#nice girls dont explode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlabeth · 1 year ago

Text

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode.

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets.

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart.

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown.

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it.

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.”

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?”

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.”

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him.

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.”

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.”

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize.

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size.

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper.

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun.

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning.

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked.

“She did.”

He frowned. “Where is she, then?”

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on.

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.”

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed.

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body.

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now.

“��Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!”

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away.

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later.

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far.

…Gods.

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought.

“Luke—”

“No!”

“Luke, please!”

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—”

“She won’t know!”

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!”

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head.

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips.

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!”

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.”

“If you say a single word—”

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.”

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.”

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.”

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile.

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.”

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.”

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.”

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.”

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.”

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him.

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable.

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then…

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise.

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?”

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here.

“Never better.”

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said.

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people.

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said.

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?”

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.”

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.”

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night.

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity.

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say?

“I’m curious,” he decided.

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her.

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked.

“And how it killed the cat?”

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.”

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.”

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.”

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Who’s her parent?”

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting.

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.”

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved.

He had a sister?

“I have a sister?”

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.”

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her.

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young.

Gods.

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?”

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.”

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry.

“How did you meet her?”

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school.

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly.

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.”

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance.

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.”

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about.

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.”

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.”

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes.

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy.

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?”

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said.

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.”

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.”

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.”

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself.

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.”

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.”

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off.

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.”

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.”

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.”

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.”

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.”

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front.

A letter.

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.”

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took.

So he took the letter when Luke offered it.

To the one and only Luke Castellan,

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash.

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this.

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is.

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost.

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry.

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her.

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.”

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it.

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.”

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.”

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke.

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.”

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her.

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to.

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…”

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming.

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.”

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father.

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.”

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck.

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along.

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.”

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.”

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again.

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.”

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?”

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.”

Annabeth went silent.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.”

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.”

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.”

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.”

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push.

“How did you meet her?” he asked.

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think.

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical.

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it.

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind?

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia—

Where was Thalia?

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age.

Thalia—

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else.

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?”

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids.

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!”

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—”

“Annabeth!”

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt.

“Luke, you’re hurt—”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.”

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—”

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words.

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years.

“Luke?” you whispered.

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead—

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?”

“My friends—”

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.”

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.”

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading.

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever.

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought.

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep.

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock.

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert.

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it.

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story.

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?”

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.”

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets.

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?”

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.”

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff.

“You know what I mean.”

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them.

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?”

“The usual,” you mumbled.

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked.

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.”

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?”

“Bullseye.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.”

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.”

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh.

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke.

“Can you stay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Just like old times,” you whispered.

“Just like old times,” he agreed.

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke.

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it.

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead?

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough.

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

And by the gods, you believed him.

#reader is the mara of she ra the mikey berzatto of the bear the nellie crain of hill house DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

3K notes · View notes

yanyandam · 3 months ago

Note

(I just started following you and LOVE your work so far and… AHHH ITS AMAZING *chefs kiss*)

I was wondering if i could make a request JUST PURE FLUFF of a fic with Sanzu but the happy ending Sanzu u know how in the happy ending he becomes a pro YouTube with his sister?? Well do u think you could do Sanzu x painter reader with a big artistic mind??? Like where shes pregnant with his kid and having all these emotions making her artistic mind explode and sanzu is just posting lives/videos/pics reading out loud all the positive comments his fans are saying about her art though her 9 months pregnancy. Then going to a Timeskip where there 5-10 years old son/daughter (your pick) finds the old paintings there mom did while pregnant with them and asks sanzu about it to which he shows all the lives/videos/pics of reader painting and when pregnant and when reader comes backs from whatever she was doing she’s gets surprised to see their kid and sanzu painting together on a livestream

(AHHH sorry that’s its long and probably confusing you don’t have to do it if u don’t want to but it would be nice to see what you do with this NO PRESSURE PLEASE DONT FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO IT again LOVE your work <3)

YOOO omg this was so detailed I had to recheck stuff just to be sure I didn't misunderstand anything. HERE. It isn't very long but I hope you like it looove. LOVE YAA thanks for the support

SANZU X PAINTER!FEM!READER

Sanzu met her at school.

He barely showed up to class, maybe once a month, tops, just enough to keep the school off his back and say he “tried.” Just enough so the year wouldn’t be a total loss. Even he knew you had to fake it a little to keep the system from kicking you out too fast. Unlucky for him, they sat him next to the weird girl. The one who looked like she was in love with her pencils. Just her damn pencils. She was hunched over the desk like it was her altar, scribbling away while the math teacher's droning voice echoed through the room like static.

Haruchiyo stared at her sideways. She didn’t look up once. The table beneath her arms was covered in marks, doodles, notes written in tiny, loopy handwriting. All of it cluttered the desk like graffiti. It made his skin crawl. He hated mess. He really hated it when people treated trash like art. Faking interest in the lesson for a second, he clicked his tongue, leaned in a bit, and growled, “The fuck are you doing? Stop drawing on the table. That shit’s disgusting.”

She didn’t even flinch. Just kept sketching calmly, like his voice was background noise. And then, without looking at him: “Is it ugly?”

He blinked. “What?” She glanced at him for the first time. Her eyes were strange. Soft, but unreadable. Like foggy glass. “If it’s beautiful, it decorates. If it’s ugly, it dirties. So?” she asked, voice steady. “Which is it?”

Sanzu frowned, confused and irritated. “What the hell kind of logic is that?” She gave a little shrug, barely a movement. Like she didn’t care about his answer. He reached out and snatched the pencil from her hand with a swift motion, sharp like a slap. “Stop,” he snapped, voice low and venom-laced. “I fucking hate filthy shit.”

She didn’t fight back. Her hand just hovered mid-air for a second before resting flat on the desk again. She didn’t even look mad. No glare. No offense taken. “You’re not gonna grab it back?” he muttered, annoyed by her indifference.

“You’re not gonna give it back,” she replied. And finally, she looked at him, really looked. Not with fear. Not with challenge. Just this weird, distant calm like she was watching him from somewhere far away, even though they were just inches apart. “You don’t like dirty things,” she said quietly.

“No shit.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” she answered simply. “Just wondering what name I’ll write when I draw”

“You don’t need to know it,” he muttered.

She nodded.

—

“What the fuck is that?” he muttered, barely glancing at it. Sanzu sat on the cracked cement bench like it had insulted him. That’s when she walked up to him, again. He clocked her in his periphery, sketchbook clutched in her hand like it was sacred scripture. Without a word, she stood in front of him and held out a folded sheet.

“You,” she answered, plain as day.

His brows pinched together as he snatched the paper from her hand, unfolding it with the delicacy of a guy who never touched anything carefully. The drawing stared back at him: himself, sitting right where he was now, on that same busted bench. It was raw, a little messy, but there was something alive in the lines. Almost too alive. He blinked. “Yeah, I noticed it’s me. It’s also... not bad. But still, what the fuck.”

She tilted her head slightly. “I hope to revive some form of color in the depths of your dull eyes.”

He stared at her. “Stop speaking gibberish.”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she plopped herself down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. For a second, neither of them spoke. Just the quiet hum of distant chatter and the occasional bird screaming like it wanted to join a gang. Then she looked at him, chin resting lightly in her hand. “Don’t you ever want to trade your gloomy life for something a little less... serious?”

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You always look mad. Even when you’re with your weird friend who looks like a vampire.”

“Wait—Baji? Are you spying on me?”

“A little,” she said, deadpan. “But it was unintentional. A coincidence.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Maybe. But so are you.”

Sanzu paused, gave her a sideways glance, then snorted. It wasn’t a laugh, but it was close enough to make her smile. “You’re fucking strange,” he muttered.

“Takes one to know one.”

Another beat passed. He looked down at the drawing again. It really was him, except maybe not the version he saw in the mirror. There was a softness in the sketch, tucked behind the sharp angles and tense posture. It made him uncomfortable. Like she saw something he didn’t want her to. “You seriously draw people all the time?”

“Not always. Just when something about them gets stuck in my head.”

Sanzu raised a brow. “So I’m stuck in your head now?”

She turned her eyes toward the sky. “A little. But it was unintentional. A coincidence.”

He huffed. But he didn’t hand the drawing back. He folded it neatly instead, stuffing it into the inside pocket of his jacket. A few kids walked by in the distance, laughing way too loud. The bell rang faintly from the building behind them. Sanzu didn’t move. Neither did she. “You should stop watching me,” he said finally, voice quieter.

“I probably won’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the bench like the world was too much to carry today. She pulled a small pencil from behind her ear and scribbled something tiny in her sketchbook. He didn’t ask what. He didn’t want to know. He just let her stay there, quietly, drawing lines around the edges of a kid with cracked knuckles and a thousand things he couldn’t name sitting in his chest.

“Here. My number.” She had actually cribbled her number with flowers around it.

Sanzu smiled.

Ever since that bench moment, something shifted. They didn’t plan to see each other again, but somehow it kept happening. Her sketchbook open while he laid back on the grass, eyes closed but fully listening. Sometimes they didn’t even talk, just existed near each other, comfortable in the quiet. Sanzu wasn’t the type to let people in, not even halfway, but she slipped through the cracks like sunlight through blinds. He didn't really hate it. But kind of.

He hated the way her presence made the silence less heavy. How she called out his bullshit without flinching. How she once sketched Mikey like it was nothing and handed it to him saying, “He looks like he bites people for fun,” and Sanzu laughed, genuinely did. How she remembered his favorite brand of cheesecakes and once stole a pack for him like it was an art form.

He caught feelings.

It crept up on him like a bad habit. One second he was making fun of the way she tied her shoelaces, the next he was staring at her lips mid-sentence, wondering what they’d taste like. Sanzu didn’t know how to confess. He’d never done that shit before. He didn’t even know if she liked anyone at all. But his dumbass heart wouldn’t shut up, so he did the only thing that came to mind.

He drew her.

Terribly.

He used a blue pen he found in his jacket pocket and one of those lined notebook pages that were already kinda crumpled. The result looked like a cross between a haunted doll and a criminal sketch, but he was proud of it. Sort of. So he waited after class one day, slipping the paper onto her desk like it was evidence of a crime. She raised an eyebrow when she saw it. “What’s this?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “You draw me all the time. Fair’s fair.”

She unfolded the paper slowly, curiosity in her eyes… and then she burst out laughing. Like, really laughing. Ugly, loud, head-thrown-back kind of laughter. “What the hell is this?! You made me look like I survived a house fire!”

Sanzu scowled, yanking the paper back. “It’s abstract, alright?! It’s art.”

She was still laughing, eyes glistening, tears threatening to fall. “This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her for a second, how happy she looked, how effortlessly she took the moment and turned it into something soft, and it stung in a weird, addictive way. “I like you,” he mumbled.

She blinked, catching her breath. “Because I laughed at your drawing?”

“No,” he said, shoving the paper back toward her. “Because you make me feel like I can breathe.” That shut her up. But the smile stayed.

—

Years later, no one could’ve guessed that the boy who used to barely talk, always looking like he had his two feet in apathy, would become a YouTuber. And not just any YouTuber. Sanzu & Senju, the chaotic sibling duo that somehow managed to rack up millions of views. Their content was just so entertaining and people loved them (not me though I clicked on the dislike button every time). Senju was the energetic heart of it. Sanzu was the wild card, sarcastic and oddly charming, with a stoic façade that always looked a little dangerous. And Takeomi was their not-so-known manager!

Their fans didn’t know much about his personal life. That was the way he liked it. Especially when it came to her.

She had become something of a legend in her own right: a professional painter, a digital artist, a graphist with a cult following in the design world. She never posted her face. Only her work. Abstract colors, twisted realism, raw emotion on digital canvases. She was the kind of artist that made people feel things.

And yeah, they were together.

Had been for a while, actually. Since those high school days when she mocked his terrible drawing and then cried laughing when he confessed with it. But she was never in the videos. Not once. No background glimpse, no tagged hand on Instagram, no anonymous voice off-camera.

Not because he was ashamed. Far from it. Sanzu just didn’t want to share her with the world.

She was his peace. His color. His most private form of joy in a life that had been built too publicly. Letting the internet chew on her identity felt like betrayal. Still, that didn’t stop her from helping him every step of the way. When the “Draw My Life” trend exploded in 2015, Senju begged him to do one. Sanzu wasn’t the type to get sentimental, but she insisted. And when he agreed, it was her who stayed up with him all night in their cramped apartment, sketching frames on the whiteboard, guiding his story out of him with soft encouragements and sharp jokes.

“Damn,” he muttered, watching her hand glide across the board, “it’s weird seeing my life come out in your lines.”

She paused, looked up. “Is that your poetic way of saying you’re traumatized?”

“Probably.”

That video went viral.

Fans loved the dark humor, the raw honesty. The illustrations, though: those were what stuck. “Who did the art?” people commented. “Those sketches hit hard.” Sanzu never answered. He just pinned a cryptic heart emoji and let it be. Over time, she became the silent architect of his aesthetic. His thumbnails, his merch, his channel banner, all her. And when he hit 1 million subscribers, she was the one holding the camera as he popped cheap champagne on their rooftop, laughing like a man who never thought he’d get here.

Only Senju knew the full picture. How much she meant to him. How Sanzu, the one who could barely say “I love you” without cursing in the middle of it, would sometimes sit in silence just watching her paint like it was his favorite show.

Sometimes she joked, “You’re just with me ‘cause I have better linework than you.”

And he’d reply, “I’m with you ‘cause you turned my life into art.”

It was fun, how the quietest guy on the planet had the quietest love story. But that’s the way Haru liked it. Because some things, the best things, didn’t belong to the internet. They belonged to late nights, shared playlists, ink-stained fingers, and stolen kisses between video takes.

They belonged to her.

She told him on a Tuesday. Nothing special about it, just one of those quiet, overcast mornings when the city felt a little too still. He was in the kitchen, arguing with the toaster. "Stupid piece of—" he was mid-slam when she walked in, barefoot, hair messy, holding a tiny white stick like it was a weapon of divine justice.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, blunt as ever.

He turned slowly. “…Sorry?”

She showed him the test, eyes wide but unreadable. “Two of them. Positive.”

Sanzu stared. He blinked once. Twice. Then placed the burnt toast on the counter with slow, almost religious precision. “…You sure it’s not one of those scam sticks?”

“I did two. And I feel like vomiting every five seconds.”

He stared a little longer, jaw tightening like his brain was buffering. “Wait, like… actually pregnant?”

“Yeah…?”

“Fuck.” Yeah that’s lowkey what you two did I guess? And then he sat down. Like, collapsed. Legs gave up, heart hammering in his chest. “I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not,” she said, walking over, calm and weirdly serene.

“I can’t be a dad. I don’t even water the houseplants.”

“We don’t have houseplants.”

“Exactly!”

But somehow, between the panic and the jokes and the sudden rush of weirdly tender silence, Haruchiyo didn’t run. He placed a hand on her stomach, even though there was nothing to see yet. Just warmth. Just the beginning of something terrifyingly huge.

“Shit,” he whispered. “I’m a dad.”

By month two, her hormones had turned her into a full-blown creative hurricane.

She painted like she was possessed: morning, noon, and three a.m. With charcoal-stained cheeks and wild eyes, she'd wake up from a dream and immediately sketch it out. Canvases piled up in the living room. The dining table was lost to acrylics and turpentine. Their walls looked like a gallery curated by Van Gogh on drugs.

He supported it the only way he knew how: chaotically, loudly, and publicly. At the end of every new video, right after Senju’s screaming outro, Sanzu added his own personal “ad segment.” “Before you click off—yo, check this out,” he’d hold up one of her pieces like a proud toddler with a macaroni sculpture. “This one’s called…uh…something. It’s wild. It made me cry. No cap.” People loved it.

What started as chaotic plugs turned into lowkey poetry.

“This one? Bro. She painted this after a nightmare. Said she dreamed the baby had wings. Look at the lines, man. That’s not normal talent.” His eyes would soften. Just a second too long. Just enough for people to start noticing.

@DJBigdaddyRin: “Wait, does Sanzu know this artist?”

@BajiKingTkyo76: “Why’s he always so emotional when he talks about her work?”

And finally, after three months of hinting and hiding and teasing. He cracked. It was in the middle of a video. A Q&A with Senju. Someone had asked, “What’s your favorite artist?”

Sanzu smirked. “Easy.”

Senju raised a brow. “Please don’t say Banksy just to piss people off.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning into the camera. “My favorite artist is the one who’s been painting her soul out in our living room. Who doesn’t sleep, eats pickles with whipped cream now, and…oh yeah, she’s pregnant with my kid.”

Senju’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” He pulled out a painting. “This one’s called ‘Heartbeat.’ It’s our baby’s first portrait.” The internet exploded. Fan pages lost it. The comment section turned into a war zone of congratulations, shock, and genuine awe. Haru felt light.

Because finally, the world saw her the way he did: brilliant, strange, burning with color. Not just the mystery artist. But his artist. And soon, the mother of his child.

For the full nine months, her paintings became the internet’s favorite miracle. No drama. No chaos. No exposés or scandals, just soft, surreal colors and honest brushstrokes that somehow resonated with everyone. People said her work felt like dreams they forgot they had, like lullabies whispered from the belly of the universe.

Every week, Sanzu would post a new one.

“This one’s called ‘Womb’s Eclipse.’ Sounds metal, right? It’s actually… emotional as shit. I almost cried again…”

Sometimes the pieces would sell before he even hit ‘post.’ Other times, he didn’t want to sell them at all. “This one’s for the baby’s room,” he’d mutter, already picking out a frame. Their walls were lined with that pregnancy, swirls of love, fear, craving.. And after their daughter was born, the momentum slowed—but the reverence didn’t. Her paintings stayed online, immortalized. People still messaged about them, tagged her in recreations, tattooed fragments on their skin.

They had made a small, strange legend out of that season of their lives.

—

Years passed.

Their daughter turned seven in the middle of spring, cherry blossoms half-dying on the sidewalks, breeze still sharp enough to cut. She had her mother’s eyes, Sanzu’s temper, and an obsession with painting that only made sense once you knew who her parents were. That afternoon, she tugged on his sleeve while he was editing a video.

“Papa.”

“What?”

“I wanna paint.”

He blinked. “What, like right now?”

She nodded. “Right now right now.”

He grinned, already shutting the laptop. “Say less.”

They dusted off the old supplies. Everything still smelled like turpentine and nostalgia. Sanzu laid out a drop cloth, filled jars with cloudy water, and pulled out a couple of the preserved canvases from The Pregnancy Era. “These,” he told her, tapping the edges, “were painted when you were in mama’s belly.” She looked up at him, blinking. “Inside?”

“Like, swimming around. Kicking her kidneys.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah. And beautiful. And painful. You were art even back then.” He wasn’t expecting the wave of warmth that hit him, seeing her crouch over the paints like her mom did, tilting her head, chewing on her tongue in thought. It hit him so hard, he opened his stream setup and pressed “Go Live.” No filter. No warning.

Just a raw shot of Sanzu and his daughter surrounded by paint and sun, laughing, talking over each other, blending colors without rules. Viewers flooded in immediately.

@IzanaTenjikuFund: “Shit I misclicked”

@HotRacerMikey: “She looks like both of them!”

@ManaMtsyaQueen: “THE LEGACY IS REAL”

They painted whatever came to mind. A castle. A tiger. A portrait of Baji with hearts around his head (“He’s funny,” she said. “He’s scary,” Sanzu corrected). For an hour, it was just father and daughter building color into the quiet. And then, click.

The front door opened.

She walked in, keys jingling in her hand, grocery bag slung on her wrist.

“I’m ho—” she paused in the doorway.

Paint. Everywhere. Her husband and daughter covered in streaks of blue and pink. Two canvases in progress. A livestream active. A thousand people watching.

“…You went live?”

Sanzu looked up at her like a guilty kid. “Uhhh. Yeah. Kind of?”

Their daughter waved a brush. “Mama, look! We’re painting me.”

She dropped the bag on the counter and walked over, eyes scanning the chaos. The familiar smells, the messy brushes, the wall of sunlight across the table, it all came back. Like those nine months never ended. Sanzu handed her a brush.

“C’mon,” he said. “We’re missing your color.”

And just like that, she joined them. One family, three artists, painting a new memory together, on canvas, on camera, on the walls of every person who ever watched them become more than just creators.

They became home.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #baji keisuke #sanzu x reader #sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #haruchiyo akashi #sanzu fluff

161 notes · View notes

star-girl69 · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Blossom

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: headcanons about you and clarisse and your new adopted kid

a/n: idk inspiration strikes randomly but enjoy

Cherry Blossom - Lana Del Rey

warnings: not proofread, probs ooc clarisse but I DONT CARE I DO WHAT I WANT, swearing, mentions of violence and weapons, idk pretty chill, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

clarisse never really felt anything towards kids

sure some of them are cute

she likes her younger siblings, bc she gets a real kick out of being able to teach someone who ACTUALLY has talent

she wants a mini army of ares kids w her skill

she would DESTROY in capture the flag

but then along comes your little sibling ivy

even clarisse admits that that’s a cute kid

and you just LOVE this little baby

she has the same hair color and skin as you and yours just like omg my baby

she comes to camp when she’s like 10

bc her mortal parent has a new family and doesn’t rly want her anymore

she never really talks about it but you know that it hurts her

and then it’s like omg this adorable little baby needs a mom EYE will be her mom

clarisse is so confused as to why you love ivy so much

but you are DETERMINED

clarisse is trying to have a nice little date with you and then you walk over with ivy on your hip

she’s about to like explode

but one day you’re helping ivy get used to holding a sword and clarisse watches you from afar and she’s like OH MY GOD bc you are teaching her WRONG

so she marches over even tho she’s supposed to be doing something

“oh my god y/n y/n please i love you so much but STOP”

“what ☹️☹️”

“you are teaching her wrong just move over again i love you but MOVE OVER”

so then she teaches ivy just like the basic stances and ivy is like GOOD

you’re both impressed

but she just has a natural talent

and then all of a sudden clarisse is like oh yeah so this is my child and i would kill for her

ivy is the most spoiled camper at camp

like she always gets little baubles and things from the hephaestus kids you ask them to make and clarisse threatens them to make

you get her the BIGGEST piece of dessert every day

clarisse is a bit more bad cop tho

she’s not afraid to tell ivy to go do 20 push ups if she does smth wrong

and you’re just like “WHY ARE YOU TORTURING THE PRECIOUS BABY????”

it’s so funny bc you and clarisse will just be like tucking ivy in every night and it’s SO jarring bc clarisse is like “ok my little warrior have sweet dreams” and kissing her forehead

all of your siblings are confused but very happy!!!! ivy deserves loving parents even if they are two teenage girls

ivy is also the most popular and influential 10 year old at camp

like everyone knows her name and everyone knows to give her what she wants

there was this one day when some older camper accidentally bumped into her and bc she’s just a baby and so tiny (☹️❤️❤️) she got KNOCKED to the ground

and you’re like “OH MY GOD MY BABY”

and clarisse is like “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” about to punch the guy and then ivy starts crying bc she skinned her knee and then clarisse is like WHAT

she throws the kid to the ground and she’s like freaking out

overprotective clarisse you can never escape her

so then you’re all like running off the infirmary and ivy is FINE like you and clarisse are just insane

and then one time another younger kid was being mean to ivy and you actually had to hold clarisse back from attacking this 12 year old

ivy definitely picks up her habits from the two of you

someone pisses her off and she will just start attacking them

clarisse is trying so hard not to be proud while you tell ivy that violence is not the answer

but then clarisse is like “OH WHO CARES Y/N THAT WAS SUCH A GREAT KICK AND AN EVEN BETTER PUNCH”

“CLARISSE NO”

the ONLY two people clarisse is affectionate with are you and ivy like ivy is always climbing her like a jungle gym bc clarisse is just so strong and can like do all these crazy things w her

clarisse will literally throw her up into the air really high and catch her

ivy fucking loves it

you have a heart attack

and now they have to do it in secret 💔

you always tuck ivy in together but let’s be real most nights ivy ends up in your bed

and clarisse is all pissed off

so she ends up sneaking into your cabin and your bed every night

like just a huge tangle of limbs and blankets and ivy snores but it’s not that loud and it’s adorable

like the ONE night clarisse didn’t sneak into your bed ivy had a nightmare and you were like oh no way

bc most nights clarisse comes in at like 11pm and you’re already asleep but you know she’s there and you wake up next to her so

but you wake up to comfort ivy and you’re like WHERE THE FUCK IS CLARISSE

and then ivy realizes CLARISSE IS NOT THERE

it’s like some super dramatic scene in a movie you wrap up ivy in a blanket and come into the area cabin and start berating clarisse

“do you just hate us? bc it is ONE THIRTY THREE in the morning and you are NOT in my bed and poor ivy had a nightmare and you WERE NOT THERE”

clarisse is like looking at you like what

half of her siblings are awake and just watching this crying child you’re holding cross her arms and shake her head disapprovingly and clarisse is not even awake yet

“baby idek what you’re saying just come lay down”

“yes but we’re talking about this in the morning”

“…okay”

of course all is forgiven the next morning after a nice sleep

there was this one night you were at the campfire and then ivy just found some random person’s dagger? and she’s like

“y/n!!! clarisse!!! look what i found!!!!”

“what do you have?”

“a knife!!!!”

“NO”

like that one meme y’all know

and then you have to chase her down

clarisse gives her a very blunt sort of dagger thing to play with and ivy is very happy

it’s so weird bc clarisse is like yk being all grumpy and mean and then ivy or you walks around and she’s like AHHHHHH MY LOVES

also when percy shows up he’s so confused

like the scene where she pushes him over you walk over with ivy and then ivy literally JUMPS from your arms to clarisse’s bc she knows she’ll catch her

and then clarisse is like “omg hi my little warrior how is your day?”

“OH MY GOD I THREW A ROCK REALLY HIGH I’M SO STRONG”

you’re like “no seriously it was like 10 feet high”

“omg baby that’s so amazing i’m so proud of you”

then everyone around you is like “oh wow ivy that’s so amazing you are so strong”

bc ivy is just an adorable baby and also bc they don’t want to incur clarisse’s wrath

she don’t PLAY about ivy’s happiness

percy is ????

then clarisse is like “oh isn’t that so funny my 10 year old baby can throw a rock higher than you probably can”

PERCY IS ??????

that’s all i got y’all

in conclusion ivy is just your perfect little angel princess

and you and ivy are the lights of clarisse’s life

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #clarisse and ivy and y/n: the perfect family

665 notes · View notes

cayleeuhithinknott · 28 days ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭 1𝐤 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ! ˎˊ˗

this seems dramatic but i seriously cannot believe i have 1k followers now!! to some people, that might not seem like a lot, but to me it really is. i love writing and reading and i seriously appreciate having an outlet for those 2 things and such amazing people along with it. i never expected this many people to care about what i post or say on here, and i’m so so grateful.

so, as the first part of my 1k special, i wanted to make a silly little appreciation post for my closest friends on this app :) you guys have made this experience so much more fun, enjoyable, and meaningful, and i genuinely love having you in my life.

(p.s. reminder for everyone else at the bottom 🫶)

@mattybsgroupie MOTHER!!! i remember when i first mentioned making an appreciation post, you said, and i quote, “girl if im not first in that list” and i replied “you will be TRUST” SO HERE YOU ARE AT THE TOP!!! maria i literally love you so unbelievably much. you are so sweet and such a talented writer and you got me into sub!matt…you are so fun and kind and uplifting and you never fail to put a smile on my face. hearing you say my writing is good means a lot, because i take major inspiration from you!! you make me feel so safe, welcomed, and loved on this app. i know i can always count on you and i really appreciate that. you’re literally my internet older sister and i love you more than words can describe!

@adorechris OLIVIAAAAA TWIIINNNNNNNNNNNN!!!! okay i know we knew each other long before either of us got tumblr but i freaking love you!! you were also the one that inspired me to download this app so THANKS for allowing me to no longer he a wattpad warrior…i swear we are the funniest freaking people on this planet i WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. i love terrorizing you in your inbox and making it seem like we are the weirdest people on this app. you are literally my best friend i cannot wait to see you! you’re so motivating and uplifting and you’re an amazing writer. i love you lots and lots! (john pork)

@strnilolover GABBY!! my tumblr day 1!!! you were my biggest supporter on my old blog and my very first follower on this one. your writing is so so freaking good and you have made me feel welcome on sturntumblr since day 1! you’re so kind and your themes always eat DOWN! i remember being so happy to make my first tumblr friend when you revealed you were the 🤍 anon. i love you to the moon and back !!

@zenithsturniolo ZEEENNNIIIIIIII!! you are so freaking funny. pls be a comedian. when we were talking about that stalker guy and you said “bitchass.. cracks knuckles” I SCREAMED LAUGHING. ok but seriously you are so nice and supportive and i love your silly comments on my fics! your writing is on another freaking level never fails to make me have to get up and do a lap around the room ! ilysm

@delilahsturniolo DELILAH!! okay we dont talk thattt much but when we do i love it!! you are so freaking sweet and i LOVE sweetheart!matt and barista!reader! your writing is insanely good i literally binge your masterlist every week..i’d love to talk more and i love you!!

@bernardsbendystraws rose!!!! we don’t talk much but when we do you are so kind and funny!! your blog themes always eat and i loooove all your au’s! also your dividers are so freaking cute. you were one of the first writers i started reading and taking inspiration from when i first started my blog. you are such a talented writer and i’d love to talk more!!

@sturnsblogs CEECEEEE!! you are so freaking nice and funny and you’re a baddie!! i love when you explode my inbox and you are so freaking supportive. i literally love you so much!

@sweetshuga ISAA!! we don’t talk much but ilysm!! you’re an insanely talented artist as well as an amazing writer which is so freaking cool!! also you’re literally so gorg. i’d love to talk to you more !

@oopsiedaisydeer INEZ!! i freaking love you. you pop out so many fics and each one is better than the last! you’re literally so good at writing every single genre like?? and you are so kind and supportive of me and i really appreciate that!! im so glad we’re friends and ilysm

@muwapsturniolo peaches!! we dont talk much but i freaking love you. your writing is immaculate like you just have such a way with words??? like?? you’re so talented and sweet!!

@luvs4matt CHERRYYYYYYYYYYY! you got me into dilf!matt. now i have an obsession. i’ve read that masterlist 20 thousand times!! you’re so sweet and funny and such an amazing writer and friend!! you’ve been very uplifting and i really appreciate that :) ily!!

@lilolebambi VIVI!! we also don’t talk all that much, but you also really got me into sub!chris/matt!! — bunny!matt is literally UGHHH i love him!! your writing is sooooo good like you’re just so good with words???? your themes are always so insanely aesthetic too! you’re so nice and silly anddd ily!

@cupiidkills kami!!! your bots are like insanely good and you’re so kind! like i don’t even care what the bot is about, if your name’s on it, im using it!! i’d love to talk more!!

@vanteguccir lele! LOL although we like just became friends, i have loved your writing since i got tumblr!! i literally love you and you’ve been nothing but kind and supportive to me. you are literally such a talented writer like?? not only is your smut insanely good but your fluff is also amazing!! like i love the tour content you’ve written and the tiktok trend fics! you’re so so kind and supportive and i hope we can talk more!!!

(p.s.) if you’re not mentioned above, please know that i still appreciate you so much. i see your likes, reblogs, comments—everything. whether we’ve talked once, a million times, or not at all, i’m genuinely grateful for your presence here. you don’t need to be on this list to matter to me. thank you for being part of this space and for helping me get to this point. i love all my mutuals and followers, even the quiet ones. <3

#cayleeuhithinknott #sturniolo triplets #caylee yaps a lot #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher owen sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #appreciation post #i love you #1k followers #yayyy!!!

52 notes · View notes

eldritch-spouse · 7 days ago

Note

Okay so I've fallen hard for your mushroom boys so i have a few questions about their species and them if that's alright!! Also sorry if this is a lot of questions haha,,

Species:

Okay so most of the mushroom monsters you've described have been pretty normal (well, not normal but like. In the shape of a average one lol) and im curious like, how would a mushroom monster that's a shelf mushroom monster look? After all, I dont think they have stems, they're just caps? Or maybe a puffball mushroom! Big ol boy!

If a mushroom monster was sick, how would that work? Would they start wilting? Do their caps get effected? For ones like Shags, does it effect their ink distribution?

Questions for morell!

How would he react to a piggy that can't taste? Maybe because their taste buds were burned, or their tongue was just gone entirely who knows.

How about a piggy whos SUPER allergic to certain foods? Or like that one girl who can only eat like, 14 types of foods and is allergic to pretty much everything else. Especially if piglet gets so annoyed because his food looks and smells so good!!! But will literally go into anaphalyctic shock if they eat it. (Does that stop them? ...no.)

I know he doesn't take pigs who are pregnant / kids due to the hunter law stuff, but how would he react if one was accidentally brought in? Like maybe a woman who wasn't physically showing yet or having a cryptic pregnancy (which are TERRIFYING i can't lie), or a kid accidentally got mixed in with the wrong place.

Would he ever take a mushroom monster or other monster partner or is he purely human lover? If so, are there certain monsters or behaviors he's enjoy from that?

Questions for Shags!

Same as the last question for Morell—would he like having a mushroom partner or another monster? If so, what would he like in them?

How would he react to an inkling who self-harms similar to him, not for depression or anything (maybe it started out that way), but because it looks good & feels nice?

I read that Shags has met Mothman and so: what if he had a moth partner? Silly guy (genderneu term for me) who sees Shags in a forest and goes "??? Lamp??? Where light????" Flying over, entirely oblivious that he is, in fact, a living person. Moth inkling who will now not leave him alone until they 'fix his light'.

How would Shags be as a father? What would his baby be like? Would his inkling struggle a lot like piglet because of the ink? Wait. Do. Do baby ink shrooms HAVE ink??? That sounds like hell to work with oh gosh.

[Some of these have already been answered. These are a lot of questions, so answers will be short.]

I kinda leave wiggle room for the looks. Mushroom monsters can have all kinds of cap shapes, be it bubbly and perky or saggy and droopy- Very voluminous and wet or flat and somewhat dry-ish.

What happens when a shroom gets sick?

Their caps will show it first, because that's the best way to read their overall health. A shroom's cap may:

Wilt around the edges;

Become unnaturally dry and flakey;

Loose shape;

Drastically change pigment;

Bloat and even explode (lethal);

Rot (deadly);

Cap auto-cannibalism (also deadly);

Etc...

For ink-producing shrooms, a variety of other symptoms may pop up, such as:

Complete dryness;

Overwhelming ink-production;

Foam-like consistency;

Overly thick ink;

Pigment in the ink;

Cap "clogging" (blockage, like having clogged nostrils but if it could kill you)

How does Morell deal with a Piglet who can't taste?

He's disappointed, obviously. But at the end of the day, it's more important to him that you're eating well, regardless of being able to taste things or not.

It is interesting to see you eat a dish most humans find the taste of repulsive though.

How does Morell deal with severe allergies?

Simple. He avoids them. Morell has no desire to trigger any severe shock or minor allergic reaction. He'll ask about your food allergies, and if you're difficult about it, he'll have Patches test you for a definitive list.

Even if your pool of safe food is extremely small, the chef will get crazy with dish presentation and other embezzlements in order to create artificial variety.

How does Morell deal with pregnant humans or kids?

They're returned to their estimated areas of extraction, with no memory of where they were prior.

Morell will never knowingly butcher a child or a pregnant woman. It's the job of suppliers to check before delivering anything to him. He can accidentally butcher a pregnant woman who isn't visibly gravid, which is upsetting to the chef. He'll discard the unexpected organic matter.

Would Morell or Shags take monster lovers?

Morell could try, it wouldn't work out. His fetish for humans is too tempting.

Shags would. However, he's still a humanfucker (as are all monsters here). He has no preference.

Shags with a inkling who self-harms for the same reasons?

It'll mostly spur his obsession further. There's some concern since you're unable to heal your body from scars and amputation the way he is.

He'd like to carve into you one day, make something beautiful on your body.

Shags with a moth partner

Possible. He does have an interest in all kinds of cryptids, and he is mildly lamp shaped.

Shags as a father

Soft-spoken. Has a tendency to be permissive and sometimes exposes his own child to things that are a little too macabre.

He wants to foment every creative impulse his own child has, and actually stops self-harming for the sake of not transmitting that to the kid.

He's extremely involved in his child's life, because his parents were emotionally absent from his.

The baby

Depends. Is he having a child with a human? With another monster?

They will certainly inherit dad's eccentric style. Maybe be a great artist or a critic. Maybe they'll speak quietly like him.

Baby shrooms and ink

Ink-producing shrooms typically start producing ink around early teenagehood, as a part of the puberty process- Where all kinds of changes take place. During this phase, they should be taught self-care regarding their ink, have some changes in wardrobe, and typically learn to study their own health through their ink.

#Morell oc #Shags oc #general tce #pinnie's art

39 notes · View notes

six-eyed-samurai · 10 months ago

Note

Hello ! (I’m not sure if your requests are open but I love your fics so I really wanted to try 😭) Could you maybe write a Genya x Male reader one ? Where like Genya deals with confusion and internalised homophobia after realising he fell in love with a guy ? IM SO SORRY IF YOU DONT DO MALE READERS OR SMTH LIKE THAT, HAVE A GOOD DAY !!

SUMMARY: Genya's emotionally constipated. It's the Shinazugawa genes - but even more so when it comes to...guys?!

A/N: KYAAH Ty anon glad you enjoyed, and DW my inbox is open anytime I'm just a little slow in writing rn because of exams and I'm moving house. I have done male reader before but I'm not too used to writing gay T-T so I'm sorry if this turned out the way you wanted

WARNINGS: Male reader in case you don't read the asks and only warnings/Minor swearing

Much romance happens at Kimetsu Academy.

There's Zenitsu and Nezuko, although Genya considers it more of an obsession on the blonde’s end seeing as Nezuko doesn't openly display any signs of liking him back romantically, whatever the delusional idiot thinks. There's also Tanjiro and Kanao, the perfect epitome of friends to lovers. And whatever Aoi and Inosuke have going on.

But none of that ever happened to Genya. Sure, he thought the occasional girl was pretty or nice, but aside from the fact he explodes into a tomato just from a simple “hello” he's never been actually interested. Of course that occasionally made him feel a bit left out amongst his friends, like he was missing something great, but hey, Muichiro and him would be single pringles forever and that was fine.

(Genya's very betrayed to find out Muichiro had received a confession…and was considering accepting it.)

But it was a little unbelievable to the Kamaboko Squad that in all of the sixteen years of his life he had never had a crush, hence the interrogation they were giving him that particular day during lunch.

“Have you never fallen in love? At all?!” Genya wants to snort; as if Zenitsu would ever notice anybody else's love life but his own.

“HAHAHAHAA! LOSER!”

Tanjiro calmly shoved Inosuke away from a fuming Genya, smiling brightly. “I'm sure Genya has one! And we'll be more than happy to help him confess!”

“Aren't crushes supposed to be secret-”

“Then we have to figure out who it is first!” Zenitsu hollers.

“No-”

“Is it Kocho?!”

Kanao, Tanjiro and Genya both look scandalised but Zenitsu barrels on. Aoi face palms. Inosuke steals everyone's food.

“Is it Kanrojii?!”

“Why is everyone you're listing so much older than me!”

“OKAY, OKAY! Uh…Koyuki-”

“SHE'S ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE!”

“Sheesh, I got it, stop yelling! That Shabana girl?”

“Just why-”

“Maybe Genya does like someone but just doesn't realize it,” Kanao offers timidly.

“That's a good point, Kanao!” Tanjiro beams, causing Genya and Kanao to flush red but for entirely different reasons.

“How am I supposed to know if I like someone?”

“If you find them cute?”

“That seems really superficial,” Aoi says disapprovingly.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?” Tanjiro nods wisely.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke,” Kanao agrees.

Genya considers. “Then none of the girls you just listed, honestly.”

“It's alright, you'll find the one for you one day. There's no rush now.”

“HAHAHA! TENYA IIDA IS GOING TO BE ALONE FOREVER! HAHAHHAA!”

“MY NAME IS GENYA!”

***

Truth be told Genya had lied.

It wasn't a lie exactly either. More of…an avoidance of the truth. He didn't feel that way about any girls Zenitsu had mentioned, or any of the girls at school.

But he did like someone, yes.

Or no. Definitely not. It couldn't possibly be.

“Oh, hey, Shinazugawa.” Your simple wave as you joined his side outside the classroom door was enough to get his heart pounding and slightly sweaty like he had just suffered an entire class with the gym teacher Tomioka.

“Thanks for holding the door!” You call out over your shoulder, flashing him a bright smile while entering the class and taking your seat. You immediately turn to start talking with your friends, something Genya's extreme thankfully for because then you can't see the tomato red that's painting his face as he's still stuck, frozen and speechless, by the door. Only Iguro-sensei’s cold “Do you plan to have the lesson by the door or something?” Shook him out of it.

You're so confusing, Genya thinks, averting his eyes when you catch his with a mouthed “oops” and raised eyebrows, because he wants to revel in your attention and hide in a hole from it at the same time.

It was a pleasant kind of confusion, though. The kind he wouldn't mind thinking about forever; it gave him an oddly warm, fidgety feeling inside like he had just drunk an entire thermos of hot chocolate and got marshmallows to top it off. Then he promptly slaps himself (mentally) because he shouldn't be thinking about this, that and you.

Not like it stopped him from staring at the back of your head all through class. He doesn't realize it until your friend turns their head around and makes a face at him, leaning closer to you to whisper something. Genya panics and ducks his head, burying it into his arms for a few minutes before he judges it's safe to look up.

And when he does you're smiling at him knowingly, as if the both of you knew something the rest don't. Oh good lord.

Your laughter is something Genya wishes he could make as well, when the whole class watches Iguro-sensei trying to tell Inosuke off, but the dumbass can't get the teacher’s name right at all. He finds himself laughing as well, a combination of that and because of you before it hits him.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?”

Oh shit. Check, check, check.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke.”

And check?!

Shit shit shit shit shit-

Genya groans. He does like you after all.

But that's not right, it's got to be wrong.

You're a boy. Genya's not gay…at least he didn't think so…Then again he's never actually liked a girl. But he's never liked a boy either. Until you.

Forget it! You're not a crush, you're the reason why Genya is going to drive himself crazy right now! Hell, why did the idea feel so wrong but so right at the same time?

Genya rubbed his temples. If he was being honest the idea only seemed so wrong because…well, because he's just never considered that possibility before. It just hasn't really occured to him he might be attracted to the same gender. It's a new concept, yes, but…not really a terrible one. He got all red with girls yes but it wasn't because he like-liked them or thought they were cute.

Was crushing on a guy really going to be any different than a girl then? Genya groaned again. Judging by his behaviour these days…yeah, not really.

Okay, then if hypothetically he DID like you and he liked guys…how would Sanemi and his friends react? Would they still want to hang out with him? Would Sanemi still…consider him his brother? What would his mom think?

What a headache. What would…you think? It'd be pretty embarrassing to like you and you're straight, Genya thought. Then again was he even sure he was gay, even certain he had a big fat crush on you?

“Hey, you alright?” The voice startles Genya out of his thoughts. He lifts up his head and looks around, startled to see everyone's left. Shit, he hadn't even realized class was over. Idiot.

He glances to his left and nearly dies of fright.

You cock an eyebrow. “Um, seeing a ghost, Genya?”

“No!” He just about shouts, flailing his arms as he tries to stop himself from falling out of his chair. “I'm fine! Really! Sorry…just, just kinda out of it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Yeah, let's talk about how I've just realized I might be-

“It's fine, it's nothing important.” Genya notices your fidgeting however. “What about you?”

You hesitate. You're playing with your sleeves quite nervously. It's making him paranoid.

“I'm just…there's a new arcade that just opened up.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya offers. He's got barely enough brain cells still functioning from the close proximity between you both.

“I was wondering - um, do you wanna go with me? I can buy all the tokens,” you quickly blurted out and held your breath.

“Sure.”

“N-no. Just you and me. Like on a date.” You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “No - no pressure or anything! I know you might not be into guys, you might already like a girl-"

“You're gay.”

You wince at his tone. Genya wishes he hadn't sounded so accusing. “Last I checked, yeah.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya repeats dumbly, because holy shit, you like him you like guys too he likes guys he really wants to go to the arcade with you oh thank god-

You blink. “So that's a…yes?”

“Absolutely.” Genya waves his hands frantically. “If you're still up for it! Nothing’s awkward! I - I do want to go as a date, not as friends, and, uh-"

He snaps his head away, embarrassed, but he glances back long enough to see you grinning like you've won the lottery.

"Does 2 pm work for you?"

Shit. He really does like you after all. And with the way you're smiling at him like that maybe he can deal with whatever bullshit that's going to come next.

***

“Hey Genya, do you want to come over this weekend?”

“Muichiro wants to go to that pizza place again.”

The Tokito twins stare at him expectantly over the usual din of the Kamaboko Squad's usual shenanigans. Now or never.

“Sorry, I'm busy.”

“With what?” Muichiro looks out off; Yuichiro frowns in surprise.

“With someone.”

The silence was so thick you could've cut it with a knife - or Zenitsu's screaming.

“WHO?”

“HAR?!”

“Is it a date?” Tanjiro managed to slap a hand over the blonde's mouth while Aoi deals with Inosuke. The twins and Kanao's mouths hang open in surprise.

Genya picked at his food. “Yeah. At the new arcade.”

“Congratulations!”

“I thought you were planning to be single forever-”

“Shut up, Mui!”

“With who?"

He says your name and again the silence is thick.

Tanjiro's eyes light up in recognition and shock. “Isn't that the new boy?”

Genya nods stiffly.

“You're…gay?” Kanao asks tentatively.

Genya nods again.

“I had no idea! I never would've guessed either.” Tanjiro shakes his head, stunned. Much to Genya's relief…he's smiling? “But good for you, Genya, I'm sure you'll enjoy the date!”

This wasn't so bad after all. It's like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Now it's just how well…Sanemi will take it and his family. Probably not as easy.

“I thought it was a little weird you rejected that cute girl the other day.” Muichiro looks excited. “Now I've got a gay best friend!”

“What are you, twelve?” Yuichiro grumbles, but turns to Genya. “Have a good time then.”

“THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE! DON'T SHOCK US LIKE THAT, GENYA!” Zenitsu finally squawks, clutching his heart.

“Wait, what's gay?” Inosuke's lost. “Is Genma happy or something?!”

Never mind.

***

“Damn, I knew you were good at shooting, but basketball too?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, pretending to throw an imaginary ball as Genya throws an actual one through the basket easily.

“Heh, this one's just easy since it's so near.” The machine flashes lights and beeps, displaying a new highest score. “And kinda short.”

“You are pretty tall,” you agreed, counting the leftover tokens. “Hey, we still have enough for that claw machine!”

“Seriously?”

So far the date's going pretty well. Genya hadn't made a fool of himself when you showed up dressed up in that letterman jacket and excitedly tackled him yelling about how you managed to get about an entire bag's worth of tokens. You both had spent your time mostly fooling around playing air hockey, shooting games (he had a moment of crisis before sitting next to you in the cramped space), he got forced to dance with you, you claimed he cheated at the racing, he won you a figurine as an apology for accidentally smacking your hand during Whack-A-Mole. Genya was kind of regretting that now, because you were now convinced Genya had amazing luck and could continue to win you more prizes. But as Sanemi said - a million times - those things were a scam, so Genya compromised by saying if only there was tokens leftover from the basketball game.

Alas and alack, he supposed, but you were already speeding towards the claw machine.

“Come on, come on, almost there, almost there!” Your chanting is barely heard over the obnoxious arcade music but you're practically breathing down his neck.

“Okay, okay, I got it, shut up for a sec.” Genya's grip on the controls is so tight he's actually afraid he might rip out the joystick by mistake like Sanemi last time…although Sanemi had done that on purpose during his rage quit and since had been banned from that particular arcade.

“Dear Kami-sama, please, please, please-”

“SHIT.”

“NOOO! So close!” Your head's tossed back in an exaggerated groan, flipping off the stupid claw that let go just a second too early. “I could've won that Hashira figurine!”

“I was the one playing!” Genya protested.

“I got the tokens!”

“I offered to pay you back! You said no!”

You punched his shoulder playfully. “Hey, this was supposed to be my treat. You can pay for the next date.”

“Next - next what-"

“Oh jeez, your face is so red now. Let's get some fresh air; I know a good dessert store.”

Genya's down bad alright.

***

“Where the hell have you been?”

It's already late by the time Genya lets himself into the house. His siblings should've been asleep, his mom too, so hopefully he could…uh, break the news the next day, when he's written and planned everything out, chewed off his nails and get that support you promised him earlier.

Luck had decided to abandon him since his second attempt at the claw machine however, since now he's been caught kicking off his shoes and smiling down at his phone, at the picture you've sent him of the figurine in your shelf.

>>Maybe I'll get more from you

You wi<<

He shuts off his phone quickly. Sanemi’s sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and does not look like a happy camper. Genya tries for an innocent smile. He probably looks like he has a stroke. If Sanemi were a cop, every criminal would be cracking in less than a minute under his interrogations.

“Out with a friend. Sorry I'm late, I was talking them back home.”

“Really? Saw all your friends - Tokito twins and that Kamado kid - earlier today. Try again."

“Someone else.”

“Cut to the chase, Genya, you were out on a date, weren't you?” Sanemi barks.

Genya's shoulders slump. “Yeah. Please don't be mad, I did tell Mom.”

“You should focus on studying. Your math grades are still too low.” Sanemi's expression softens, just slightly. "Who's the lucky girl?"

“Ah.”

“I swear to god, if it's that Shabana girl-”

“It's a guy.”

A very awkward beat of silence.

“WHO?!”

Genya almost expects to be attacked when he says your name. Or mauled after Sanemi demands every detail of what went down at the arcade. Maybe thrashed while finally confessing yes, he's not straight. But not stand there while Sanemi stares at him, strangely quiet.

“You two didn't do anything suspicious?”

Nope. You'd been quite understanding when he admitted he was still kind of getting used to the newness of…all this and offered to save a kiss for next time, causing him to explode into scarlet and try to poke you with his straw. “Aniki!”

“Is this a new thing or have you been…keeping this from me?” Unbelievable. His older brother almost looks hurt by that notion.

“A new thing, I swear, I wasn't planning on keeping anything from you, I was just waiting for the right time and right thing to say and I - I didn't know how you'd react.”

“Well…” Sanemi mutters something unintelligible, eyes moving away slightly.

“Um…what?”

“I SAID, AS LONG AS YOU'RE HAPPY WITH HIM, IT'S FINE BY ME! NOW GO TO SLEEP!”

Genya couldn't stop his grin. “Really? Thank - thank you, Aniki, and okay, I will.”

“And don't do anything too intimate before you're married!”

***

You spat out your straw. “He said what?”

Genya takes a long sip of his latte, slipping his hand into yours. “I didn't make that up.”

“No,” You say, shaking your head. “That sounds like Shinazugawa.”

#sanemi about to get a brother in law 👀👀👀#Sunny's Works #genya x reader #genya x y/n #genya x you #genya shinazugawa x you #genya shinazugawa x reader #genya shinazugawa x y/n #genya x male reader #genya shinazugawa x male reader #x male reader #kny X reader

127 notes · View notes