the ability to lead squadrons to victory but crumbled when he looked into your eyes and became so adorably tongue-tied.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, on the day of your wedding, wore a crown of flowers in her hair and jewellery made from emerald sea-glass. Who kept the jewellery on that night you spent together, the smooth stone sliding over your bouncing breasts as you rode him into ecstasy.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who held him tight on those nights he couldn't sleep. When the haunting echoes of war visited him instead of dreams. Who cradled him against your chest and carded through his golden hair, humming to him a song from your childhood, until his tense shoulder muscles smoothened down and he took more even, slumbering breaths.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was always phenomenal when it came to choosing gifts. Whether they be for special occasions like your one year anniversary — when he surprised you with that delicate little music box specially crafted to play that tune, the one you always sung to him — or little delicates he brought home after a long day's work. Chocolates, flowers, books from the Capital where he conducted the duties of Commander.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would know immediately when your husband has had a taxing day. When he'd come through the door of the little town house you shared — his eyes shadowed, his hair mused from where he ruffled at it. You would go to him and place longer, sweeter kisses against his lips. You would instruct him to sit in the kitchen so you could brew him some tea, so you could take your fingers to his temples and draw soothing little circles.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who brought you to the beach on late summer's nights. Who would be mysterious and playful with his little secret, ushering you out of the house when you least expected it. Of course, he had the charade planned right down to the finer details; the standing wax candles in the sand, the blanket, the bottle of fine Mitras wine and two polished glasses waiting to be drunk.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was reserved with his desires, and yet eager to please you at the same time. Who would murmur hot and heady into your ear; where do you need it, love? Does it feel good when I do this? Tell me what you need, let me please you. Who had years of power in his honed abdomen muscles and thighs as he would use them to thrust into you without conviction. Who would relish in the way you called out his name as your walls clenched around him, undoing him by the very seams.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who gave him a small clothed package unannounced one day. Watchful as he undid the layers with those gorgeous blue eyes wide and curious. Who did not take long to understand what the gift meant — a little wooden horse and a hat that would be much too small for him. He had stood, unbelieving, his eyes shining with tears, and picked you up in a hug that stole the air from your lungs and spun you round, round, round.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who lay beside your curved belly swollen with life and read to them. About fields of fire, endless seas of ice, vast rivers of colour in the night sky. Who would place kisses to your unborn child, who would place kisses on the back of your hand and tell you how much he loved you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who cooked with you on the days he had been spared from his military duties. Who would lift your beautiful child up into the air and make them giggle as you stirred the pot. Who would come up behind you and encircle you in his strong arms, placing a quick, chaste kiss on your temple.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was cunning with him, adoring the blush that still coloured your husbands cheeks when you did something daring. You would seek him out on late nights in the study as he poured over reports by lamplight. Quietly, you would slip your nightdress down from your shoulders and let it fall to a pool at your feet. It always made your pulse flutter, the way he looked at you, like a man strangled. Like a man so madly and irrevocably in love.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who, before he left every morning and before he closed his eyes at night, would mutter the same exact words;

"I love you, my moon and stars."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would murmur right back;

"And I love you too, my entire night sky."

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Horrible new theory about Runaan's shirt today.

-no, not the new one, the one he lost-

He's still got his green assassin shirt here on the balcony, and vest too:

But by the time Gren is thrown into the dungeon a couple days later, it's missing.

Runaan's also sporting bags under his eyes because he'd been kept awake all night, enjoying Viren's frustrations about losing Harrow and also getting denied the crown of Katolis.

So. About that missing shirt.

I can't think of too many things worse for a guy who wears four shirts at once than to have them all taken off while he's badly hurt and manacled to the wall, and then be tickled half to death all night long, on his birthday.

[toovaeloe]

— Annoying Hero Who Dies Spectacularly in the End

[ladygreenwithenvy]

A Vanity’s Goodnight

౨ৎ ˚｡⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ

Category: Fluff, Comfort

Characters included: Vil Schoenheit, Prefect (Female)

Oneshot Prompt: After a very strenuous day of the Sing and Dance Competition, Yuu invites Vil to her room for a small chat- and hopefully a heart to heart.

౨ৎ ˚｡⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ

The soft creak of the floorboards reverted with every step they made. It filled the awkward silence between them, or at least it tried. One could only hope that those loud creaks could mask this- this bespoke silence as a more comfortable one.

Obviously, it didn’t.

The silence was just too palpable. Palpable enough to be stricken by a magical pen.

The elephant in the room, or in this case in the hallway, was a bit too big. It made this scenario all the more disagreeable. Almost unsightly and never ending. Like each step added five more years. The walk to Yuu’s room felt like a punishment in itself.

But that wasn’t what was on Vil’s mind. He didn’t care about the walk. There were more irritating things.. Like the growing intensity between him and the Prefect for one- but it was only natural.

Yuu could have died today because of him. Many could have died today because of him.

Today was a disaster, and his overblot was the main course for that. And still, it wasn’t the main thing he was so stuck on in his head.

The other thing, or the main thing as is more appropriate to call it, was how the Prefect clearly knew more than she let on. And it was just a matter of time until they sat down and talked about a topic he definitely didn’t want out in the open. For better or for worse. Some things were just meant to rot in the deepest depths of his convoluted heart.

And how did Vil know? Such a question was redundant. Vil can always tell with such things. He’s always had a knack for reading the behaviors of the people around him. ‘Tis but just one of many talents and pros from growing up in the acting world. The blonde beauty could deduce who is most likely to double cross him the moment they smile at him. Spotting betrayals is trivial for someone like Schoenheit.

At the same time, Vil was plenty capable of sorting out the genuine earnest types. That’s trivial for him too. Afterall, discerning that Silver was perfectly harmless during the Beanfest games was rudimentary. So, why?..

Why couldn’t he seem to figure her out at this moment? It positively peeved him. How much did Yuu know for her to personally ask him to talk things out alone like this?

Surely, she knew something. And knowing her, she’d tell him. That’s just how blunt the Prefect was. And it’s not like it took some sort of maverick genius or a savvy merchant to figure out that Vil was.. upset. Upset beyond words. Words he still hasn’t spilled out just yet. Not even to Rook. Yes, he who can notice things as little as a gram more of weight gain couldn’t even notice the agony that Vil had been living with for almost all of his life. Yes, the very hunter who studied him almost daily like some forbidden work of art figured it out when it was too late. And so did Yuu.. But when she looked at him as if there was more. Almost as if… well..

He just didn’t know. It was as if you read his mind and then some.

It was as if she were a gemologist. A very special kind. Studying his eyes after what happened shortly in the SDC. Vil recalled how she studied his gaze and was trying to peel him apart like he was under her microscope. Studying the glimmer in his rare hue. Studying the fractures too. That only grew more over time until it shattered under enough pressure. Like a punch to a glass pane, it felt like. And what leaked out was that putrid smell of blot, as well as an ugliness Vil never wanted anyone to see.

And even now, it barely stayed together. Every fracture was still on the floor in his eyes.

And with so much hurt that kept getting forced to reveal itself one after another, it was safe to say that it wouldn’t fade away with just a little pep talk.

And Yuu knew that. Recognized that upon a glance. That’s how it always was with every Overblot case she’s been stuck with. This was the part she hated the most. The helplessness. The realization that she couldn’t solve this with some motivating pep talk. She knew that it would so much more to heal Vil.

But at the very least, she could understand just one little thing about Vil. A feeling.

The feeling of simply not being enough.

Something that she needed to face many lone nights when slumbering in this magical world. So, who better to talk about this with Vil than the veteran Prefect? No matter how vexing that elephant was, it needed to be talked about.

But let’s start light for now.

“I think you did wonderfully.” Yuu starts. “The performance, I mean.” Her eyes looked back down to the creaky floorboards, just in case Grim left one of his empty tuna cans on the floor again. It’d be embarrassing to trip now in such a crucial moment of need. But then again, maybe Vil could benefit from a laugh here.

“Knowing that it was your all- it felt so special, you know?” She admits, hoping for success in breaking their silence to completion.

Her steps were slow to match with Vil’s pace. They suddenly halted. Changing direction.

The tips of her shoes now pointed at her door.

It wasn’t anything special. Simply painted in her favorite colors on the outlines to differentiate between the other identical doors. With how garbage the locks are, it’d be terrible if any visitor were to barge in and accidentally sneak a peek. A nightmare, actually.

“Maybe I should paint it some more” She blurts out, turning the knob and pushing the door forward.

“There was a trend back in my world where people painted their doors or bedroom walls out of pure boredom at the time.” She rambles, racking at her brain on how to move the conversation. Vil was just so silent, simply listening to the ramblings of the first year- He could tell that she was sweating bullets, but chose not to say anything. His intensity was more fervent, and that definitely wasn’t helping.

“Maybe I should test it out on the canvas I have in my room first. It’s been collecting dust for half the semester.” She stammered, motioning the Pomefiore Housewarden to sit on the green armchair.

Vil could only smile, and hope that was good enough to ease the many worries that struck the poor girl’s heart.

He couldn’t blame her- Anyone in her shoes would be worried sick about him after such a nasty overblot.

“I think that’s a sound enough idea, but do be mindful of the colors and the technique you end up using. What you decide to paint on your door should also compliment the structure- you wouldn’t want it to be an eyesore” He advises, sitting up straight once he feels his body properly press itself against those cushions. It was a cheap couch, and it did not befit nor him or the stammering little prefect in front of him. But that was a comment for another day: the importance of furniture replacement for aesthetic and convenient purposes, he’d note.

Still, Vil couldn’t ignore the purpose of this small talk anymore. She was just trying to lighten the mood. Guilt twisted his bleeding heart, for he knew that her nervous smile was all his fault. Those nervous gazes to any other angle of the room befalls on him. And he was at a loss on how to smoothen it. If only he weren’t so tired right now. He’d know what to do. He usually did.

Instead, he opted for following along her lead. Swallowing the growing lump in his throat again. Maybe not his quickest thought to cross his mind, because right as he tried to open his mouth, Yuu turned herself back around the door.

“Stay right there. I’ll be riiight back” was all she said before booking it to the door in quiet steps.

‘Like a little mouse’ he adds to no one in particular, smiling at how endearing it was to see her so flustered despite the circumstances. Usually, Yuu didn’t really insert themselves too much in situations, much less conversations. That was always the job of that vulgar little cat monster you call Grim. But, as if to prove that you are your own person, your personality is highlighted with how your comments go straight to the jugular with the truth.

A funny little maus, she was.

The actor would relax a bit. He took this moment to gaze around her room. The way you take care of your room reflects how you are as a person, this was something that the blonde believed in deeply. And it was definitely correct.

It was clean.

The bed was tucked and lacked any wrinkles. That empty canvas she mentioned earlier was right next to her bed. Tucked away in that corner with that purple drape that covered very little. His eyes naturally pandered to the windows next. They were shielded by those blue curtains that she most likely forgot to pull back.

The last time he was here was to remind her and Grim of their necessary alarm clocks for the whole month, by then the curtains were open as usual. He wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up in a horrid rush to avoid being late. Vil felt tempted to stand up and to look beyond the shielded glass panes, but instead found himself drawn by something else.

“What a beautiful handcrafted cuckoo clock… it suits the aesthetic of such an antique dorm, but it stands out alone as such a conversation starter.” He mutters to himself. Again. To no one in particular.

He stands up to properly inspect it. His gloves hands were gentle in brushing against the sides. It’s been properly dusted too.

“What a diligent little maus you are” He hums, chuckling at his little sentence before glancing over at her desk to inspect it on a surface level. And then he stops.

“..... Sevens, what am I doing?” Vil groans, his hand covering his eyes from the frustration.

A girl has invited him to her room after a very dangerous day to hopefully unwind, and here he was marveling at her- very basic- decor. His priorities right now were shot. Shot and muddled into a mess. He was a mess.

Removing his hand from his eyes, he glanced back at the clock, and then at the mirror.

As if on record time, he saw the door open.

Soft steps. Short steps. He noticed her focused stare at the objects in hand.

A soft clink on the table echoed this room. He looked down.

A bowl of sliced strawberries in one hand, two water bottles on the other. The Prefect smiled at him.

Soft eyes. Patient eyes stared back at him from the reflection. Soft lips. Slowly curving to a patient smile.

“Let’s just talk for a bit” She suggested.

And what was he to do? Decline? Please, not with that discernable soft spot he had for her.

“Alright” he replies, and already found himself sitting right back down where he belonged.

Just a simple conversation. More small talk than anything. He was surprised to hear that Yuu had researched some films that Vil was in. With how natural the conversation flowed every time, he almost forgot that you were from another world. Which meant that he wasn’t a face that you knew about prior to this school year.

It was a strange idea. Humbling even.

It turned out that the Prefect watched a movie that was set in the Sunset Savana. He recalled the production, and he recounted the story of how an elephant dumped some water on him. It made her laugh. Concluding with the same thought he had; that the elephant must have done that as a gift.

Such a pretty laugh, Vil thought. And it was, at least for him. It suited her features more than that straight lined expression she always had.

…

And then the conversation dialed back down again.

He closed his eyes- and immediately perked up to Yuu’s demand.

“Be honest? About what?” He asked, chugging the last drops of his beverage. He looked over at her whilst twisting the tap back on.

“About… y’know, this. All of that. The uh… the overblot. I’m sure you know what happens to me every time that happens by now.”

Vil blinked, keeping his inflated ego to himself. He knew he was right about something here.

“No, mein maus. I don’t. Care to fill me in?”

Yuu sighed, setting down her own bottle. “I see where it started… I see the source” She paused. “In your memories”

“...”

Vil felt at a loss of words, because he knew what that meant. Without him knowing, he opened this door of vulnerability for what was basically a stranger. And that made his blood run cold. “Ah.. so that’s the rumor.”

He had to ask. Now he just had to. “So, you’re aware of my… hatred for him?”

The Prefect would only nod. Honestly, Yuu was a bit shocked that his hatred even reached the point that even now he refused to say Neige’s name. “I… I didn’t know.” She awkwardly whispered.

“No one did. Something as… hideous as that, must be kept a secret.”

“Hideous? What, your feelings? That’s not hideous Vil.”

“It’s not beautiful either”

“It’s human, Vil. There’s nothing to be ashamed about either.”

“I wanted him dead, Yuu.” He fixed his posture, almost as if for a moment he forgot that he’s meant to be perfect. Because if he wasn’t perfect, if he wasn’t the fairest of them all- then what is he?

“What could you possibly know, Miss Prefect? How could you possibly hope to understand?”

His eyes. Bubbling up with a contempt Yuu didn’t know how empty out. And yet she didn’t have to. They faltered just as quickly as it erupted. He was too weak at the moment to continue with such a strong act. He knew that. Even now, Vil couldn’t last to the very end of such a scene.

Merciful Sevens, he didn’t even understand why he was being so uncharacteristically vulnerable in the first place. Was he truly that much of a mess? That weak that he’s falling apart to the first person that offers just a little bit of sympathy? How horrid. The last thing he’d ever want is to be pitied.

And yet he couldn’t find it himself to stop her.

His lips trembled, his own lipstick having faded. So deep in his mind, he’s even forgotten to reapply it. “I…. I’ve never felt uglier than I did today…”

He looked away from her yet again, as if the truth compelled him to look at anywhere but her. “And no beauty treatment washes this off. It never goes away. Why won’t it? Why should it?”

Yuu knew that it took a lot out of him. To admit something so foreign out loud.

In a sense, he was right. She has no idea how he feels, because they were his feelings. Not hers.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head down.

The young Prefect expected many things from this point onward, but she ruled it down quickly to two. One, he would leave without saying another word, forcing her to reflect in her presumptuous statements. Or two, he would keep scolding her for her assumptions and then he’d leave. Yuu was leaning towards the latter.

“I’m sorry”

It interrupted her thoughts. Stopped them completely.

This voice, it was so sweet. You’d almost think a melody would follow.

When she opened her eyes and lifted her head, she saw none other than Vil. He was bowing, trembling a little from the lack of strength. And to be honest, it almost scared Yuu.

It was all so raw. A complete far cry from his cold display before..

It was at this very moment that she understood something about Vil. Beneath all this beauty, all this shine and determination to reach towards a dream that most would deem impossible, there was him.

A Vil that fell in love with the cinema. A Vil that bowed on a little school theater stage and realized that this was the feeling that he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. A Vil that cries himself to sleep on harsh days and nights. A Vil that just wants to stay on the stage to the very end.

A Vil that’s fragile.

A Vil that is beautiful.

A Vil that is ugly.

A Vil that is so human.

Arms reached out and hugged him tight. Like a vice.

It was warm. And soft. As if the gentle wind, as playful as it was, forced a light pressure to his body

"I-... Why are you?..."

Her embrace felt suffocating. He was..

… at a loss for words.

He never realized just how small she was compared to him.

He never noticed how fluffy her hair was, and how it bounced so graciously with each step she took. It was well taken care of as well. Good. She was following his advice then. No. Not the time to think about her improved hair routine, no matter how proud he was of it.

When was the last time he’d been hugged like this? When it didn’t come from her father or for the purpose of a scene?

He didn’t know. And it made him melt even faster.

That scared him a little. He’s never fallen apart in front of someone so quickly. But Yuu seems to have that effect on so many others too. To experience it first hand was.. Well, it didn’t matter.

"I'm so sorry.. my dear" he whispered into her ear.

But for Yuu? She could have sworn that the room had gotten much warmer after that.

"It's okay.."

"No, I.."

"It's alright…" she persisted, slowly letting go as she felt him start to shift and move.

Vil said nothing, his gaze to the floor as he struggled a "Sweet dreams" and would start stepping away.

The Prefect would follow of course, but would stop him the moment he reached the door. With the sleeve of his uniform, she’d tug it and force him back a step, as well as to her height level. Vil obliged, expecting her to say something else, but-

"You've never looked more beautiful to me than now.” She smiled. “Even as you tremble, you shine… you're a gem I can't have, and I envy that about you.." Her voice was low. It was almost quiet. Like a forbidden whisper. As if she’s admitted a secret none were ever supposed to hear. But Vil couldn’t help but feel more glad that he heard it.

When opening the door for him, she showed him out, and said "Please go to bed now, you've done enough for today."

She would have stopped there, but..

She didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the light that perfectly casted onto Vil's skin. Maybe it was his soft breathing that she had the pleasure to hear at such a close distance. Or maybe it was his eyes that once again entranced her to think unthinkable things.

But whatever it was, it gave her feet the courage to step towards and push her perfectly shaped lips to collide with his cheek.

"...." He was… dizzy.

He felt dizzy.

He felt tense and unsure of where to go from here.

How did?..

Why did she?..

She pulled away, and whispered a comforting, "Goodnight" and walked back inside her door without looking back. The sound of the doorknob turning echoed for a moment. And once again, Vil was surrounded by silence. A warmer silence that covered him like a blanket.

"Ah.." There we go, that makes sense. He recognized this. A traditional greeting and goodbye from her homeland. That was all. Yes. That was all it was.

“I suppose I’ll chide her about this at another time.” He hummed, making a mental note about that. To confront the Ramshackle Prefect about the thin line between traditions and inappropriateness that she was playing jump rope with.

He tried to concoct a speech in his head. It was all for naught. Every sentence he tried to form in order to scold her, turned to mush.

That cheeky little goodbye kiss definitely took much longer than the regular goodbyes she’s done befo- Huh.

Wait a moment…

He stiffened a little, stopping suddenly in his walk back to his room.

He smiled again.

One last smile.

Such a devious little maus. Only further proving Rook’s title of a Trickster.

"..... Maybe not" He silently proclaimed to no one in particular, and left it at that.

Author's Note

౨ৎ ˚｡⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ

I disappeared for a bit. I'm sorry :3

For more of my fanfics, go HERE to see my list of published fics (and other information)

Tee hee

Fun fact, this fic used to be for a friend at the time. That's why the story has a fem!Prefect instead of a gender neutral one. It was easier to take out details and stuff if I just kept the gender.

Changing this fic from a story that specifically meant to cater one person into a general story for a wider audience was a bit difficult. And it took me a while.

Still, hope you liked it!

More is on the way, no matter how long it takes (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Thank you! Buenas noches! 💜

[demigods-posts]

big idea!!! what if instead of annabeth falling off the cliff with the manticore!! the manticore drags her to the edge of the cliff so it doesn't fall alone!! and percy sees what's happening!! and wills a nearby water source to take hold of her hand!! because he wants to prove himself as a big three kid!! but the water does not catch her in time!! and percy has to watch annabeth fall into what looks like a dark and bottomless pit!!!

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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[springypaws]

Another quick & messy jmart drawing cause I’m so sane about them (…there will inevitably be more)

The image description can be found in the alt text of the image <33333

(Also feel free to lmk if I should move the descriptions here (under the image as a caption), cause I’ve noticed that’s what most people do!!)