#gaia skin care

[notjustjavierpena]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia: Chapter II

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I'm so sorry for the very long wait. I ended up separating the chapter into two parts because it ended up being 13k. Hope you can forgive me!

Chapter Summary: In which you get married to the General. 

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Chapter warnings: +18, arranged marriage, historical sexism, probably historical inaccuracies, large age gap, religion in the form of Roman Gods, shitty parents, anxieties over wedding night

Word count: 5k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57443332/chapters/151335016#workskin

Chapter II: A wonderful day for a wedding

Due to the warm night, it doesn’t surprise you when dawn brings the most beautiful sunrise all year. The landscape outside is bathed in gold and when you gently guide a lost bee out of your bedroom window, you feel the warmth of the sunshine prickle your skin.

You have a great deal to do before the carriage ride to the Acacius estate, so you hurry through breakfast - bread and cheese with herbs - to make sure there are enough hours in the morning for your bath, your grooming, and your dress preparations. 

You gently wash off the sweat and sleep from last night by rubbing slow circles down your arms, legs, and chest with a piece of soaked cloth. The excitement pools in your belly as you focus on the dream wedding belonging to the little girl in your heart happening today. The fact that it is arranged by your parents doesn’t diminish the fact that your tunic is beautiful and the festivities will be worthy of the Gods. You have no tears and concerns for Cassius left, you say to yourself, or at least, you’re not allowing yourself to have any left. 

“A perfect day for a wedding,” your mother says as she brings you more water for your bath instead of the maids, pouring the freshly hot water into the tub by your feet. Afterward, she moves to sit on a chair behind you to wash your hair. 

“Mother,” you say while she tilts your head forward, pouring water over the back of your neck, “I want jasmine flowers in the wedding crown, can we please have a maid pick some from the garden? Marcus— I mean, General Acacius will be impressed if I remember our conversation from yesterday.” 

The warm water feels soothing as it cascades down your shoulders, even more soothing is your mother’s fingers detangling your hair with practiced care. You spot her in the full-body mirror along the wall, her face sporting an affectionate smile, “Jasmine is his favorite? The General told you this? He must like you, my daughter.” 

“Mother, we barely know each other,” you let out a little laugh and turn your head back to look up at her. She grins down at you, smoothing her palm over your wet hair to squeeze out some excess water.

“Yet you already care what he thinks,” she points out with a slight hint of teasing. You splash a few drops of water in her direction and she acts outraged in only the way a mother can. The both of you laugh, the bubbling feeling warm in your chest until you also feel melancholic. The feeling that you should have had last night comes creeping up on you now.

“I’m gonna miss you and father,” you say softly and she wraps her arms around you from behind, not caring about getting her clothes wet if it means squeezing you enough to make you feel how much she loves you.

“I’ve been through this two times already. You know we still see both of your sisters. I am not sending you off to another country,” she soothes, rocking you from side to side and pecking the top of your head. You reach up to hold her wrist. 

“I know this but I’m the last bird leaving the nest,” you reply with eye contact in the mirror, corners of your mouth turning downward. You sigh quietly. 

“And father and I will finally be able to have some peace around here,” she tries to make you laugh again. When it doesn’t happen, the tone of her voice changes into something more serious, “I know everything feels safe and familiar here but you will grow to love your new life. Change is good.”

“I still feel like a child,” you lean back into her and stare down at the water that is growing colder, “You should have seen me trying to have a conversation with him yesterday. He is much older and more experienced than I am. I made a fool of myself not just once.”

“Listen to me, dearest,” she releases you from the confines of her arms and lifts your head to find your gaze in the mirror again, “I know that this is not a matter of love. I understand, my dear. This union is a great responsibility, but it can also be an even greater source of joy and strength for you. Your father and I have always wanted what’s best for you, even in situations where it might seem like it is only to our own advantage. Yet think about the possibilities this match will bring you; you will be the wife of a general. You can do anything.”

You nod with an understanding that is still marked by sorrow for the life you will leave behind, the dream of true love delivered by Cupid himself that will not be fulfilled now, “Yes, Mother.”

“And I will say this with confidence,” she continues, now with a gleam of pride in her eyes, “You are not a child, in fact, you have grown into a remarkable young woman. One that you can be very proud of. I know I am.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth and eventually, you cannot hold back the breath of air that you have been holding. Your eyes are watery, your mouth grinning with teeth from being reassured so affectionately by your mother. You suppose that you can get through this day with those words playing on your mind, “You had that rehearsed, did you not?”

“Not at all, came straight from the heart,” she giggles and gets up from her seat. She walks to stand at your side, offering you her hand, “Now, let’s get you out of the tub and make you more beautiful than even Goddess Venus herself. Today is a celebration of everything you’ve become and everything you will achieve with your husband. However, remember that General Acacius is even more fortunate to have you and your heart by his side.”

“Thank you, Mother,” you say as she helps you to your feet, holding you steady as you step over the edge of the bathtub. 

She wraps a linen cloth around you, “I’ll send for the flowers right away. The tailor has already been with your tunic this morning, I’ve had the maids hang it in your room.” 

“Perfect,” you smile. You leave the bathroom while another ancilla - a maid - empties the tub, hangs the linen towel to dry, and mops excess water from the floor. 

As you make your way back to your bedroom, you notice your home is abuzz with servants doing all sorts of tasks to ensure a perfect day. They pass you with kind smiles and congratulations, carrying wine in jugs and baskets of fruit and vegetables, freshly baked bread, and flowers for decorating. 

You think back to Marcus’ beautiful garden, wondering how it is taking shape to be the venue for your union. The red roses are sure to compliment your red veil, the marble the golden embroidery on your tunic too. 

But then, as you enter your room, you think about Cassius’ words from last night. In less than a day, you will belong to one of the most powerful families in all of the empire and despite this, it sounded like it did not ensure you the safety that your father had foreseen with this match. Quite the contrary, it seems like you are getting into something that’ll wash the pink and fluffy clouds away. 

However, the concerned thoughts last only a moment as your gaze falls on the beautiful tunic hanging on the wall, just out of the sun’s rays. You smile and sigh, brushing the woven fabric delicately with your hand. It is long and white, embroidered with squared patterns along the shoulder seams and down the short sleeves. You know that Marcus’ own attire will have the same stitching and color, signaling that the two of you are weaved together from now on. 

The veil hangs beside it and is as red as the fires that you have seen built for sacrifices to the Gods. Your mother has taught you enough during wedding preparations for you to know exactly what it is supposed to symbolize; you will be given to General Acacius today and you will belong to him in the same manner as the many gifts that have been given to the many Roman deities, like the coin you tossed in the fountain for Fortuna. 

After taking the tunic off the hook on the wall, you let the linen around your body fall to the floor and slip your wedding attire on. You sit down on the chair by your vanity and gaze at your reflection in the mirror, staring at the woman you have become in such a short time.

You adjust the neckline of the garment, smoothing out any crease that makes you seem less than perfect and then you grab your hairbrush to start detangling your hair. After having brushed your hair for a while and getting lost in the mindless task, a knock on your door distracts your thoughts. 

You quickly get up to hurriedly step behind the room divider in the corner, not wanting to reveal your look before it has gotten its final touches or in case the person seeking entry is your father. 

“Come in,” you say when you are hidden from view. 

However, it is your mother again who carries the wedding crown, which has now gotten beautiful jasmine flowers weaved into it. From the sound of the different footsteps, you deduce that she is followed by two servant girls who have come to help you with the remaining details of your outfit.

“I brought Lupa and Nidia to help you,” she chirps, hands the wedding crown to Lupa with the utmost care, and then gently sits down on the chair by the vanity. She waits as the girls join you behind the screen, “Quickly now, we have to be ready to go in half an hour.”

Nidia has gotten the veil from its spot on the wall, now draping it over the top of your head while Lupa secures it with the flower crown. You can smell the jasmine, feel the soft fabric of the red veil brush your bare arms, and suddenly, the weight of today begins to bear down on your shoulders. You swallow thickly as you look at yourself in the full-body mirror. This summer has changed you since you got the news of your arranged union, and suddenly, as you look at yourself at this moment, you are surprised to see that a bride stares back at you. 

“You look perfect,” Nidia says softly as if sensing your nervousness. She holds your gaze in the mirror and smiles a little when Lupa joins in with a happy, agreeing nod, the both of them adjusting the veil to cascade down your back gracefully. 

“Thank you,” you say gratefully and relax a bit more. At least how you look is going to be talked about the most but then again, will this enhance your future husband’s desire? What will happen when he gets you alone in his chambers? You shake the thought, not used to the idea of being perceived in such a fashion even if you tasted the idea yesterday, “Okay, I think I am ready.”

As you step out from behind the divider, your mother radiates maternal pride and clasps her hands together, “Oh, by Venus, you are radiant! I don’t know what your father was doing with all his worry.”

You try not to overthink that statement and act casual, very much aware that you have not seen him today. Instead, you ask, “Where is father?” 

“He has gone back and forth between our home and the General’s many times today. I suppose that he wants everything to be perfect for you and make you happy,” she keeps her voice high-pitched and cheerful but you can feel your gut telling you that she isn’t completely convinced either. She may have been making jest of you being the last of her daughters to marry but you know that your father sees you as more of a chess piece - the final move out of three - than his blood.

In your wedding attire, sparkling as Lupa gets the box of jewelry and Nadia adorns you in gold, you think again of the way your father had handled the negotiations of your marriage; how little concern he had shown for your thoughts on the matter, and, possibly without intending to, made it clear that this isn’t about love or even your happiness. It is about influence, power, and ascension to something right under the Gods.

“He’s always wanted things to be perfect for us,” you say with a forced smile, though your mother doesn’t seem to notice the strain on your face, “Ever since we were little, it was always about making sure we made the right connections, the right alliances.”

Your mother looks up at you, not quite as oblivious as she tries to convince you of. Her smile softens, “It’s just his way, my dear. He wants the best for you, for all of us, and you like the General! I can tell.”

The best for him, perhaps. You dare ask a question that can only exist between women who understand that you live in a world ruled by men. “Mother, do you think he would have arranged this if General Acacius had been… cruel?”

The silence that follows is thick, and in that moment, you realize that the answer may not be one you want to hear. You stare at her, brows furrowed as you wait for her to say something, but in the end, she avoids your gaze completely. 

“It is time to leave,” she says instead and turns to Lupa and Nidia who have gone completely quiet, “My daughter needs escorting to the carriage. We cannot keep my husband waiting so close to the time of the ceremony.”

You swallow thickly but do not protest, a heavy feeling in your stomach as you are led out of your home, taking in the details of the surroundings that you grew up in for what feels like the last time.

—

Upon arrival at Marcus' estate, you are greeted by who you assume will be your new maid. Ismene is her name, a woman not much older than yourself but with rougher hands, the kind that have known hard labor. She wears a plain tunic and her hair tied back in a braid, curtsying as you step out of the carriage. 

You hear your mother tell Lupa and Nidia to stay back in case it’ll insult Ismene that you have brought maids from your home but Ismene just smiles, her eyes flicking up at you as she bows to catch a glimpse of who she will be serving from now on. 

“My lady,” she greets after stretching to her full height again, a twinkle in her gaze and a gut feeling telling you that she has no ill will towards you, “Everything is ready for you. The General has requested that you go to the gardens immediately where the ceremony will take place shortly.” 

She leads you and your mother through the mansion that is as beautiful as you remember it from yesterday. Except this time, seemingly overnight, the home has been decorated to be fit for festivities later. Your mother walks beside you, her expression calm, but you know her enough by now to sense the tension beneath the surface. She glances around the estate with careful eyes, not having been here before since your father refused it, and is perhaps judging the wealth and power of the man you are about to marry. Maybe, she may even be worrying for you.

You must screen your face from the sun in the gardens, but you still cannot help but notice the red roses and the ivy snaking their way around the columns that surround the spot chosen for the ceremony. Their colors are striking and beautiful against the white marble, eliciting a gasp of awe from your mother. What you also cannot help but notice is the return of the flutter of excitement that stirs in your belly, one that feels out of place among your adult worries. Everything is even more gorgeous than you had imagined in your childhood daydreams. 

“It’s beautiful, truly. The Gods have indeed favored us,” your mother praises in a whisper just as the three of you come to a halt. Ismene has stopped in her tracks just out of sight from the guests who are here to witness the marriage, and she is deliberately quiet to give you and your mother this last brief moment of privacy before everything changes. 

Your mother reaches out to gently touch your arm. In response, you turn to her and are met with her warm and reassuring smile. She cups your face and kisses your forehead. 

“Remember that father and I raised you to be strong,” she tells you with tears welling up in her eyes. You can feel your heart beating harshly against your chest as you recognize both fear and excitement on her face, and you suppose that there’s grief in her following this; her last child leaving home will be the end of her being needed. 

“Te amo in aeternum, Mamma (I love you forever, Mom),” you only just manage to say as your throat feels tight and you can hear footsteps approaching. 

You know it is your father by the commanding pace of the steps, the way the feet strike the earth with determination. He rounds the corner with a small smile on his lips as he sees you. 

“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you and immediately holds his arm out for you to take. There’s urgency in his voice even if it is tender at the sight of you, “It is time.”

“Are you ready?” Your mother interrupts, earning a glance from her husband. His presence somehow looms larger after that question, as if he wants to scoff at the thought that you could ever say no. He shakes his arm with an impatient smile when you still have not taken his arm. Clearly, this is not a moment for lingering but a moment for you to fulfill your duty.

You swallow hard and then you turn to your father. With a nod, you place your arm through his, “I’m ready.”

“Then let us not keep the General waiting,” he smiles.

The wedding ceremony is swift and takes place underneath the blazing sun of Rome. Marcus Acacius stands at the altar, his tall and broad figure exuding strength and importance. You feel drawn to the way he looks as he watches you walk down the pathway between the guests, stoic and calm in an attire that matches yours. You feel reassured by him because of this strength, that if everything fails, he will catch you.

When you stop in front of him and your father nods in a way that feels transactional, you swear that you can see his eyes soften. The officiant drones on but you don’t hear a word, the thoughts of last night when you were alone in your bed flooding your mind and causing your heartbeat to drown out noise around you. You can still feel the warmth of your own touch between your legs and it’s so consuming of your attention that you suddenly hear someone clearing their throat. 

“We will now perform the joining of hands, dear,” the officiant repeats and you can see that Marcus is already holding out his palm for you to place your own in. Your face is hot, your cheeks prickling with embarrassment but you recover by not letting it faze you. Marcus smiles ever so gently when your hand takes his and a leather band is wrapped around them. You say your promise to him like you have practiced so many times in the mirror back in your room.

Where he is your Gaius, you will be Gaia. Mother nature. The first goddess. The one who made sense of chaos. 

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia.”

–

In the early evening, the festivities begin with a banquet that makes the ones your father has hosted in the past pale in comparison. There’s people and food and people eating the food everywhere. Goblets get continuously filled by servants and bread with oil, butter, and cheese gets restocked as soon as it might look like serving platters are emptying out. However, it is not envy that you see on your parents’ faces as they take in the long table that abounds in the season’s most beautiful flowers laid out in rich displays of colors, or the most expensive foods that are replenished before anyone can take notice of their shortages, but rather pride in your mother’s eyes and some sort of distasteful greed in your father’s.

It makes you think of Cassius again, the idea of his stomach growling as he makes his way home from laboring in the fields surrounding your village. He would hate this, you think to yourself, the sight of the uppermost elite of society stuffing their faces but not for nourishment.

You look down at your hands when you start to feel bad for thinking of another man while sitting right next to your new husband. Yet Marcus doesn’t seem to notice the way your shoulders slump. He smiles warmly at each congratulations that he receives while you sit at the end of the same long table and you’re surprised to see that it comes off as genuine each time. He graciously lifts his goblet of wine as thanks, nodding to the faces of men his own age who approach with offerings and gifts. You’ve seen them steal glances at you when they think others haven’t noticed. 

You wonder if Marcus has, if he feels triumphant or enraged by the lingering appreciative stares that you receive right before they go back to their wine. 

It is to be expected with how beautiful your mother has made you for this day, you say to yourself in your new state as an object of desire, but still, you are without much appetite from being stared at. It makes you think of your wedding night and the duty that lies within it. As a comfort, you reach for your goblet of wine frequently throughout the evening and completely ignore the delicious smell of roasted meats and the sight of shiny green grapes and berries that you have on your plate. Right now, they make you feel sick. 

Sensing your discomfort, Marcus holds his hand up to stop an approaching guest and turns his attention to you. His gaze follows the movement of your hand as you lift the goblet to your slightly-stained lips once more. Gently, he reaches out and covers your hand with his, taking the cup away from you.

“No more wine. I don’t want you to feel unwell on our night together,” he says simply and firmly but there’s affection in his command, a concern for your wellbeing. It’s the first time that you see a glimpse of the man you met yesterday. He makes you fold quickly, nod with embarrassment as you in return stare sheepishly at him while he sets down the goblet out of your reach. 

“Of course, my legatus,” you hurry to say, remembering how your mother had urged you to show respect by referring to his rank. You offer him a hesitant smile, “You’re right.”

“I know this is not easy for a maiden as young as you, and I must admit that it is all very overwhelming even for me,” he gives you a smile in return, allowing himself to show brief vulnerability to ease your mind, “But there’s no need to dull your senses, Carrissima.”

“It was not my intention to make you feel like I was unappreciative—“

“I did not think you were,” he interrupts before you can tear yourself down in an effort to humble yourself. He places a hand on yours underneath the table, “Are you pleased with the celebration? I never notice if others are enjoying the festivities. I admit I seek solitude more often than company in these situations.”

“It is beautiful, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you reply with a nod and realize that you find the conversation less terrifying now. You blame your ease on the amount of wine you have already consumed, “If you want reassurance, a woman can always tell if people are enjoying themselves.”

“And what is your verdict?” Marcus brushes his thumb over the back of your hand. You hide the shiver that goes up your spine, breathe deeply to steady your heart after it has skipped at least a few beats. He must know what his touch does to you after feeling it yesterday.

A burst of laughter from a table nearby catches both of your attention. A group of guests are engaged in lighthearted discussions, chatting cheerfully with each other and getting up when the musicians strike up a song made for dancing. 

You observe them for a moment before turning back to Marcus again, but before you can answer, a man approaches your table with what you assume is more congratulations. You make a mental note to be more present in this, to show your husband and his guests that you are in favor of the union. However, the man leans in close to Marcus, whispering something in his ear. 

You notice a subtle shift in Marcus’s demeanor; the previous warmth in his eyes momentarily replaces itself with a focused seriousness. He nods at the messenger, who quickly slips away into the crowd before you can even register what he looks like.

“Is everything all right?” You ask with curiosity and concern. 

“Yes, nothing to worry about. Just a small matter that needed my attention. I apologize for the interruption,” he assures you but hardly satisfies your curiosity. The seriousness vanishes completely in favor of softness as soon as he looks at you again, “Forgive me for forgetting but I must compliment the jasmine flowers in your wedding crown. They suit my bride perfectly.”

The sudden change in his tone makes your heart flutter, and you realize how intentional his words are, as if to draw you back into the moment with him. You reach up to feel the soft petals of the flowers with your fingertips. You smile genuinely at him, shy from the compliment, “It was already weaved this morning but I remembered you mentioning that jasmine is your favorite.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You remembered our conversation.”

“I wanted to show that I was attentive,” you reply, feeling a connection that wasn’t there just a moment before.

“You’ve certainly succeeded,” he replies with a pleased grin at being surprised by you.

The sunset has crept up on you while you have been in conversation with Marcus for a while, the plate in front of you suddenly having been emptied by you without much thought. You only register the darkness of the night when guests have started to get up from their seats to say goodbye and go home, and panic starts to rise in your throat when the crowd thins out enough for Marcus to send the rest home. 

You've known this night would come, and yet as you get up from your seat, standing right in the middle of all the many tables, it feels like it is brand new information that comes hurtling towards you and frightens you even further. 

With a lump in your throat, you watch the last few faces take their leave, observing how Marcus says goodbye to what you assume are the most important guests. 

When everything is quiet except for the servants’ footsteps, your parents approach you. Your mother is the first to talk, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“My dear, it’s been a wonderful celebration,” she says, gently squeezing you in an embrace. “We’re so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Mother. I’m so grateful you were here to share it with me,” you reply, accepting her embrace warmly and almost desperately due to your anxiety. You can feel her tense up when she realizes that you are hugging her to soothe yourself but she doesn’t say anything. 

Your father stands by quietly. He only nods approvingly when Marcus joins the three of you, “A splendid event. We’re confident our daughter is in good hands.”

Marcus bows his head respectfully, “You have my word that she is.”

Your father turns to you, his expression of importance softening just a bit, “Remember what we’ve taught you, my daughter. Honor and family are paramount.”

“I understand, Father,” you assure him, avoiding his eyes. The surprisingly cool interaction between father and daughter catches Marcus’ attention, and the step he takes closer to you is almost unnoticeable. You feel his arm accidentally brushing yours but you swear that there’s a sort of protectiveness in the featherlight touch even if it is unintentional. It makes exchanging farewells easier.

“Perhaps we should retire as well,” he suggests when your parents are out of sight, “Goddess Nox has already spread her veil across the sky for a while.”

"Yes, I suppose it is time,” you glance up at the stars above, feeling the cool night air against your skin. You wish he would ground you like before.

The both of you make your way to your shared chambers. The short walk feels longer than it should, the weight of the moment pressing down on you with each step. You glance at your husband as he walks beside you, his calm and steady demeanor sharply in contrast with the growing nervousness inside you. The walls of the corridor are lined with flickering torches, and they seem to stretch on endlessly. Though nothing lasts forever and eventually you come to a halt, the door in front of you leading you to your wedding night.

This is it.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[nocturne-overtures]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Summary:

Jisung and you are moving in together and he stumbles across your chest of toys. Now seems like a good time to use them, no?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Pairing: Fem! Reader x Han Jisung (SKZ)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥WC: 4.3k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Genres/Aus: Humor, Romance, Established Relationship, Smut

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Sws: Sex Toys, Lingerie, Cunnilingus, Sexual Instruction, Waxplay, Safeword Established, Blindfolds, Blowjob,

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Rating: Explicit (18+)/Minors DNI

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥A/N: Another one down~ Thank you for the commission as always @jacksons-goddess-gaia, I hope you enjoy ;)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Network Ping: @kwritersworld | @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Wanna support me? Reblogs are highly encouraged! I also have a Kofi

𓆩⟡𓆪©nocturne-overtures. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MDNI and Divder credit to @benkeibear thank you!

“Can you help me with this box?”

Jisung poked his head out from the kitchen, quickly making his way over to you and smiling, bending to take the other end of the box in your hands. Slowly, you move to set it into your new bedroom, smiling from ear to ear as you put your hands on your hips. 

It was a lot of work, but finally, you’d gotten to the end of bringing in all the boxes from the moving truck. After months of planning and over two years of dating, you and Jisung decided to move in together. 

It certainly wasn’t easy, but you were ecstatic to be here, though you dodged under your partner’s arms when he tried to hug you, lips puckered for a kiss. 

Jisung lets out a scandalized gasp and you send him a playful look, shaking your head. 

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I’m gross and sweaty, Ji. Wait until I shower and I promise we can kiss and cuddle as much as your heart can take.” You move past him, shedding clothing along the way. There’s an unintelligible sound behind you, and you catch Jisung covering his eyes behind you. 

“You’ve seen me naked before.” 

“So? I’m still a gentleman.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat as you disappeared into the bathroom. Jisung always got shy when he saw you in states of undress. It was as cute as it was funny, even after all this time. 

Idly, you consider inviting him into the shower just to watch his face go red, but you decide to leave him be for the time being. 

“Is it really bad if I want you to see, though?” You muse as you pass, laughing at the keyboard smash that left his lips.

Outside, Jisung looked at the boxes and decided he couldn’t sit still, opening some of the ones closest to him. He noticed some of your summer clothes in the first one, moving to put them in the dresser. A smile came to his face as he took his time folding, the mere sight of some of them reminding him of previous dates the two of you had gone on. 

When that was done, he moved on to the next box, setting various skin care products and perfume bottles on top of the dresser so you can put them away later however you see fit. 

Jisung smiled, hearing you sing in the shower a room over. He found himself mouthing the words, singing under his breath in unison with you as he stopped at a hand-crafted medium-sized rounded chest. He blinked in surprise and began to lift it out of the box it had been situated in, cushioned with crumpled newspaper to keep it from getting jostled around in transport. 

It was heavier than he expected, and it slipped out of his hands, tumbling back into the box after he flailed and screamed in a panic, not wanting to drop it to the floor and break it. The lid to it opened in the scramble, and the first thing Jisung noticed were teeth .

No, not literal ones. The inside of the chest had protrusions that resembled teeth and it took Jisung a few blinks of disbelief to realize the chest was supposed to be a mimic. 

Of course, she keeps her things in a mimic chest. Nerd-

The humor in his mind immediately melted away into startled shock when he realized what had fallen out of the chest. 

Scattered all over his feet were various sex toys and accessories that went alongside them. 

Dildos of various sizes and colors, vibrators, a cock ring with a tag that read ‘puppy’ on it.

A harness for a strap-on, flavored lube, and throat relaxant spray. 

Blindfold, a gag shaped like a bone, skin-safe candles,  an anal plug.

Jisung stared, kneeling to pick up the fallen toys, his eyes the size of saucers as he looked at each one. 

Some of them were, uh, quite intimidating, if he was being honest. Between the length of some and the girth of others, Jisung couldn’t help but to have his mind wander, thinking about you using the very toys in his hands on yourself. 

“Ji, if you want to take a shower I put your things-”

You stop short in the doorway, holding the towel around yourself as Jisung stared at you like a deer in headlights, holding a bottle of lube in one hand and a thrusting vibrator in the other. 

A beat of silence passed between the two of you before you burst into laughter, nearly dropping the towel as Jisung apologized to you in a rushed panic. 

“ImSOsorry,Ididn’tmeanto-”

“You’re good! It's alright. I just gotta wash them again.” You have a noticeable blush on your face as well, but you take the moment in stride, gathering your things and putting them back in the chest one by one, your hands brushing against Jisung’s every now and again as he tried to help.

When you’re finished, you give him a kiss, pressing your lips to his cheek and standing back up after closing the lid to your toy chest. 

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk out of the room, humming a tune to a pop song as you take the time to meticulously clean the toys one by one. 

Jisung joined you part of the way, peeking very clearly as he got into the shower himself. You can tell he wants to ask you more, but the noticeable way he adverted his gaze when you looked up and locked eyes with him made you snort ever so slightly. 

You let a few minutes go by before you tilt your head toward the shower to ask;

“Do you want to use them with me?”

There’s a bump somewhere in the shower, and a collection of fumbled noises falling from Jisung’s mouth follow suit before his head comes flying out of the curtain, eyes wide. 

“ What?”

You smile at him, making a point to comb your gaze up and down his face, shoulders, and chest before biting your thumbnail lightly. 

“I said,” You sit up straighter;

“Do you want to use the sex toys together with me?”

Jisung stared at you, jaw slack. You can tell the cogs are turning rapidly in his head as you watch even the tip of his ears tinge pink. He cleared his throat, nodding once. 

“Yeah, I mean…Yeah, if you want.”

You smile and stand up, making your way over to the curtain, cupping his cheek, and stealing a kiss. 

“Enjoy your shower~ I’ll be waiting for you.” You send him a wink and run your eyes down the expanse of his body before walking away. It took everything in you not to break face or laugh as a series of jumbled (and panicked) sounds leave his lips as the door closes behind you. 

By the time Jisung is peeking into the room, you have the lights dimmed and you’re adjusting the strap to one of your favorite lingeries, the deep red contrasting against your skin. Jisung stood in the doorframe, staring, eyes combing up and down your body before you see him visibly bite his lip. 

Want, need, excitement.

You smile and turn to face him, walking over to him in a few strides. Jisung noticed you’re taller than you usually are, and you’re eye level with him this time. His eyes shoot down, landing on the pretty heels you’d put on. 

“Fuck,” He breathed out, inhaling sharply when you reach and place your hand on his chest. His skin was dry, but still soft and heated from the shower. Jisung looked at you with doe-like excited eyes, biting his lip as you pushed him gently, lightly pinning him against the door and pressing into him. 

“Tonight, we’ll use some of them together, okay? Do you mind if I lead?” You give him the time to answer, idly raking your fingers down his chest. You can feel the thrum of his heartbeat through the pads of your fingers and he nods quickly.

“I didn’t hear you, I’m sorry~” You faux pout, your fingers stopping at the towel tied around his hips. Jisung let out a shaky laugh, staring at your hand before he bit his lip. 

“I don’t mind. Tell me how I can make you feel good with them.” 

You smile and hook your finger into the towel, tugging once and holding his gaze as it falls to the floor, leaving him completely bare to you. 

Jisung’s cheeks grow darker, but he doesn’t break your gaze, something that brings a smile to your face as you press your lips to his neck, kissing along his Adam’s apple while you slowly cup and palm his cock.

He exhales shakily, once again stuttering as he opened his mouth to speak;

“C-Can I touch you? Or do I like, need permission?” He’s red all the way to his ears and you laugh softly at his earnest questions. 

“Of course you can touch me. We can save the more….’strict’ play for another day. I’m just going to…guide you? Yeah.” You nod, and both of you share a soft laugh before you lean in to kiss him.

His hands are on you in an instant, cupping and squeezing your ass while your fingers curl around his shaft, stroking at your own set pace as you deepen the kiss the moment he groaned for you. 

“I didn’t expect you to get so excited just finding my toys.” You tease, giggling against his lips as he kneaded your cheeks. You can feel him throbbing in your hand and it nearly took him a full minute before he responded. 

“Mm…of course I got excited. Thinking of all those late nights you must have been using them, making a mess, thinking of me. We live together now, Y/N. I get to be part of that.” He ducked his head down, kissing at your shoulder. You can feel him inhale softly, and you almost laugh again from the ticklish feeling before you perk at the audible growl that slips past his lips. 

“ Fuck , and you wore the perfume I love. You’re trying to ruin me tonight, aren’t you?” He sighed, slowly rolling his hips and thrusting into your hand. You smile and close your fingers around him, stroking slowly as you tilt your head up to give him more space to explore and bite down. 

Jisung’s lips are soft against your skin. You hear every groan and gasp resonate in your head before you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging just light enough for him to moan and pull off of you lightly. He glanced at you, eyes hooded as the two of you held each other’s gaze. 

“We can spend all day kissing against the door or we can move on to the next part.”

Jisung visibly perked for you, smiling and letting you guide him back to the bed. You sit down at the edge, reaching behind you and handing him one of the oversized plushies you had collected over the years. He seemed amused, setting it on the floor and kneeling on it. 

“I want you to eat me to start with, okay?” You pull the thin lace of your lingerie aside, revealing yourself to him. Your heart fluttered in excitement at the way his eyes locked on your pussy for a moment.

Jisung kissed your inner thigh in response and spread your folds with two fingers, holding your gaze as dragged his tongue between your folds, curling his tongue over your clit in a figure eight before delving in. 

You keep your hand on his head, petting silken brunette strands gently as you keen and moan for him, subtly scooting closer to the edge of the bed. 

You could give him instructions later, Jisung had spent plenty of time between your legs like this, and it still pleased you at just how excited he got when he got to eat you out. 

He’d come untouched one time because of it, moaning your name and thrusting up into nothing as his face glistened from your release. 

The visual from your memory made you clench ever so slightly and Jisung growled, hands landing on your thighs to gently push them apart, his tongue slowly curling up between your petals before kissing at your clit. 

You share a deep, heated gaze with him, using your nails to scratch lightly at his scalp, humming softly as you roll your hips slightly. 

“You always do so well for me, Jisung.” You lower your voice, smiling at the way his eyes focused sharply on you. He groaned against your core, pulling you closer by your ass with one of his hands. 

You laugh softly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and tilting your head to the side. 

“How did I get so lucky, mm? You’re such a good boy for me.” You praise him softly, the glow from the candles dancing over your skin as the flames flickered now and again. 

Jisung groaned, pressing closer to your cunt, his nose flush against your core, staring lovingly up at you. Your smile grows wider and you brush your fingers over his ears, reveling in the sensitive shudder that the move makes rock through his body. 

“Ji, you have to come up for air, my love. Mm, we can’t have me getting too stimulated before the real fun starts.” You try to warn him, though your body betrays you, if the way you roll your hips down for more was anything to go by. 

Jisung considered persisting, you can see it in the way his eyes narrowed in challenge before he eventually let up, licking his lips slowly and leaning in as you reach down to pet and caress his rounded cheeks.

“You’re trembling.” He muttered, blowing lightly on your pussy and smiling as you jolt in surprise. You shoot him a look before clearing your throat, beckoning for him to come up to your level. 

Jisung took his time, making sure his blood began flowing well back into his legs before he let you pull him into a kiss, whimpering softly as you reach between his legs to stroke and grope at his cock. 

“All this for me?” You muse teasingly, laughing at the way he nipped your bottom lip. 

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna instruct me?” He huffed. You pull away slightly, an amused smile crossing your face as you lock eyes with him. 

He’s pouting. 

“Very well. Get the blindfold and those candles off of the nightstand.”

Jisung paused, brow furrowing as he glanced behind him. Sure enough, there was a silk blindfold sitting on the nightstand, and beside it were wax candle sticks that were a beautiful shade of red. 

“Isn’t that going to hurt?”

“No, cutie. Those are meant for this type of play.”

Jisung blinked for a moment before he moved to collect the items, as well as the long lighter that was just off to the side of them. 

“If its too much, I’ll use a safeword.”

“We don’t have one. We should probably have one. What’s a good one to have?”

You reach and stroke his arm, endeared by the way he began to fret about possibly harming you. 

“How about…’chipmunk?’” 

You both share a look before bursting out into laughter. 

“It’s ridiculous, sounds like a plan.” 

You raise up so Jisung can put the blindfold on you. His fingers were warm as they lightly brushed against your ears and you nearly laugh at the ticklish sensation before you feel those same fingers move down to your chin, tilting your head up. 

“Anything off limits?”

“No hair, no holes.”

Another beat of silence passes between you before another small fit of laughter. Slowly, you lie back on the pillow and bite your lip in anticipation as you hear the lighter. 

“You look beautiful like this.” Jisung’s voice is soft and tender. You smile, your lip still trapped between your teeth before a gasp slipped past them as Jisung grabbed the lace bra portion of your lingerie, tugging down and exposing your chest to the night air. 

Before any instruction left your lips, you let out a pleasured yelp as the first couple of drops of the candle’s wax landed on your breast. 

“Oh! Oh-mm-” Once the shock settled, you reach above you, grabbing the bars of the headboard to keep your hands occupied as you wait in anticipation for the next set of warm drops along your skin. 

“You can, mm…use the vibrator near the pillow on me if you feel like you can use both hands. It’s a- ah shit- a thruster.” You squirm and moan as warm drops roll down your chest, your shoulder, your thigh, and your stomach. Jisung doesn’t respond verbally, and for a moment you consider repeating yourself before his hand came around to pull your thigh further apart. 

You oblige him, spreading them apart, trembling as you try to listen for him as he stands. 

Drip, then drop. 

Your stomach tightened as four drops land on them, racing down the center of your body for a few moments before cooling and stilling. 

Drop~ 

Drip~

One landed between the valley of your breasts, another, on the inside of your thigh. 

“We should do this more often. You’re dripping from how excited you are.” Jisung’s voice is coming from somewhere from your left, and you instinctively turn your head over in that direction. Fingers brush along your right cheek, but you turn in that direction soon after. 

There’s a silence that stretches in the room before a small ‘pop’.

It’s the cap to a bottle of lube, and you give your body a small wiggle, getting settled as you try to strain your ears to hear Jisung well enough. 

The springs in your bed creak as Jisung kneels onto it, leaning over your body and kissing the top of your head. 

“Does it feel good?” He whispered into your ear. You clench on nothing, shaking in anticipation before nodding, nearly breathless from the intimacy. 

“You’re supposed to be instructing me, aren’t you?” Jisung teased, rubbing the toy between your folds as he kissed down from your ear to your jaw and then back up to your lips. 

You open your mouth to continue your instructions, but anything you were going to say goes out the window when you hear an audible click followed by buzzing. 

Your back arched as the toy vibrated right against your clit. 

“Oops.” Jisung chuckled against the skin of your collarbone, rubbing the toy up and down against you while your grip on the headboard tightened. 

“F-Fuck, that’s not fair-”

“I just want to make you feel good, y’know.” Jisung hummed, reaching up and undoing the blindfold with his free hand. You meet his eyes, making sure he knew how good you were feeling by holding his gaze. 

“S-slowly, you can put it in and raise it to the second mmm…the second level.”

Jisung looked down, pushing the vibrator into you and biting his lip at the sound that escaped you when part of the toy settled against your clit, buzzing at a stronger intensity as Jisung wasted no time in following your previous order and pressing the button. 

Jisung leaned into your space, nudging you until you raised your head to kiss him. He started slow, pumping the toy in and out of you at his own rhythm, all while taking his time to kiss you, mapping out every inch of your mouth and swallowing down every breathless moan and gasp you treated him to. 

“L-Like that…mm, this…this one is my favorite, y’know. Its the one I use when you’re out town and I want to- shit, Jisung- nn…when I want to think about you the most.” 

You fight the urge to arch, glancing down at your own body and clenching when you saw all the ribbons of dried wax adorning your skin. Jisung had done a good job of not getting it on the lingerie itself, too.

“Your favorite, hm?” Jisung kissed the top of your head, his own heart fluttering at the visual of you pleasuring yourself with the very same toy in his hand. 

“Th-the second button. The one b-below the one by your thumb. P-press and hold it for a few- fuck!” You arch up against his chest, grabbing his shoulders as the thrusting part of the toy was turned on. 

Jisung looped one of his arms around your waist, smiling with a glint in his eye as he drank in every expression on your face. 

You would realize later that you’d lost part of the night’s play, since all forms of instruction went out of the window. Jisung licked his lips ever so slightly, nodding in approval as your voice raised an octave the closer you got to your release. 

“Jisung!”

“I’m right here, baby. I got you, its okay.” He spoke softly, aching between his legs as he watched you squirm beneath him, clenching for dear life on the toy.

His grip on you tightened as you finally unravel in his arms, your nails digging bluntly into his arms as the toy continued to buzz and thrust inside of you. 

Your mouth falls open. One, two, three seconds go by before a loud cry of pleasure fell from them. Jisung chuckled, noticing you’d clenched so tight that the thrusting of the poor toy came to a stop. 

“God, Y/n, did it feel that good?” He teased you, at least being merciful enough to turn the toy off before he slowly pulled it out of you, setting it far enough out of the way so it wouldn’t get rolled over on by accident. 

You pant, looking up at him in a blissed daze before cracking a smile and pulling him down into a kiss. Jisung went without resistance, groaning softly before a muffled noise left his lips as you threw your weight, rolling so he was under you. 

He looked up at you, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips as you climbed on top of him, pressing your heads together. 

“Did I do a good job?” Jisung inquired, his lips quirking as a light blush dusted over his cheeks. You smile and steal a kiss before trailing your hand down his chest.

“Of course you did. Give me a second to get my bearings back and I’ll use one on you while I ride you.” You promise, scooting down his body. Jisung perked in surprise, eyes widening.

“Wait, what?”

You look up at him after settling yourself between his legs, mirroring him from earlier. You take hold of his cock, stroking with slow, languid strokes as your lips curl up, already formulating a 3 step plan to make him come undone involving no less than two more vibrators and possibly bringing the blindfold back. 

Instead of divulging in your plan, you simply lean over the bed and into the chest you’d left open on the nightstand, grabbing two bullet vibes and two silicone finger slips. 

Jisung watched you curiously, tilting his head to the side as he watched you push the vibes into the ribbed silicone finger slips and coat them in a light layer of lube.

“What is that for?” He inquired, thighs flexing as you crawl back between them. You smile, grabbing his shaft and grinning as he jolted, feeling the vibrations right underneath the crown of his cock. 

You take your time, stroking up an down a you hold his gaze. He quickly found out, jerking his hips and groaning at the foreign-but welcomed-sensation. 

“Y-Y/n-”

You fondle his balls, spurrened on by both the whimpers and growls falling from Jisung’s lips. 

“Does it feel good, Ji?” You inquire, smiling from ear to ear as his thighs shook. He opened his mouth to respond but it fell short when you place both of the fingers with the vibrators right over his slit. 

“FUCK!”

You stroke and caress him, watching his expression carefully with a twinkle in your eye as you tease him relentlessly with the pleasurable buzzing, tracing them all over his cock and balls. 

Jisung’s fists curl into the sheets, his eyes closing as he groaned, creeping closer and closer to the edge. 

“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep up.”

“Go ahead, we’re not done tonight.” You purr, grabbing the base of his cock and stroking quickly while you lower your mouth, kissing and licking the head while keeping your eyes on your boyfriend’s face. 

Jisung had been patient all night, but the moment he forced his eyes open and looked down, his body locked up as his eyes landed on yours. 

You hold still as he came into your mouth, a whimper and a groan falling from his lips. You keep still, making sure each wave rolled through him before you pull away, licking your lips and taking the finger vibes off. 

Jisung ran a hand through his hair, dazed and disoriented while you laugh, straddling him. 

“You okay?”

He rose a finger, still panting. 

“Gimme a sec, you vixen. I can’t recover that damn fast. I’ve never used the cumminator 3000 and it's buddies on myself like you.”

You snort slightly, leaning down to lay on him, kissing at his face until he placed a weak and tired kiss to his lips. Maybe you would cut him a break and let him gather his bearings before lovingly bullying him by riding him. 

You place a kiss to his adam’s apple.

“Fineee, I’ll get you some water in a sec. Next time, there will be more surprises in store.”

Jisung rose his head, looking at your back as you roll out of bed. 

“What do you mean more? Y/n?? Hey!”

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Taglist

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@jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @gettin-a-lil-hanse @angel0taiyo @stardragongalaxy @xuxibelle @twistedsiren @soluvcore @shingisimp @drunk-on-hwa @asyamonet22 @universe-sighted @netcookie @skmoonchild @babiebumm @violetwinters @xlilehx @yunhofingers

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere love letter from Zeus and Poseidon to a pregnant reader pls? (Maybe Zeus's reader is worried of Hera's wrath on her)

Zeus

My love,

My love for you transcends any limits, it is an overwhelming passion that consumes me completely. Seeing the life blossom within you brings me an indescribable ecstasy, but it also ignites an uncontrollable fire within me.

At this time in our lives, my determination to protect you and our baby is unwavering and unbreakable. I solemnly swear that I will face any obstacle, any adversity, and any threat she may throw at us.

With each passing day, my mind is haunted by the shadow she casts over us. Her jealousy and anger are known to all, and the love I feel for you only increases my anxiety. Every thought of possible threats she might pose to you and our child's safety torments me in an overwhelming way.

My beloved, I would do anything to keep you and our precious baby safe, even if it means eliminating any threat that dares to get in our way.

May this letter testify to the profound oath I make to you and to the life that burgeons within you. My beloved, trust me, for I am willing to brave heaven and earth to protect what is ours.

May this letter testify to the profound oath I make to you and to the life that burgeons within you. My beloved, trust me that I am willing to stand up to the titans and Gaia herself to protect what is mine.

With a heart that's yours entirely,

Zeus.

Poseidon

My beloved,

Every wave that kisses the shore carries with it the echo of my passion for you, a passion that has blossomed into an unwavering devotion that knows no bounds. Knowing that a new being, fruit of our ardent love, is growing inside you awakens an indescribable joy and, at the same time, a concern that threatens to consume my reason.

From the moment you came into my life, my heart was engulfed by an overwhelming wave of love and protection for you. The news that you are carrying our child fills my being with uncontrollable ecstasy and worry.

However, allow me to express my growing concern about the safety of you two. Wild imagination haunts me with visions of dangers that could threaten your life and that of our baby. The fear that even the treacherous waters might conspire against you consumes my mind.

I swear by the seas I rule, my beloved, that I will shape the seas into impassable shields to protect you from any evil that dares approach. No tumultuous currents or raging storm will dare even touch your delicate skin. Our connection runs as deep as the very depths of the oceans I rule, and my love with you is more powerful than the pull of the tides.

May this letter testify to the intensity of my commitment, my beloved. Be mine and mine alone, that I may protect and adore you forever.

Take care, my queen of the deep, and know that my devotion to you and our child is fiercer than the storm itself.

With possession and fervor,

Poseidon.

[bullet-prooflove]

Ten Years: Dean Winchester x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @deanobssessedgirl @cosmic-psychickitty @cinderellasmissingshoes

Companion piece to:

Gatlinburg - Dean falls in love in a tiny town in Tennessee.

With You - Dean tells you he's going to stay the night.

You, Me & Tennessee - Dean always returns to Tennessee.

On The Mountain - Dean wishes he was back on the Mountain with you.

Feral (NSFW) - Dean gets feral when he sees you with another man.

Six Pack (NSFW) - You realise the man waiting for you isn't Dean Winchester.

Memories (NSFW) - Michael invades your home whilst you're away.

Sweet Dreams - Dean thinks about how this all started.

Deals With the Devil (feat: Michael)- You wake up with an angel in your bed.

The night that Michael shows up in your bed, is the night you end up at the Fire Tower indefinitely. Your supervisor is happy for the help because things on the mountain they’ve gotten a little wilder recently and you know that’s a reaction to the archangel that’s currently residing in your home.

Michael’s presence is fucking with the eco system, tipping the careful balance that you and the other forest rangers have spent years trying to maintain because the mountain doesn’t like it when others encroach on its territory. The spirit is old, dawn of time kind of old. The magic that guards the National Park it’s ancient, primordial, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping Michael away from you because even archangels know better than to fuck with Gaia.

You check your phone for the millionth time before you settle yourself into the metal single bed. Every ranger that stays in the tower tries to make it home for their rotation. You flick on the fairy lights that hang around the edge of the window as you tug the grey fleece lined blanket up to your chest. Dean brought it back to you after one of his trips because he knows it gets cold up here on the mountain.

You’ve been trying to call Sam since you found the archangel in your bed but it goes straight to voicemail. You turn it off and set it on the crate you use as a nightstand before you snuggle down into the blanket. The scent of Dean’s aftershave still clings to it from the last time the two of you were up here, making love to the sound of rain pattering against the windows.

As you lie there, your eyes fixed on the lights your mind drifts to Michael’s offer.

“All I’m asking for is one night.” He had whispered against your skin. “One night where I get to feel what he feels, that I get to experience you, enjoy you. You can have him back after that, you can be with the man you love again. Don’t you want that?”

You want that more than anything but the cost, it’s just too great because Dean will never forgive himself, it would torture him to the end of his days and you can’t do that to the man you love.

During your second night on the mountain, you ignite the firepit in the clearing at the base of the tower before setting up two camping chairs, close to the flames. You snap off the bottle caps off two IPAs from the microbrewery in town before placing one in the cupholder of the spare chair.

It doesn’t take long for your guest to join you. It never does once you’ve cracked open that first beer and this brand Mountain Brew, it’s his favourite. You hear the wind rustling through the trees before Guy steps out into the clearing, his hands tucked into the pockets of the black aviator jacket. He wears worn Levis and a threadbare navy blue Airforce cap on top of a thick head of white hair. He’s been this way ever since the day your father first brought you here at the age of eight to meet the spirit of the mountain. The rangers in this region are all legacy families, it’s in your blood to protect the people here from the things that go bump in the night.

“I’m gonna be here for a while.” You find yourself telling him as you stare into the fire. “Things out there…”

You trail off because you aren’t sure how to explain what’s happening in the outside world.

“It’s your hunter isn’t it?” He says as he drops into the empty chair beside you, picking up the IPA. “Somethings happened to him.”

The spirit of the mountain, it likes Dean. It has since that nightmare with the Wendigos. His affection for you, the fact that he cleans up after himself and deals with the shit that needs to be dealt with in, all of that has endeared him to Guy.

“The two of you make a good match.” Guy had told him one night when the three of you were roasting smores. “I couldn’t have picked a better mate for a daughter of the mountain.”

“What does he mean by that?” Dean had asked you later, his head propped up on his arm as he watches you undress from his position in the bed. “Daughter of the forest?”

You’d explained your heritage then, how the rangers in this town were descended from Gaia, how every single one of you was connected to this forest in some way which is why you protect it.

“And now you know everything.” You had told him as you lingered at the side of the bed, wearing one of his t-shirts. “Does it change anything for you?”

“Nah, I knew you were special.” He’d told you as he caught your hand, pulling you down on top him before he gathers you up in his arms. “A little bummed out that you’re not one of the X-Men though.”

“Yea it sucks.” You’d said as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. “No powers, just a shotgun and a ranger’s uniform.”

“You do look hot with a shotgun though.” He’d reminded you, his fingertips combing lightly through your hair. “And in uniform.”

Over beers in the present you tell Guy about the situation with Dean and with Michael. He listens diligently and without judgement, his expression remaining impassive throughout.

“There’s a way.” He says after a few minutes of silence. “But it’ll require some sacrifice on your part.”

“Anything.” You say resolutely and he sets his empty beer bottle down alongside the others.

“I can make a weapon.” He confides in you, his thumb peeling at label on the bottle.  “Something that can kill Michael, that will leave the hunter intact.”

“What’s the catch?” You ask and he inclines his head towards you, his lips pursed together grimly.

“Ten years.” He says and you frown because you don’t understand the meaning behind his words. “Crafting something like that, something that can kill an archangel it takes a lot of power, power I’m currently using to lock down some of the bigger grizzles that wander these parts.”

He means the monsters that he keeps caged, the ones that would tear apart the region if he didn’t keep a firm grasp on them. You deal with the small stuff, the ones that pick off campers and steal small children but anything bigger than that..

Well let’s just say you’d all be fucked.

“If I create this weapon it’ll leave me weak, things will start to slip and …”

The sentence hangs in the air and you know exactly where this is going.

“You’ll need to draw energy from me to stop that from happening and the only way you can do that is if I’m here on the mountain.” You sigh as he gives you that look, the one you’ve come to know so well.

“It takes ten years to replenish that kind of expenditure.” He explains, setting out the parameters. “That means you won’t be able to cross the boundary where the National Park ends. You’ll have to give up your freedom, your home, the life you have...”

It means that you’ll be stranded here like Rapunzel in the Fire Tower, on an indefinite watch for the next decade. The alternative doesn’t seem much better because as long as Michael’s out there, you can’t leave the shelter of the mountain anyway without putting yourself in danger. That archangel, he’s going to snap soon and it’s going to be violent and bloody when he does.

At least this way Dean will be free, he won’t be trapped in his own mind, screaming and clawing at the walls.

“Ten years.” You say quietly before you take a sip of your beer. “I can do ten years.”

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[thatbitchery]

Of all the damage pseudo- spirituality has done to the human society, manifesting and femininity are constantly fighting for a top spot in my brain. Manifesting at LEAST has a truth to it and was going fine until all the online course gurus did their thing- femininity is just. What even. & if this only damaged the dating world which it was created to cater to I wouldn't mind so much but well.

The idea of 'dark' and 'light' femininity especially- what even. The human species is so interesting to me bc we will do everything but be natural. No other animal or plant does this, mind you. Not even orcas.

By "Light Feminine" do you mean blonde, blue eyes, pink make up and etiquette? By 'dark feminine' do you mean also white but black hair and darker (tanned) skin, dark eyeliner and manipulative? Basically Sabrina Carpenter X Megan Fox AU? ? I've read so much on both and literally NONE of that is femininity. Look at the world around you? Look at the feminine around you. The females of animals. The earth. The sea. Our mothers. Which of them acts like that? I want you to point to lioness or hamsterette (whatever female hamsters are called) and say okay so that is in it's light feminine and that's in it's dark. No no seriously. I'll even sponsor the whole expedition. I'm so curious. What feminine is the earth? Biege?

Femininity, is indifference. THAT IS IT. It is self centeredness. It is reciprocity. Everything else is masculine.

As a species I think sometimes we forget the maternal instinct is so strong in human females because we used to kill our kids? And not even millions of years ago I'm talking couple thousand? Hera? HERA. Sorry do you not watch Nat Geo? Have you never had a female pet? Maternal instinct is stronger that paternal because women are more likely to kill our children and end the species because femininity is serve me or die, and the only thing a child can serve is your maternal needs- , you know this right? You know lionesses kill their cubs when their daddy loses a fight? That hamsters eat their kids when they cant raise them to get back their nutrients? Spiders, have you heard of that? Natural selection, do you understand how that works? Female bees, you know hat they do to their males right? The earth, the epitome of femininity, Gaia- how long have you been alive? Your mom and your dad- and I mean the most loving mom vs the shittiest dads- who scares you more? Your sister or your brother?

Femininity, at its very core, is self-serving and indifferent what is that nurturing shit who came up with that and how blind are they? They had to invent entire complex religions and social norms to force women into giving birth what do you mean when you say you're naturally submissive? Admit you were watching corn on tumblr at 15 and it's conditioning what do you mean naturally? What nature where. Show me. Tell me yes it's natural for me to sleep around and get nothing in return its empowered look how this female does it too in nature. If you don't want to call it conditioning ok but nature? It's natural? Gaslighting your own self is crazy work but okay. Indifference is the only natural way to be feminine. Self serving. Nature watching her children fight for existence and only keeping the strongest, do you know how ruthless natural selection is? That's feminine because if you don't serve me why are you here? The most feminine women are the most self-serving. Shera7 entire aura is feminine because we all know she's selfish. The women that are self serving and centered win. And not just self-serving, self-centered to total indifference. I don't know why you want me to care about that but on the grounds it does not concern me, I will not be giving AF any time today and I'm offended you expect me to- indifference. I will be fine anyway mentality (WHEN IF WE TALK ABOUT JOURNALLING REMIND ME TO TALK AB THIS). This, also, is the baseline to manifesting by the way. I won't go there, ever, but if you want to manifest understand this- I will be okay regardless so why would I care? Not all that stuff you keep doing with the sage and numbers and maladaptive daydreaming x delusion in the name of acting as if.

Femininity is indifference. Self-centeredness. My way or no way. Everything else is masculinity (which, just so we are clear, is not a bad thing. Coming from a masculina).

[e-vay]

The Sonnet of Domino & Phlox - Ch1

[A/N: In game canon, we’ve never learned who Sonic’s parents are or what they were like. I decided to make my own interpretation for Sonic’s mother and father. This is the story of their brief but significant meeting.]

-----

It’s only a couple of days. 

A teal colored hedgehog took in a deep breath. The morning air was crisp in her lungs, a sure sign of the autumnal equinox. If she had any hope of making it through the next two seasons out in the wilderness, she’d need to stock up on supplies. Her thin tank top and patched slacks wouldn’t be enough to warm her fur against the icy winter breeze and scavenging for food in the desolate snow would be nearly impossible. She had to stock up now and that meant a trip to the nearest town.

Domino let out a puff of air before adjusting the backpack on her shoulders and marching through the entry gates. The young woman didn’t care much for cities. But, strapped for cash, there was no better place to look for odd jobs and errands to earn enough dough to purchase the winter gear she’d need. Her first stop would be to find the village square and look for a board with job postings, but that meant a trek through the marketplace…

Despite the early morning hour, the dirt path was bustling with locals and travelers alike. Merchants shouted praises of their wares, dueling for the attention of potential customers that filled the street and bounced from vendor to vendor. Children tugged at their parents’ hems and screamed for the shiny new toys that decorated several booths. “Ugh,” Domino thought to herself, “Markets are the worst.”

The blue teen shoved her hands in her pockets and pinned her arms to her sides to make her petite frame even smaller, better to weave through pedestrians and get through the market making as little eye contact as possible. She hardly ever had any money on her and what little she might have was always saved for the absolute necessities. Shopping only served to annoy and embarrass her. Domino could only turn down the constant barrage of salespeople with so many polite “nothankyous” before she found herself grinding her teeth. Worse than the merchants were the shoppers themselves. She could physically feel their eyes burning holes into her skin, sneering at her tattered clothes and remarking the ragged shoes bound to her feet with tape. Some would even pull their bags tighter to their bodies as if the girl were planning to snatch it away from them. That hurt the most. 

It was better for herself and everyone else if she stayed where she belonged: out in the wild. 

It’s only a couple of days. 

A scent lofted through the air that made Domino’s mouth curve into a smile. Not everything about city life was awful. In fact, there was one thing that she was always guaranteed to love, no matter which village she wound up in: the food!

She lifted her snout and took in the different aromas that danced through the air. Spices mixed with warm smoke as chefs expertly cooked their meats to a sizzling perfection. Warm, almost sour notes were sure signs of a baker pulling freshly baked bread from a hot oven. Domino began to salivate. She knew she had to get to the job board, but it wouldn’t be smart to work on an empty stomach, right? She might have just enough cash for a slice of-

“Whu-!”

She yelped in surprise as she stumbled into a wall of purple fur and quills and heard the unmistakable sound of something fragile – and likely expensive – crashing against the earth. 

“Oh Gaia!” Domino shrieked. She darted to the front of the person she had just bumped into and grabbed his shoulders. “So sorry! I wasn’t lookin’!”

The boy, a fellow hedgehog with wild, indigo fur, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, his eyes were narrowed onto a spot on the ground. His mouth gaped but the only sound to escape his lips could best be described as the high-pitched squeak of air being released from a balloon.

Domino’s eyes followed the trail of his stare that led to a film camera laying in the dirt. His hands remained open and frozen in place from where the camera had just leaped. 

“Oh boy,” Domino muttered. She crouched down to survey the damage. The shell of the device was cracked in several places. Some pieces completely snapped off and lay about like thick, plastic confetti. She gingerly picked up the camera and her shoulders sank with relief to see that the lens hadn’t fractured. “Oh, this is nothin’!”

The girl rested the camera on her lap and spun her backpack around to search for tools. Once her hand made purchase of the required items, she thrust it into the air with pride. Her arm was threaded through a roll of duct tape, wearing it much like a bracelet, while she held up a heavily used bottle of super glue. 

“I don’t think that’s going to-”

Just as soon as the male had found his voice, he was once again rendered speechless by the blue hedgehog as she seemed to perform rapid-fire surgery on the device. Her hands moved too quickly for him to understand what all she was doing, expertly switching from tape to glue and back, pinching here and ripping there. In what could only have been a matter of seconds, Domino sprang up to her feet and held out a perfectly in-tact camera. “Here ya go!”

The boy slowly took the camera from her hands and carefully inspected it. It was nearly pristine! 

“Wh-? Hu-? How?!” he stammered, turning the camera over and gasping as he noticed she had even managed to repair some of the damage he had done to it by extended use. “It’s like it’s brand new!”

Domino returned her tools to their home in her bag and slung it over her back. “I try to leave things better than I found ‘em.”

Something about that motto resonated with the male and a grin made its way across his face. His inspection finally shifted from the camera to the peculiar person in front of him and his breath caught in his throat. 

The young woman’s eyes were a striking cyan color, as vibrant as an afternoon’s sky. Her long, wild quills were the same teal hue, just a shade darker. She was waif-like for sure, but despite her small stature she had a strong presence about her that told him she could handle herself. The sweet, almost demure smile on her caramel muzzle was in direct contrast with the rough appearance of her clothes and a noticeable tear in one of her ears. This girl had clearly been through a lot. Despite that – or perhaps because of that – he found her stunning.

Domino was also rendered speechless, a rare occurrence for her. The fellow hedgehog looked to be about her age with quills as windswept as hers, though shorter and rich indigo in color. He had a larger frame– or was it the fullness of his fur that made him appear bigger? His coat was longer, scruffy and rugged, particularly in the sand-colored patches that adorned his chest and muzzle. It was so unlike her short, sleek pelt. He wore a pair of denim jeans—another oddity as male Mobians often didn’t wear clothes. And his eyes! So many different shades of green with hints of amber… like sunlight filtering through the canopy leaves onto the forest floor. 

She realized she was staring and hoped that the tufts of fur that framed her cheeks would help to mask the blush that quickly made its way up her neck. 

“Uh. Still, I’m sorry about breakin’ it in the first place,” Domino muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. 

“No, no need to apologize,” the male assured. His voice had a melodic cadence to it, bouncing around from soothing lows to confident highs. It was unusual but very pleasing to her ears. “If anything, I’m just as much to blame. I was the one standing in the middle of a busy street.”

Like a flip of a switch, Domino suddenly became aware of the dozens of people who were squeezing by and muttering curses at the two teenagers who were blocking their path. How odd, just a moment ago it felt like the two were the only people on the planet. 

“Oh yeah…” Domino said slowly, turning her head either way to confirm that they were indeed obstructing the center of the path. “We oughtta get outta the way. Can’t have that camera breaking again!” She turned back to the boy and pushed on his chest, startling him and making him walk backwards until they reached the side of the road. She swiftly weaved and navigated them through the crowd with expertise. It was a wonder she had bumped into him in the first place. The lissome girl likely would have slipped right by him without him ever realizing she was there. Hmm, he didn’t like the thought of that.

“What’s your name?” he asked, those green eyes searching hers. 

“Uh,” Domino paused for a moment. People at best ignored her; at worst went out of their way to avoid her. This wasn’t a question she was used to answering. “Domino. And you are?”

“Phlox.”

“‘Flocks’?!” She couldn’t help but blurt out. Sometimes her mouth worked faster than her brain. “Like… like a bunch of Flickies?”

The male’s eyes went wide and he snickered. “Flickies?! No, ‘Phlox’ like the flower!”

“Well hey, I dunno! Maybe your parents are really into bird watching.”

Phlox suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Domino’s ears sprang upwards. That chuckle was so silly and boyish and… mischievous, so unlike his speaking voice. She couldn’t help but beam with playful delight just from hearing it.

“By that logic,” Phlox managed once his laughing settled down, “that would mean your parents love board games?”

Oh now this would be too fun to pass up!

“Ah, so you’re familiar with my lineage!” Domino asked impishly. “I’m the heiress to a very wealthy game manufacturing company. It’s a family-owned business started by my great-great grandparents. It’s basically required that everyone in the family be named after classic games, lest you want to give up your claim to the family biz.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes,” she smirked. “You should’ve seen the look on my grandparents face when my Uncle Chess named his son-”

Her story was interrupted by an embarrassingly loud gurgle coming from her empty stomach. She froze in place, her face instantly growing beet red. Did he hear that? Of course he heard that. The whole world just heard it. Oh Gaia, why?! “Err..” 

“I… was just on my way to breakfast,” Phlox said, a lilt in his voice. “I heard some of the locals raving about this restaurant. ‘Supposed to have omelets like you wouldn’t believe. Would you… wanna join me?”

“A... restaurant…?” Domino whispered with dread. Her skin grew even hotter with anxiety. She barely had enough cash on her for some bread. A restaurant was out of the question! She had to think of an excuse but whether it was brain fog from hunger or delirium from this cute guy’s smile, she was coming up with nothing! “Um…”

Phlox sensed the girl’s dilemma and saw her subconsciously rummaging in her pockets. He pretended not to notice and looked towards his next destination. 

“I hope you won’t mind-” he leaned his shoulder towards her as if sharing a secret. “I know we live in a modern era but I was raised to always foot the bill when asking a lady on a date.”

“I-I don’t need handouts!” Domino said defensively, hoping her voice overpowered the growling of her stomach. 

“Easy there, heiress! I’d never suggest such a thing,” he waved his hands while he laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. Phlox extended an open hand. “Besides, you’ll be repaying me by telling me all about this prestigious gaming monarchy you’re a part of.” 

He gave her a wink and with that, she was done for. 

Domino took his hand and together the two teens were off to the eatery.  

—

“-and that’s why the hippos are eating marbles! Oh! That reminds me. Did you ever wonder-”

Despite her constant rambling, Domino had scarfed down her entire meal with impressive speed. Phlox’s eyes flickered to her empty plate before inconspicuously sliding his untouched side of hash browns across the table. Domino began tearing into them as well, too focused on her current story to realize the plate didn’t belong to her. 

Phlox rested his cheek in his palm, smiling as he listened to the teal young woman paint another wild tale. It was immediately clear that these stories were fabricated. Each one was more extreme and nonsensical than the last, but still, the young man found himself hanging on every word. It wasn't so much the stories that he enjoyed, but the enthusiasm with which Domino told them. The way her sky-blue eyes lit up and how her thin little arms swung about wildly as she gestured with her hands, as if her petite body couldn’t contain all of the energy that was trapped inside.

“-so I’m passing through here before I’m off for my next big business venture.”

“Oh? This is a short visit?”

“Ya,” Domino finished up her last bite of hash browns before unceremoniously letting her fork clatter against the ceramic. She was unable to remember the last time she’d ever felt this full. “I never stay in one city long.”

“Why’s that?”

“Towns are… complicated,” she averted her gaze, suddenly interested in a spot of the tablecloth that she began to pick at. “Everything’s all ‘property-lines’ and ‘who-belongs-where’. It’s all about what ya own and how much of it ya got, and what you can take from someone else.” She sank back into her chair with a sigh and looked up at the clouds. Phlox leaned in. Even if momentarily, he was getting a glimpse into the real Domino. He wanted to know more about the girl who felt the need to hide behind tall tales. “It’s not like that out in the wild. Nothing belongs to anybody. It all belongs to the planet, ya know? No judgements. No hurting each other for the sake of hurting… I only come into town when I-” 

She stopped herself short, realizing she’d revealed a little too much. 

“Wait you’re just passing through too, yeah?”

“Huh?” Phlox blinked. He could get whiplash from how abruptly she’d redirected the conversation. “Oh. Yeah.”

“How long’re you stickin’ around?”

“Hmm, not sure yet.”

Domino laced her fingers together and used them to balance her chin. “You don’t talk much,” she observed with amusement. 

Phlox chuckled. “I’m more of a listener.”

“That’s a shame. You’ve got such a nice voice, like music,” she admitted. “I’d love to hear ya talk more.”

It was possible she was just trying to divert his attention from the previous topic, but the compliment made him blush nonetheless. He rubbed the back of his neck and tittered bashfully. 

“Well, what would you like me to talk about?”

Domino pointed at the newly repaired camera that sat amongst the empty stacks of plates. “What’s this all about?”

Phlox smiled and rested a caring hand on the device. 

“This here’s… my dream. My pride and joy.” He looked up at Domino and she just about wiggled in her seat, excited to hear more. It wasn’t like him to talk much, especially about himself, but if the pretty lady asked… “I spent an entire year putting in extra hours at my steel working job, covering shifts when others called out, never taking time off, all so I could save up for this baby! When I first told my family I wanted to switch careers to become a photographer… Let’s just say they were not so enthusiastic. Especially my dad…” he chuckled ruefully. “He’s not one for… sentimentality. But I always have been.”

Those bright green eyes looked up to meet Domino’s and her heart leaped in her chest when she caught sight of the fervor behind them. 

“There’s beauty in everything, you just have to open your eyes to see it! The world is full of so many remarkable things that we take for granted. So many magnificent little moments that will slip right by if we don’t bother to notice them. I want everyone to see what I see. I want to give these wonderful, fleeting seconds the opportunity to live on forever.” Phlox found himself surprised at how boldly he was speaking. It was a nice change, something he had been hoping to improve upon himself. It somehow came naturally in this girl’s presence. “...Photography lets me do that.”

Domino swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt. 

“W-wow. I didn’t realize I was talking to an artist this whole time.”

Phlox laughed, that mischievous, boyish chuckle erupting from him again. “Don’t get too excited just yet, Minnie. I’ve still got a long way to go and a lot to learn.” 

Minnie? She’d never had a nickname before, never knew anyone long enough to have one. But this guy gave her one so casually, like they’d been friends forever. Minnie. She liked it…

“But I’ll let you in on a secret. Something the pros don’t want you to know.” He suddenly leaned across the table, making Domino’s eyes widen even more. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Sure composition and lighting and all that’s important, but really? A lot of it is being at the right place at the right time.”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms with a smirk. “And I just so happen to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. A talent, if you will.”

Domino scoffed out the breath she’d been holding. “I’m not so sure about that!” She challenged him with a playful grin. “If that were true, I wouldn’t have busted your camera in the first place!”

Phlox winked and pointed a finger at her. “Ah, but that’s direct proof my gift is the real deal. How else would I have met you?”

The lady hedgehog was once again uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, too dry! She grasped for her drinking glass and quickly took several long gulps of water. Unsure how to respond and certain her signature teal and caramel fur were now every shade of red, she thought of a question to direct attention from her. 

“So,” her voice cracked through feigned nonchalance. “What brings a budding photographer like you to this quaint little town hmm?”

Phlox snickered, pleased that he could make the pretty lady blush just as much as she’d made him. “You might not think much of this place, but I’ve heard it has plenty of little hidden treasures. For one, I’ve been told of this grotto tucked away in the surrounding forest that’s supposed to be spectacular, especially if you catch sight of it at just the right time. I’m going to head out later today and try to find it.”

Domino sat up with excitement. She loved exploring and being out amongst the greenery would likely be a much needed respite after the odd jobs she’d be doing in town. It was only a couple of days, why not make the most of it?

“I’d like to see! Can I come?”

Phlox’s smile grew wider. “Y-yeah, yes!”

“Oh! Speaking of spectacular," there she went again, her mind already on to the next thing. "Have you ever been to South Island?”

“No, but it’s on my list.”

“PHLOX!” Domino drummed her hands on the table with enthusiasm. “You’re gonna love it! Just about every possible type of landscape and flora you can imagine all on one island. It’s crazy! Green Hill was my favorite. Flowers bigger than me— bigger than you! Waterfalls taller than the sky!”

“Hold on.”

Phlox stood up from his seat to pull out a small, weathered notepad from his back pocket. He flipped to a blank page and hurriedly scribbled down notes while murmuring. “South Island… Green… Hill…” 

He marked a large star next to the text before standing once again to return the notebook to his pocket. He glanced up and caught the girl giggling at him. 

“What?” He asked, the corner of his own mouth turning upwards into a smile. 

“I’m sorry, it has to be said…” Domino used a hand to gesture towards Phlox’s legs. “… the pants.”

Phlox smirked and placed his hands on his hips. He pretended to be offended, but mirth was evident in his tone. “I don’t get what’s so funny about my jeans. After all, you’re wearing pants.” 

“Yeah but not many men wear ‘em.”

The young man counted on his fingers with each point he made. “They’re stylish. They’re practical. How else can I store my things?”

Domino pointed her thumb towards the pack on her back. 

“Nah,” Phlox hooked his thumbs on his belt loops. “Backpack’ll never look this cool.”

“Ooookay, if you say so!” Domino laughed, waving her hands in defeat.

The tolling of bells from the town church broke the two from their lighthearted argument. Domino counted the chimes and realized more time had passed than she originally thought. As much fun as she was having, she had to get back to her priorities. She had a lot of work to do and not much time to do it. 

“Well, Mr. Cool Guy,” she dusted the crumbs from her clothes as she rose up from her seat. “Thank you very much for breakfast but I’ve got some very important duties that need attendin’.”

Phlox caught her hand just before she was out of reach. His voice was soft but determined. “I’ll see you later? At the town entrance, at 4. Yes?”

Domino noticed a tangible spark as their fingers met. The feel of her hand in his and the passion in his eyes made her heart race. 

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

[CHAPTER 2]

[poppitron360]

I’m trying to branch out from my usual angst by writing a happy(ish) fic.

Summary: Jason goes back to Camp Jupiter after the war and reveals that he and Leo are dating. He struggles so deal with the backlash from that while simultaneously having to cope with being long-distance.

CW: Swearing, Octavian

Word Count: 2,423

VALGRACE FANFICTION- “Fuck ‘em”

When Jason had announced to Camp Jupiter that he was seeing someone, he wasn’t sure what had been more appalling. That the someone in question was a boy, or that he was Greek.

Octavian had, of course, been outraged on both accounts: “We let a man like this become Praetor! He is fraternising with the enemy in a very un-Roman-like fashion!”

That’s what he called it. “Un-Roman”- like for some reason Jason was any less Roman because he was bisexual.

But it wasn’t just Octavian spouting bullshit. There was a shift in the way people acted under his command- they seemed less trusting, like Jason had become some foreign invader. Even though he had stepped down as Praetor and given his powers to Frank, he still held the newly-created title of “honorary Praetor”, alongside Percy, to commemorate all the work he had done defeating Gaia. People should still listen to him, respect him. But it was different now. His boyfriend was a Greek.

He didn’t dare tell them it was the same Greek that had fired on New Rome, albeit under the influence of evil spirits.

Some of them had been supportive, especially those in the fifth cohort. They were used to being outcasts.

“Children of Vul- I mean, Hephaestus, though?” His friend, Dakota, had said, “They’re good to have around. Large, beefy, big muscles. Good fit for a son of Jupiter like you.”

Jason laughed nervously, “Uh-huh. Yeah… large… muscles… right.”

Oh my gods, Praetor Grace had a twink. That was another thing he didn’t dare tell them. He let them imagine their leader with a powerful hunk for a boyfriend- at least that way he could keep some dignity.

He felt bad being embarrassed by Leo. He was awesome. He had a badass flying dragon. He told cool jokes and made Jason laugh. Jason was proud to call him his boyfriend. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself every morning. Then he’d step outside, and be faced with the weird looks and behind-the-hand whispers, and suddenly he didn’t feel so proud. He didn’t hold it against Leo, though. He loved how the kid acted so unapologetically himself- unlike Jason, who needed everyone to like him so much.

Jason didn’t care about the stares when he was with him. The asshole comments from Octavian seemed like distant memories when he looked into those big, dark eyes, complete with the playful little twinkle and mischievous smile. But when he was without Leo, he was a nervous wreck. The only thing that kept him going were Leo’s monthly visits. That was the one thing they couldn’t take away from him. He counted the days in his head to when he was gonna see him again. When Octavian was being shitty, he’d just think “twenty more days”, “ten more days”, “five more days”, “one more day”.

He met Leo and Festus outside the New Rome border. He picked the tiny guy up in his arms and twirled him around, and then kissed him. Leo’s skin was warm to the touch, like it always was when he was nervous.

“I missed you so much,” Jason whispered, although there was no-one around to overhear.

“I missed you too, Sparky. Camp isn’t the same without you.”

“Are they treating you well there? Anyone still giving you shit for your powers?”

“I’m fine Jason, everyone’s super nice,” Leo replied, although Jason could tell it was probably exaggerated. Not a lie- just a projection. What Jason wanted to hear. He decided not to call him out on it- Leo just didn’t want Jason to worry, that’s all.

“You’ve not been spending too much time in the workshop, I hope? Actually go outside once in a while.”

“I’m outside now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You worry too much,” Leo said, standing on his tiptoes to kiss him.

But Leo had worries of his own. They talked causally for a while, before Leo interrupted him with a question that Jason had been dreading.

“Why do you always ask me to meet you outside the border?” Leo asked.

Jason had a pre-planned response for this, “I just wanna keep you separate from my work. At Camp, I’m a leader. A soldier. Praetor Grace. With you, I can be myself. I can be Jason. I want it to stay that way.”

Leo’s eyes held so many different emotions, it was hard for Jason to tell what one was most prominent- sadness, resolution, hope- Jason had spent many hours searching those eyes for the secrets that they contained, and he still had not found them all. Leo sighed.

“They… they don’t know about me, do they?”

Jason hesitated- but he couldn’t lie to Leo.

“They know I’m dating a son of Hephaestus… they don’t know it was the same son of Hephaestus that fired on New Rome,” he admitted.

“You’re embarrassed.”

“No, I’m not!” Jason said, which wasn’t entirely true.

“You are! You’re worried about being seen with me! That’s why you meet me out here- you don’t want people to know you have a dangerous freak for a boyfriend. Praetor Grace and the scrappy little street rat he took pity on,” Leo looked down and kicked the dirt.

“I think you’re a pretty cute street rat,” Jason said, ruffling Leo’s messy, greasy hair. Then his smile turned serious, “Leo, I don’t want you to think that I think of you that way. I’m not embarrassed by you, it’s just…” he looked at the sky and sighed, “There’s a lot of expectations that I have to live up to. And when I’m with you I get to say “fuck ‘em”, but when I’m there…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Leo said. He looked up at Jason with those big, busy eyes- drawing ordinance survey maps of Jason’s face in his mind, “I really do, Jason. I understand feeling like you need to be someone else to get people to like you. I get it.”

Jason smiled and hugged him.

“We can stay like this. You don’t have to let me inside the border. We can just say “fuck ‘em” out here,” Leo mumbled, his voice muffled in the fabric of Jason’s hoodie.

“One day,” Jason assured him, “One day I wanna say “fuck ‘em” to their faces. There’s a really nice café in New Rome I wanna take you to.“

“But we don’t have to say “fuck ‘em” today.”

“No.”

His time with Leo came and went. Jason went back to his duties, to the stares and the whispers.

He sat on the lunch table with the rest of the fifth cohort, chatting idly about the local gossip.

“Heard we got some exchange students from Camp Half-Blood,” one of them remarked, “Because we’re doing that now, apparently.”

“They have all these freaky little behaviours- it’s not sitting right with the other cohorts.”

“Yeah, Greeks are weird,” Jason remarked, leaning back in his chair, “And I should know- I’m in love with one.”

The whole table went quiet. Jason seemed to realise what he’d just said.

“Oh,” was all he could manage in response.

Dakota broke the silence, “Man, I thought you were just his sugar daddy, I didn’t know you guys were actually in love!”

“I-I didn’t know either, ‘til I just said it,” Jason stuttered, still in shock, “But… yeah. Yeah, I love him.”

“So when do we get to meet him?” One of the other members of the fifth asked.

“Well,” Jason leaned forward, contemplating, “He comes to visit me every month. He’s coming again in thirteen days. I could…”

He looked around the dining hall. He took in the sneers as people caught his eye. The whispers and snickers and pointing. He realised that that would never change. As long as he was open about who he was, there would always be backlash. The only thing he could do was to not let it get to him. To say “fuck ‘em”. And as terrifying a prospect as that was, Jason was ready. He was ready to rise above the snide remarks and disrespect and yell “I’m in love with Leo Valdez!”

Because he was. He loved that tiny imp of a kid. He loved his loud mouth and weird quirks. He loved how Leo would hold his hand and tap out little morse code messages that Jason didn’t understand, but would speculate for days what they meant. He could look it up, or ask Annabeth, but he loved to fantasise.

Leo was leaning against Festus in their usual spot outside the border. When Jason saw him, he tackled him with such force that Leo’s hair caught fire in surprise. Luckily, Jason pulled away before it could burn him.

“You’re in a good mood,” Leo observed, patting out the flames on his head.

“Yeah, well… I’ve decided,” Jason told him, “I’m ready. I wanna take you inside the border.”

Leo stopped fussing with his hair and looked up at Jason, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Jason assured him, holding out his hand, “Come on!”

Leo grinned and took Jason’s hand. A little spark of electricity ran along Jason’s spine. He took off for the city, pulling Leo behind him. Leo was giggling in that cute way he did when he got exited and thought no-one could hear him. They ran like the wind- literally. As Jason yanked him along, he summoned the winds to push them faster, lifting them up into the air slightly. They were inside New Rome now, Jason dragging him through winding streets and bustling crowds. Jason felt truly free, running along with Leo. He was overjoyed. For once, he didn’t care about expectations or who he should be. They were just two kids having fun.

They stopped outside a sidewalk café with Romanesque architecture, like the rest of the city. There was one of those classic red-and-white-striped awnings over the front, and clusters of tables and chairs littered the pavement outside.

“Lunch?” Jason asked, turning to Leo, “They do paninis and toasted sandwiches.”

“I would kill for a panini right now.”

“What about drinks?”

“Diet coke?”

“Gods, no. You’re not having any more caffeine, Mr Hyper. I’ll get you a lime soda,” the conversation was dull and mundane, but Jason found it comforting. They had spent so much of their time together with the weight of the world resting on their shoulders. Now that that was finally over (and Jason rapped on the wooden café table at the thought, praying he wouldn’t jinx it), they could finally settle into a monotonous rhythm, like and old married couple.

Wow. That image took him by surprise- him and Leo growing old together- but it was a good sort of surprise. Jason didn’t push the thought away, instead, he let it wash over him, clinging to the notion that they had hope. A future in the making.

Lunch was going awesome- until Octavian showed up.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Praetor Grace- sorry, former Praetor Grace.”

“Honorary Praetor,” Jason corrected, not looking up from the menu he was reading, “Still ranked above you, Octavian, so a position you should treat with respect.”

Jason didn’t bother looking up to see Octavian’s reaction. He continued to ignore the kid, until he saw him turn to face Leo.

“Hey! Isn’t that the Greek Scum who destroyed half the city?!” He yelled, “Guards! Guards!”

“Octavian, no,” Jason commanded, looking him directly in the eyes, “I saw to it that Leo was pardoned. That incident was not through his actions.”

“It very much looked like it was through his actions, from where I was standing!” Octavian replied, angrily.

Jason stood up. He grabbed Leo’s hand, partially for reassurance, partially as a way of telling Octavian to suck on a cavalry sword- a way of saying “Fuck ‘em”.

“Oh… oh my gods! That is your little pet?!” He pointed at Leo like he was a disgusting patch of mould.

“Uh-huh. And what’re you gonna do about it, Octavian? Run and tell? I am fucking fine with everyone knowing. In fact-“ Jason leapt up onto the café table, still holding onto Leo’s hand, “Listen up, motherfuckers!”

“Jason, what’re you-“

Jason squeezed Leo’s hand to reassure him and Leo stopped protesting, but he still looked worried.

“I’m in love with Leo Valdez!” Jason yelled, “He’s tiny and Greek and he’s awesome. You motherfuckers might look down on him. You might think he’s dangerous, or that he’s a freak. But I see how awesome he is. And sweet. And badass. And cute. And funny. And none of you-“ he pointed a finger at the crowd of passers-by, who were giving him annoyed and disgruntled looks, “Get to say a fucking WORD against him!” He turned towards Octavian, looking down at him and jabbing a finger in his face, “Especially a slimy little piece of shit like you, Octavian.” Jason jumped down from the table, reclined in his seat, picked up the menu, and studied it with his glasses at the end of his nose much like how an old man would study a newspaper.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna enjoy lunch with my boyfriend.”

Octavian scoffed, and left.

“Jason…” Leo was staring at him with those eyes of many feelings. Jason counted wonder, shock, horror, pride, lust, reverence and a seventh emotion he couldn’t quite describe.

“I’m sorry if that was too… loud, Leo. I don’t wanna make you feel-“

“Y-You’re in love with me?”

“…Yeah. Yes. I am,” Jason searched for what emotion was the brightest in those eyes, but there were too many and it was too confusing. He could never pick just one, “Is it too soon? Should I have waited? Should I have asked you first before yelling it in the street-“

“No! No, it’s fine. It’s… amazing, actually. And I love you too, Jason, I really do.”

Jason squeezed Leo’s hand again. Now that Leo had said it, Jason saw the love surface above the mess of other feelings in those eyes. He saw it bud and bloom like blossoms in springtime across Leo’s fiery irises. He wanted to get lost in those meadows of brown and gold, and when Leo closed those eyes to lean in to kiss him, Jason was slightly crestfallen at the fact that he couldn’t keep staring at them. Soon, though, Leo’s lips were against his, and his disappointment melted away. He had plenty of time to stare into those eyes later. They had their whole future ahead of them, and nobody was gonna stand in their way.

[hollowknightinsanity]

Ghost ref sheet jumpscare (repost bc tumblr was being mean)

Hopefully reposting This Thang with the ref tag will actually make it appear in said ref tag huegh

originally posted 24th June 2024

Yey ghost!!!!!! The Spooky!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m never drawing it again /j

Info under the cut 💥

Full name: Mystery Evergold

Aliases: Ghost, The Knight, Shade Lord

Species: Wyrm / Rootkin hybrid (Wyrmroot)

Planet of Origination: Earth

Age: 81

Height: Can be anywhere from 9’3” to 400’ tall; usually sticks at around 20’

Gender: Biologically intersex; identifies as genderless

Pronouns: It/Its/Itself

Sexuality: Aromantic, asexual

S/O: None

Family: Chysanthus Heather Eburne (biological father), Viol Glory Leaflet (biological mother), Eternity ‘Ette’ Evergold (adoptive mother), Holly Bloom Eburne-Leaflet (twin sibling), Promise Evergold (sister), Deliverance Evergold (sister), Hornet Arac Eburne (half-sister), Albus Iris Eburne-Leaflet (brother), Ivory Zinnia Eburne-Leaflet (sister), Sombre Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), Seraphim Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), Gaia Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), ~5 million other siblings (genuinely I WISH I was joking)

Biological child of Hallownest’s Royals, otherwise known as The Pale King and The White Lady. Was abandoned and left to rot in the Abyss where it was born, though it escaped with a few of its siblings and left the Kingdom altogether.

Was adopted by Eternity (Ette for short) with two of its siblings, who she named Promise and Deliverance, giving it the name Mystery. Lived as a nomad with her and its sisters until Holly’s shell broke, at which point it left to return to Hallownest and take care of The Radiance.

With the assistance of The Godseeker, it ascended to Godhood and broke its own shell, becoming what is now the Monarch of Hallownest, and (essentially) a God of Darkness.

Very quiet and generally inexpressive. It rarely ever engages in conversation for longer than a minute, and even then it doesn’t really say much. For the most part, it’s a shut-in down in the Abyss, only ever coming up to Dirtmouth to visit its surface-dweller siblings. Despite its overall intimidating appearance and stand-offish attitude, it’s relatively kind (so long as it likes you, which isn’t the most common thing in the world).

Was born in the depths of Hallownest, but has lived most of its life outside the Kingdom, travelling with its nomadic sisters and adoptive mother. However, after sensing its twin’s call for help from its home kingdom, it left its family and returned to free Hallownest of The Radiance’s infection. It’s lived there ever since it killed Her, and prefers to stay at the bottom of the Abyss where it was born, its trips outside only being to hunt for its small cousin (which it had been placed in charge of caring for), and the far rarer visits to the surface being to check on its siblings (it’s somewhat concerned over Holly’s health, given they’ve recently had two more children).

It’s grown to enjoy hunting with its fangs and claws, but will summon Nails made of Void and use Spells when it feels like it.

Hex codes

#000000 — Void tendrils / Blood / Spells

#121212 — Skin / Fur / Wings (back)

#1B1B1B — Inner ears

#FFFFFF — Eyes / King’s Brand / Wing patterns

(L + only 4 colours)

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 19

Loop #500

Tango: Oh, guessing we get a beach episode?

Grian: It is loop 500 now, I keep score.

Pearl: He does...for some reason. Why do you?

Grian: It just helps ok?

Scott: Pearl you can't just ask that.

Pearl: Oh I don't want to hear that from you mate.

Jimmy: Scott? Are you coming into the water?

Scott: Yeah! Putting on my sunscreen.

Jimmy: Oh...

Scott: Do you think I mantain my beauty without taking care of my skin?

Jimmy: You are always beautiful though.

Scott: I- uh ah? I mean, of course I am Jimmy.

Jimmy: ... Is Tango putting sunscreen on too?

Tango: I'm not coming.

Jimmy: What, why?

Tango: ... I need to take care of Anne. She can't swim.

Anne: ...

Scott: He's afraid of the ocean.

Tango: Am not!

Scott: Are too.

Anne: ... (he is)

Tango: I'm not scared! I just- water and fire don't mix, ok?

Scott: And I'm done, Jimmy?

Jimmy: Oh yeah... we'll see you guy later!

Pearl: You guys, I found a volley ball! Want to play some beach volley?

Mumbo: Uh... Sure.

Scar: I'm in!

Grian: I don't see why not.

Pearl: Great, Scar is with Mumbo and Grian is with me.

Scott: Oh this is much better.

Jimmy: Yeah. It's great!

Scott: We should probably see the others though.

Jimmy: Oh come on! A little bit longer! The water is so nice!

Scott: Eh. Sure, but we'll get to the others in a while.

Scott: Pearl, what's wrong.

Pearl: Grian is horrible at beach volley.

Scott: How? He's a literal god.

Pearl: Scar was shirtless. Apparently that's enough.

Scott: Oh, yeah, you should have expected that Pearl.

Pearl: I made an gigantic mistake.

Jimmy: Oh we should have a sand castle making competition!

Grian: Who would even be the judges?

Scott: I could.

Pearl: ... What, why?

Scott: I like judging people.

Pearl: Fair enough.

Mumbo: I could be a judge too?

Pearl: ... Alright.

Mumbo: Scar... Star Wars really?

Scar: How dare you!? The Millennium Sand-con is a masterpiece!

Scot: Huh uh. I give it a 8.

Mumbo: ... 9

Scar: I'll take it.

Scott: ... Tango, Jimmy?

Jimmy: I started making a sand castle but it fell apart!

Tango: So I told him to join up with me and Anne!

Jimmy: What do you think?

Scott: ... 9.

Mumbo: It looks good, I think It's a 7.

Mumbo: So, Pearl, how did you do this?

Pearl: I don't know what you mean?

Scott: This is... wow. Get it I guess.

Pearl: Oh thanks, mate.

Mumbo: But how???

Pearl: I don't know what to tell you, hard work.

Scott: You just contradicted-

Pearl: So, how much.

Scott: I'm going to say 9.

Mumbo: 10...definitely.

They ended up setting up a fireplace and roasting marshmallows on top as the sun set. All in all it was a pretty good loop.

Loop #508

Scar woke up... feeling really off. He couldn't understand why though, this looked like a pretty regular loop...maybe a bit basic but still pretty regular. He got up to get breakfast and the feeling refused to go. He tried watching tv but even then there was something...off.

Scar: Grian?

Grian: Scar, choose. Take the red pill or the blue pill.

Scar: Wait are we in the matrix!?!

Grian: It took you way too long to realize that.

Loop #511

Scott: A god loop? I guess that means all of us loopers are gods now. Well... Tango, you and Jimmy really. Didn't get Aeoulus again but getting to be Nyx is fun too.

Mumbo: I-it's weird... uh. I don't really know why I got Ares...?

Scott: You? Ares? That's hilarious- Wait... Grian!?

Grian: Hello...

Scott: Are you... the sky?

Grian: Looks like I got Uranus and Scar got Gaia.

Scar: Being a planet is fun! Did you know I can create mountains now?

Scott: ... That is overpowered.

Grian: You are night itself-

Scar: I made a continent with my face!

Scott: What did I just say?

Tango: Look people! I'm kidnapping the god of spring!

Jimmy: Oh nooo I'm being kidnapped! What will I do?

Tango: Nothing you are mine mow and will rulificate the dead together or something.

Jimmy: I'm so scared and or sad about this, I hope someone will tell Pearl!

Pearl: Nooo! Give me back my ...son I guess.

Tango: Nop.

Pearl: Fair enough mate, guess I got to bring eternal winter now.

Jimmy: I'm back but oh no! Tango made me eat pomegranate seeds. I'll have to switch between two places. Oh noooo.

Grian: Ok, what was that?

Scott: You didn't even try to look realistic.

Tango: Listen, I'm not an actor dude.

Pearl: And I don't really care about killing a lot of people with a famine.

Grian: ...

Scar: What was that about Jimmy eating Tango's seeds-

Scott: Don't phrase it that way.

Grian: SCAR NO!

Loop #514

Grian: Let's never talk of this loop again.

Scar: Please.

Scott: Agreed.

Prev Next First

[ilminnestrone]

I'm asking you lewd shit: Genesis' specialty?

If you were to ask Genesis himself, he would wink mischievously and say that he was never breastfed as a baby, and spout some abstruse Freudian theory about it. Or he would pucker up, offering a playful demonstration. But there would be some truth in it.

The man and his oral fixation are well known, even in the most innocent of contexts: licking his index finger to turn pages, nibbling on any pencil within reach, sucking his lower lip when a particularly stupid statement irritates him. A fondness for any food that can be eaten with your hands, from a simple fruit to a juicy burger with chips (and licking the grease off his fingers is an integral part of the meal): not that he doesn't know how to behave, on the contrary, his mother taught him a strict etiquette from an early age. But even as a child, the small exceptions to the rule were an incomparable pleasure: a petit four. An olive. An oyster. A handful of blueberries. They made him feel rebellious and electrified.

Of course, he would deny sucking his thumb well into his teens and sometimes finding it in his mouth as an adult when deep in thought. Or the fact he wears gloves in public and spends shameful amounts of money on manicures to avoid torturing his cuticles with his teeth. What he will not deny is what those plump lips can do behind closed doors.

For starters, he’s the best kisser on Gaia and he knows it. An absolute tease who won’t give in even when you’re practically breathing into his mouth, lips already brushing against lips and eyes heavy-lidded. But once it's started, it's not easy to stop. He would make out for hours and it’s not even inherently sexual for him, it's a sensory stimulation to which he easily becomes addicted. He would kiss out of affection or boredom, to get attention, to win a spar, in the heat of the moment after a victory: he probably pecked half of his comrades out of joy or relief (and no one ever filed a complaint).

When his kisses have other aims, his intentions are more than clear. The fact is, those lips are so sensitive. He whines into kisses because of how good it feels.

But that is not the signal. The signal is when his mouth begins to wander elsewhere, from chin to throat to ears. When he brings the lucky person's fingers to his lips and begins to kiss and suck them one by one. When his teeth begin to sink into the folds of their clothes. His tongue becomes a sense organ like a snake, tasting his lover's scent as he slowly makes his way towards the most coveted prize.

It is there that his full potential is unleashed. He doesn't care what he finds in your pants. He devours it. Consumes it. He explores every crevice with slow kisses just to find out what's the perfect combination to make you go insane before he gets to the real action. The room fills with the most obscene, wet, smacking sounds, and he would moan against his lover's skin as he was  the one getting eaten. He can take you to the edge in minutes, just a single lick away from release and stop just to see you whine in frustration. Or keep on going, relentlessly, even after after the pleasure has subsided into overstimulation, pinning legs or wrists in place as they shake uncontrollably, chuckling even with his mouth full as you start crying that it’s too much, that you just can't come again, to just give you a minute.

He won’t. He’s still hungry. Even with his face completely wet and his lips swollen, if he’s still breathing he can go another round. People always tell him he talks too much, so he’ll shut up, for once, and do what he does best, for as long as he pleases. Making a grown man, or a resolute woman, or a cocky non-binary person sob with his mouth alone makes him feel like the most powerful human being on the Planet, their ultimate Master.

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🌏 GAEA: PRIMORDIAL OF EARTH 👩‍🌾

Author’s note: *put head into hands* Alright, so I may or may not have went off from the usual formula (Do I even have a formula for writing these at this point?) and I think I may have made the primordial demigods here more cryptid cause they’re the literal by-product of primordial beings that are also half-mortal? I won’t be including the usual blurbs at the ending cause all of them are probably pushing the word limit Tumblr has but worry not, I made up for it by putting more storylines into the whole thing. PRIMORDIAL DEMIGODS MASTERLIST: [LINK]

You’re formed right as the war with the giants and Gaia has begun and afterwards. You’re not sure when you started to form but you could feel the clay that humanity was formed from, and the combination of all the blood and bones spilled by mankind and nature, and had been buried down within the earth. While you don’t appear monstrous or with any obvious monstrous parts like the King of Athens Erechtheus, you could feel the monstrous potential flowing through your blood. However, your skin and flesh feel too foreign to you for your own liking.

You came out of the ground, peering right up at Ouranus’ domain and felt anger and annoyance as that was the first thing you saw and not your mother’s domain.

As you can imagine being formed from blood spilled onto the earth, the bones of individuals buried both by violent and non-violent means, you have a preposition of anger and violence while also being very giving and nurturing. Just like Mother Nature. Fitting as you’re Gaia’s child.

You struggled to get used to having a physical form and the bones within your body. You almost fell over the edge once but you felt something grab you as you were helped upright, before taught how to walk. That was when you met the child of Tartarus, born and raised in Tartarus itself, and further nurtured by Gaea when she opened the Doors of Death.

With your broiling anger, you expressed a desire to take revenge for your mother against the gods and their heroes. The child of Tartarus did not explicitly cheer at your words, but agreed to follow you as they didn’t see a reason to deny you either. Together, you searched for the other primordial demigods as the child of Tartarus revealed you two weren’t the only ones.

As you can imagine, being a child of Gaea means you have the ability of Mother Nature; from the plants, water, rock, even calling forces of acts of Nature. However, due to how broad your power is, you have a hard time controlling it because as much as you can bring them forth, you can’t really control nature itself.

All aspects of the Earth seem to gravitate to you, listening to your whims and demands. Even the sea will part for you if desired as Pontus, the personification of the Sea, loves Gaea and follows her will. Animals will fall under this and no matter how dangerous the animal, the animal will follow you to your command. 

Careful how you use your power though. Your abilities are too much for your mortal body to handle, even if you’re a child of Gaea. Don’t try to take control too much of other’s domains when you face the god’s heroes. While you also can do the same as them, those realms are their’s and their godly parents. There’s only so much you can do but there’s much you can do as well.

As time goes on, your form can change like the clay it was once was. Gaea also being known being the mother of monsters and with evidence of her children/offspring having inhuman and monstrous, you also have the ability to have such traits; from growing scales on your skin to act as armour, or sprouting wings from your back to fly, you can switch as you will. Be wary though, if you stick with those forms too long, the monstrous aspects will take over and you may never become mortal in both body and mind.

Your key feature is your form. You look like a clay or stone sculpted and chiseled into a form of a human statue, perfect, flawless, but seemingly unreal. You can feel your mother’s blood coursing in your body, both nurturing and destruction. You can feel your delicate form barely holding the destruction underneath you and if you let it, you’ll find yourself turning into a monster, mindless, destructive, and unforgiving. Both features of Mother Earth.

[tohokuu]

elysium rising - gojo satoru

REBLOG MY WORK. 

warnings : smut, fluff, angst, one sided friends to enemies to lovers, greek au, adultery/cheating, sukuna is an asshole, mentions of mass terror, blood and death.

underworld scenery inspired by lore olympus

a/n : reposting this with gojo. it’ll also be broken into parts so fill out the taglist form here ! 

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4.

“she who walks the floors of hell finds the key to the gates of her own heaven, buried there like a seed.” 

-

it was your misunderstanding that the charming king of the underworld would ever leave you alone. it was fate that day that lead him to you; beautiful beneath the glow of helios, picking flowers from demeter’s vast garden. with him, he had brought an odd looking dog. “cereberus.” he told you. “his name is cereberus.”

to say the dog was terrifying was an understatement. he was well over four feet, three heads protruding from it’s shoulders. cerberus was white and covered in black spots, a dalmation variant. he resembled the king in a way; tall and intimidating. however, the king behaved nothing like the tales your mother had told you as a child. demeter told you about the way he ruled the underworld with an iron fist. he was ruthless and greedy, and certainly never cared about anyone else’s feelings.

perhaps that was true. true for everyone else except you. that day, he had approached you with utmost kindness. his smile was captivating and his eyes shone so much, that your mothers garden reflected in his eyes. “you must be y/n.” he said. his voice dripped like sweet honey on a hot summer day. you nodded, taking in his beauty. you fumbled over your words, not knowing how to respond to someone as grand as him.

he laughed and dear gaia, it was so beautiful. his laugh flowed with the winds, and you swore your mothers garden that you wanted to hear it forever. “my name is gojo satoru, king of the underworld. i’m sure you’re familiar with my two brothers, choso and sukuna.”

you nodded, obviously familiar with the grand sukuna, god of the gods. you knew choso too well, all your time was spent with either your mothers garden nymphs or his water nymphs. all three brothers ruled over the three realms together.

sukuna was always wrapped up in another woman’s arms other than his wife, hera. choso was always off to rescue stranded clownfish halfway across the sea, but there was never any news of gojo, or at least never any good news of him.

“the god of the dead” they said. the older nymphs told you stories of him, how he took advantage of everyone around him, how he separated from his brothers due to an argument several hundred years ago. they told you the stories of how he attacked mortal villages, bathing in the blood that painted the skies. the stories of the underworld were equally terrifying. various dark hounds haunting the streets, terrorizing the souls that resided there.

“i’ve met your brothers, yes.” you responded, not wanting to seem too wrapped up in your daze.

the king seemed nothing like the way they had told you. other than his terrifying hell hound, he seemed rather harmless, but that could have been how he deceived all his victims. after a slight feeling of discomfort overcame you, you tried to come up with the best excuse to leave.

“i have to go. i’m sure my mother is wondering where i am.” he nodded, stepping aside to let you through and you were positive he was staring at you from behind with the way your skin crawled.

how had the atmosphere changed so fast ?

-

it was several hundred years later that you had seen him again, an established young goddess overlooking the garden you had grown up in. everything was quite fine that day until one of your younger sisters strolled into the large home you and your sisters lived in.

“mother ! the king is calling for you. it’s an emergency. yuuji said you must make haste!” and without much word to you, demeter strolled out. you knew your duties, so it isn’t like you needed a run down of it from her anyway.

but you wish you had at least kissed her goodbye when the ground beneath you split. the earth swallowed you whole while your sisters frantically ran to your siide, but it was to no avail.

your mother was not gone for more than ten minutes. the world seemed like it had split open and you knew this was no ordinary storm. the lightning resembled the shapes and patterns on king sukuna’s body too much. 

this was his doing. 

the air had been so clear before, why was it pouring now ? had sukuna no mercy ? was this a ploy to snatch you away from the comfort and warmth of your home ? all the thoughts of what could have been happening rushed to your head. why ? how ? you could see the butterflies from before disintegrate to dust, your sisters screams and tears filled the wind.

you tried to snatch vines to hold yourself to the green realm, but it wasn’t working. each piece of shrubbery that you touched felt hot. 

the garden before you burned and the streams of water that used to be clear were now muddled with grime. you fell, and fell and continued to fall. you saw the ground open up. dirt, rocks, and lava poured past you. you gasped in shock as the rubble hit you. long hair blowing in the air blurred your vision, you couldn’t see at all. the grey sky became smaller and smaller until it was a diamond above you.

the wind rushed passed your head and your ears went deaf. what could you do but accept your fate? there was no one to save you from the place you knew you’d end up in. 

a sliver of you knew he’d never give you up. he wasn’t kind and once something fell in his domain, he didn’t let it go very easily. 

REBLOG MY WORK.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

taglist form.

[phoenixcatch7]

Various headcanons about sephiroth that come from someone who does not know enough about ff7 to have any sort of credible opinion:

He got artificially aged a couple years as a kid. This lines up with hojos astoundingly selfish, cruel, results oriented modus operandi. It gets results faster and means he doesn't have to deal with an infant/toddler for the usual years. It's said in some ff7 encyclopedia that he was on the front lines before he was ten, but his mind and body in ever crisis do not reflect that. And I SINCERELY doubt even propaganda fed soldiers would accept a nine year old in a war zone. That and he's the youngest of the 1st trinity, with them being very young adults, but looks fully matured (if with the face of someone who's never had a single spot ever lol).

His hair isn't normal. There's no way that's just normal keratin it simply isn't. I don't know what it is but it's as weird as the rest of him. Maybe it's like polar bear fur and suuuuper thick but hollow like bird feathers. Did you know their skin is pure black?? Do you think his hair reflects rainbows in the right light like glass tubes???

Speaking of his hair he probably started growing it out the second he stepped on the battlefield and away from hojo. Probably a buzz cut when he was a kid. I imagine it to be a combination of a symbol of independence and self care (as it is to me), taking control of his own appearance, and picking up a bit of the samurai/noble warrior culture alongside his katana during the war with wutai, which (in real life eastern cultures, notably traditional Japan and China, but do NOT quote me) associated long hair with nobility and high ranking samurai, and short/shorn hair with slavery and criminals. (Also, lions manes shorten or even fall out when they lose (gain injuries in) fights, and that's very funny to imagine sephiroth dealing with.) His bangs? They're the only part of his appearance that actually needs regular upkeep, so why does he have them? Simple. They're the same bangs as the picture of his mum lucrecia he got as a kid. Their hair spikes up there the same way ToT.

I lied there's another part of his appearance that needs upkeep. Man is wearing eyeliner and mascara. I get it's a character design choice to bring attention to his eyes but that is definitely eyeliner and the rest of his hair is white as snow, so mascara as well. The whole of gaia (ff7) is pretty 90s metal scifi dystopia and the general fashion (cohesive character designs) feature plenty of belts and earrings (but only for the men??) so it's unlikely to be any sort of big deal Mr macho war mascot is wearing subtle eye makeup.

But I do get the feeling he doesn't have earrings because he heals too fast. Like even cloud has a stud. I like to imagine the three of them went and got them all at the same time but only sephiroths didn't stick.

Those weird metal cuff looking bracelets all soldiers have are used to brace your sword with. Sephiroth is the only one I've seen use them through, so they're obviously very reinforced XD! But he can probably backhand all sorts with them. Wish they got more usage. Imagine charging sephiroth with a claymore or something (side eyes cloud) and he just slaps it away and his stupid leather glove doesn't even have a scratch.

He got taught reading and writing pretty late. You know the way he reads with his finger keeping track of where he is like a little kid? That's definitely an old habit. When you raise a super strong, super intelligent kid in the labs you're gonna want to restrict the information he can get, and I sincerely doubt hojo was going to be invested in getting his baby alien child soldier a well read education. Gast probably taught him some if he was old enough to understand. He might have originally been taught Ancient text before that fell through. Might even be mostly self taught.

You just know he's got a dog eared dictionary somewhere in his apartment.

Hojo has got a winter soldier style shutdown code in him as a failsafe. I sincerely doubt sephiroth would know, but he might suspect something. In canon sephiroth went off the rails exactly the way hojo wanted, so it was never used, but that man's psychopathy and tendency for mind manipulation combined with his thoroughness and self serving god complex (and general sadism) makes for a perfect breeding ground for that sort of brainwashing when dealing with a subject capable of ripping his blackened heart from his chest in a microsecond. The first word is jenova, because why would sephiroth suspect a surge of adrenaline at the sound of his 'mother's' name? Also I think it'd be super scary and ripe for fics.

Sephiroth doesn't experience gender the same way as humans. Not a chance. He'd totally use neo pronouns. Star gender. He achieved his safer form and had the biggest wave of gender euphoria ever (outside of that black wing arm which reads to me as a sign of corruption from.. *waves in shinras direction*). If a sane sephiroth saw it he'd be so jealous. (In contrast angel and genesis don't.)

He's got cptsd from hojo and labs/doctors in general. But he wouldn't know until he got therapy and exited survival mode lol.

I get the feeling he tried really hard to have morals and kindness even if it didn't come naturally until the library. It probably didn't come naturally but listen he was trying his best and succeeding!! But then his last thread snapped and he was like 'fine. If I'm a monster I'll be the worst monster they've ever seen' and went on to do exactly that.

He thinks he's rebelling and shedding his chains exacting vengeance etc etc but hojo handed him directly to jenova. Like he went from one slave master to the other he doesn't even know what his chains actually look like. Hojo was jenova yes man he was so happy to do anything for her out of scientific curiosity and sadistic glee. He was happy to watch the world burn if it meant he had a hand in it.

Sephiroth is actually a pretty good blend of his parents. Got all his looks from his mother though XD. And his temper. But his laser focused cruelty is all hojo.

Him and aerith probably knew each other in the labs at least peripherally. I like the idea they knew each other as kids.

He can't taste sour well at all, can taste water like cats and dogs, and craves fish. These have zero basis in canon and are mostly from a really good fic (ROADTRIP! by copper_nights on ao3, who does my absolute FAVOURITE characterisations of sephiroth and the gang) but I like the idea of him craving fish because of the whole 'part planet eating alien' thing and the fact life first developed in the oceans. So seafood is probably a pretty big part of jenova diet XD. But hojo probably has him on a more red meat based diet for ~protein~. Get this man some sushi!

The way he fights is very offensive unless he's sparring (obviously) but the way he takes damage is by being absolutely fine until he abruptly keels over. Like cats. This worries everyone around him and is entirely hojos fault. It's partly ff7 having limited gore like most media and partly the fight in advent children where he acts untouched, gets off a one liner to cloud and then IMMEDIATELY dies of his injuries. Kadaj survives about another twenty seconds. It's very classy big bad video game boss but it's also hilarious how much he refuses to ragdoll at any cost. He may be insane and clawing his way back to the earth's surface by kidnapping children but man has his dignity!! (Literally the only time he goes where he's sent is in rebirth when he grapples cloud for?? Absolutely zero reason?? And lets himself be pushed off and even then it's because he's playing mind games. Remake sephiroth is wild.)

He was also degrading before he died. As the youngest and most stable he lasted longest, but just like genesis (and Angel) he went downhill real fast even before he got thrown into the reactor. The degradation seems to start mentally before bigger symptoms appear, with paranoia, irritability, tunnel vision. I don't doubt chronic pain, which would exacerbate everything.

He LOVES space. It's almost hypnotic to him. He can navigate by stars amazingly well.

And I hit the character limit XD.

To round off briefly, I also feel he would be disappointed or betrayed upon finding out about/meeting lucrecia, for not being able to get him out of the labs (like elmyra did for aerith) because he probably struggled a lot with realistic power levels and his idolisation/fantasies of his mother, but I don't like that and also they both deserve a proper reunion so I usually ignore that lol.

And Vincent would have been his godfather, which is another reason hojo shot him - he could have lost legal guardianship over sephiroth, and thus, total control. A top ranking turk would have been the only person capable of successfully hiding such a child. Maybe they had the paperwork all ready.

They might be just headcanons, but I really like them XD! I don't usually make these, I prefer fleshing out canon with sturdier stuff or straight up making aus, but sephiroth sends me feral so lol.

[prismaticpichu]

Hi, so umm can you make angst of Zack Seph please? 🥺♥️❤️🫂

Oooooh, angst?? >:3cc Coming right up! 💕🔪

Fsr my mind always reverts to hospital angst so dhdhdhdhdhdhhd

~

We don’t know if he’ll live.

All throughout his life, Zack had been told that words couldn’t hurt him. He had been told time and time again that someone’s tongue clicking against their teeth couldn’t bring him any harm. He had been told since the day he took his first breaths on this planet that, no matter how much force they may be delivered with, words would always be just that—words. They were nothing but meaningless pockets of air, all but weightless ripples of sound. They couldn’t make him bleed; they couldn’t cause him pain; they couldn’t stab into his skin like a knife laced with poison.

So how did those words tear every muscle in his body apart?

Shivering, Zack’s breath constricted in his throat as he studied the condition of his cherished friend, shrouded in a deep and numbing silence broken only by the horrendous beeps that blithely chirped from the monitor. All was but a blinding terrain of pink-soaked white; the bony color covered more of Seph’s skin than did his actual flesh, from the pale blanket mummifying his shredded body to the layers of gauze wrapped around his stagnant chest and ragdoll arms. Chances are that no one would even recognize the man had it not been for the iconic silver hair gushing down his sides, several stands still stained from being drenched in viscous crimson, the cavernous slash stitched down his breastbone having provided the…

Zack choked on his breath, unable to bear the gruesome imagery all of over again.

He stopped himself by reaching out instead.

“Hey, bud…” The SOLDIER extended his arm, voice hardly above a sopping whisper as he aimed to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Can you hear me in there…?”

Nothing; silence, breath, beeping.

Zack swallowed.

“I’m… I’m right here, bud. You’re safe. You’re safe now…”

Breath, silence, beeping.

Zack’s hand finally reached his shoulder, fingers trembling as they grazed the ailing skin.

“I’m… I’m sorry, bud.” The apology was bleeding out before Zack could even stop it, blue eyes beginning to haze, another choke rattling his lips. “It should be me in there. Me. I… I shoulda been so much stronger. I shoulda been able to handle that stupid thing. I shoulda been able to hold onto my sword, and… Shit…” Zack rubbed his eyes as a sniffle splintered his thoughts, his chest on the verge of buckling under the guilty weight, looking back at his blooded friend with a haze-hindered gaze. “You shouldn’t have had to save me. You shouldn’t have. I… No… You’re always saving my skin out there. You’re always taking care of me. Why on fucking Gaia can I never do the same for you…?”

Zack clutched his shoulder tighter, his head dipping under its unbearable pressure.

The monitor continued to beep.

“Gaia… please. Just… just hang in there, bud…” Zack slowly lifted his gaze again. “You… you gotta. Okay? I… I need you. I need my buddy. I don’t wanna lose him…” There was another choke, his voice quivering with another broken shiver. “Gaia… please, Seph. Please…”

When the tears finally came, they came in a burning river, and Zack didn’t try to fight a single one of them as he stood in the burning silence of ShinRa’s medical wing. He did nothing but let the rain stream down his cheeks; stinging, acidic, beseeching…

“Gaia… please, Seph. I love you, bud. I love you so much. You gotta hang in there… okay? You just gotta. I’m right here. I’m right beside ya. You can come back… right?” And he removed his hand, bringing out his other one, leaning forward to gingerly envelope his treasured friend in a delicate embrace.

“Please…” he whispered one final time into the mercury strands. “Please, Sephiroth… I can’t relive it again.”

[number1-hera-defender]

More Hera and Ganymede because I watched even MORE Bojack Horseman

TW FOR SA AND ABUSE

"Where is the boy?" Hera asked, walking straight past Hyacinthus and Hylas, looking around only to see horror cross their faces. "He isn't with you?!" Hylas exclaimed. "He said he was going to find you!" "And you just let him leave alone! Fools!" Hera scolded before running out of the room, darting straight to Zeus's room, as she got closer, she could hear Ganymede sobbing from inside. "Ganymede?!" She cried, opening the door, only to find the poor boy pinned under Zeus sobbing into a pillow, his fair skin covered in red and angry bruises, blood dripping from his thighs. That was all Hera could focus on. He was bleeding again, Hera went limp for a moment, she had promised him that would happen again, that he would safe and she failed him... She suddenly wanted to cry or scream or castrate the bastard that was her brother. "What are you doing?!" Hera shrieked, slapping Zeus before shoving him away from the young man. "Iris get in here now!" Iris darted in, Ares following behind her, her dear son quickly turned pale at the sight of Ganymede, while Iris scurried in, quickly bringing the boy out the room. "What do you want you old bitch?!" Zeus yelled, grabbing her by the arm, squeezing tightly. "Get off of me!" She cried, trying to push him away before Ares stepped in, punching his father, Ares just pushed her towards the door. "Go find Ganymede, I'll take care of him, promise mother." Ares nodded before shutting the door. Hera stood there for a moment before she ran to find Iris and Ganymede, praying to Gaia that he was okay.

[plumbboo]

Wicked Roommates 6/8

Gaia Earthling | Plant Sim

And They Were Roommates…

Features: Skin | Skin Overlay | Veins | Skin Foliage | Sapling | Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Lip | Contacts | Ankle Branches

Everyday: Hair | Outfit* | Bracelet Formal: Hair | Earrings | Bracelet | Outfit Athletic: Hair | Top | Shorts | Socks Sleep: Hair | Top | Underwear Party One: Hair | Necklace | Top | Skirt | Purse* | Heels Party Two: Hair | Necklace | Falling Leaves | Staff | Outfit & Wings Swimwear: Hair | Top & Bottoms Hot: Hair | Bracelet | Top & Bottoms Cold: Hair | Bracelet | Scarf* | Outfit

*tsr

This free-style plant sim loves anything to do with nature. She is known to be an outdoor enthusiast and enjoys spending most of her time in nature or taking care of her plants. She is a climate change advocator and fighter for protecting the planet. She reacts poorly to people harming the environment and will get angry if she sees you fishing or not taking care of your houseplants. Nobody is quite sure how she came into creation (or why she eats so many greens) but her kindness and passionate nature had grasped the hearts of her roommates.

Thank you cc creators <3

@northernsiberiawinds @daylifesims @okruee @seoulsoul-sims @sheabuttyr @belaloallure3 @gegesimmer @dansimsfantasy @astya96cc @pyxiidis @pralinesims @bluecravingcc @caio-cc @lady-moriel @simstrouble @serenity-cc @lordreboot @arethabee @simandy @clumsyalienn @simsonico @blahberry-pancake @sakuraflora @lamatisse