#free electric camping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jnkgrnde · 2 months

Text

— can you stand the rain?, clarisse la rue, pjo

FREE PALESTINE: LINKS TO HELP

summary — in which, you and clarisse get into an argument that causes you to kiss in the rain.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

content includes — arguing, kissing in the rain, best friends to lovers, jealous!clarisse

authors note — TELL ME BABY CAN YEWWWW STAND THE RAINNNNNN 🗣️🎤 this is def butt but this has been in my drafts for way too long so!

it was a beautiful, sunny day in long island. the smell of strawberries from the fields established themselves as today’s scent for the camp, the lake was cool enough for a dip.

it was a perfect day.

and it was a perfect day for you and clarisse to hang out with each other. you wanted to convince her to take a day off from training and take a swim in the lake to cool off for the day, before eventually doing something stupid later.

you knew clarisse was up because she was always up before you, so you decided to knock on the ares cabin door first to find her. her younger brother told you she wasn’t there and that you could find her at the sparring field. you thanked him with a smile before leaving to find her. lo and behold, there was clarisse la rue in her armor with her electric spear, training with a dummy.

you didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but the training dummy looked about out of comission. “d’you wake up on the wrong side of bed or did you add him to your hate list?” she halted her movements, dust flying beneath her shoes.

“did you need something, sweet thing?” and there she went with the nicknames. she knew you loved them, and she also knew you’d get tripped up by them. “so i was thinking we’d take a dip in the lake today.” and you knew what she was gonna say,

“y/n, you know i have to train today—“ “but that’s what you do everyday, clar! please? just for today?” you begged. you gave her your infamous puppy eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t turn away from. she groaned dramatically. “… you got me. i’ll meet you by the canoes in ten.” you grinned with excitement. “thank you thank you!” you kissed her cheek before running off.

she stood frozen for a second before a smile started spreading across her face. her cheek felt tingly in the spot you kissed her in.

you wore a white overshirt with a blue swimsuit underneath, paired with jean shorts. you carried a bag, sunglasses in your hair. you walked over to the lake, a smile on your face knowing you could be in one of the places you loved most.

you saw clarisse standing near the canoes watching the water. she had a towel laid out and was just taking her shoes off when you covered her eyes. “boo.” clarisse feigned annoyance, but still let a smile grace her lips.

you set down your bag on the sand, taking your shirt and shorts off. “not gonna join me, clar?” “nah. gotta keep watch, y’know, for butterflies and stuff.” you rolled your eyes with a smile before walking into the water, eventually going deep enough to wear you can float. you swam out enough for the sun to beam down on you, and just let yourself feel the water.

clarisse watched you. she loved watching you anytime, but she especially loved when you were in your environment. she took note of the smile on your face and how you occasionally paddled your hands to make sure you kept yourself afloat, although with your powers and everything, it wasn’t hard.

clarisse admired her surroundings before her eyes caught a boy staring at you — carter from hephaestus cabin. he was deeply tanned with a good build and curly hair, and had scars all over his hands and face from working on weapons for the camp.

carter watched with a small smile. he held a gold necklace in his hands, twisting them around. it had a sea turtle pendant, and it shined in the sunlight.

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. she didn’t like what she was feeling — you were just friends, right? it’s just her being protective over you. she didn’t want you to get hurt or anything. she was sure that’s what it was.

it was a while before you decided to get out of the water. you didn’t realize how long you’d been there before noticing that it was starting to get a little cooler. you swam, then walked back to shore, but not before being stopped by carter.

to you, carter was a sweet, caring boy, just not for you specifically, because you had your sights set on someone else. he was starting to show he liked you, and got bolder as time went on. “hey, y/n. i made you something.” he told you nervously but still with a smile. he held out the necklace to you, the sea turtle shining in the light.

you let out a genuine smile before thanking him, not noticing the burning daggers being glared into the back of his head. he offered to put it on for you, so you turned and he slowly locked the chain together.

“thank you, carter.” you smiled before walking over to clarisse. you found her not so happy, actually stuffing things into your bags. “hey, clar, what’s wrong?” you reached out to touch her arm, and she pulled away like you were a hot pan burning her.

you furrowed your eyebrows in hurt and confusion. her face was scrunched up and she looked at you like you disgusted her. she shoved your bag to your chest before storming off back to the main campgrounds.

“clarisse!” you slung your bag on your shoulder and ran to try and catch to her, but she was already gone. your heart squeezed in your chest and you frowned before continuing to walk to your cabin.

a million thoughts swirled around in your head — why was she acting like this? you were just friends, right? you knew she was protective of you, yes, but not to this extent. you opened the doors to the poseidon cabin, where it was empty. you assumed percy was probably out with annabeth on a date, probably.

clarisse didn’t know why she felt this way; she hated it. she hated the way she acted when you touched her, or how she felt giddy and mushy inside whenever you look at her with your pretty eyes. she hated feeling the way she did around you, because she usually feels guilt, anger, or needing to please her father. that’s how she thinks she’s supposed to feel, how she’s wired to feel.

you make her actually feel like a good person, and she knew she impacted you with the way she acted that day.

it was later at night at the dining pavilion. torches were lit, dryads were flying around with silver platters with food, and campers from different cabins were chatting and laughing with eachother. the energy was high, seeing as there was a planned campfire tonight, with the apollo cabin leading the sing along.

you and percy sat at the poseidon table. his plate was full, and he had blue soda on the side. you gave him a small smile. “have you not eaten since breakfast?” you asked. “nah. annabeth wanted to go on a hike and i forgot to eat after.” you flicked his forehead. “why didn’t you tell me? i have a secret stash in the cabin!” you whisper-yelled. “i’m sorry!” he whined. you both laughed as the conversation flowed.

clarisse stole many glances from the poseidon table, specifically from you. despite what happened earlier in the day, you still smiled. her chest squeezed at the sound of your laughter. she poked her tongue against her lips before looking down at her plate.

it was after dinner where you and clarisse actually saw each other. she was sitting with the ares cabin, and you were sitting with percy and a couple other mutual friends. every time you looked up from the fire, there was clarisse who was staring at you no matter what. you quickly looked away every time you made eye contact.

the empty seat next to you was soon filled, but not by who you actually wanted it to be. carter sat next to, playing with his hoodie strings and smiling at you. “d’you need something, carter?” you asked. you didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you weren’t as enthusiastic as you were earlier.

“well, i wanted to know if you were free later this week? i-i had something planned and-“ “no, she’s not free.” and standing in front of you was the woman of the hour.

you snapped your eyes up at the familiar voice. she held a glare directed at carter. before anybody could say anything, chiron announced that the campfire had to end early, seeing there was a storm starting to move in. “so, um, are you coming?” carter persisted. “i’ll get back to you on that, carter.” you gave a small smile before getting up. you shot clarisse a look before walking back with percy to the poseidon cabin.

the night was dark, and thunder started rolling in. the camp turned in for the night, all except for one. there was a tapping on your window, waking you up from your sleep. you groaned, already starting to yell at whoever it was before you recognized clarisse.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what are you doing here?” she held her hand out without a word. you hesitated, looking back at percy to see him fast asleep. you looked back at clarisse, and she looked desperate. you slipped on your shoes before taking her hand and letting her guide you out the window.

she walked with you, out to the woods and seemingly to your secret spot, the spot that was reserved for you and clarisse only. “clarisse, why are we out here?” you asked her once you finally stopped.

your emotions were already starting to heighten, the rain slowly following. she stared at you for a second. “i’m sorry.” she apologized. “why? you left me with no explanation like i was some animal on the street and ignored me. why?”

she breathed out a heavy breath. “him.” she whispered. “what?” “because of carter!” she snapped. you were confused, “what does this have to do with him?” clarisse looked at you like she begged you to understand, like you were supposed to know why.

“because he likes you,” she put out simply, “and i don’t want him to.” you blinked while taking in her words. she was closer to you than before now, her breath on your face. she soaked you in, watching the rainwater run down your face. she came to the realization.

“i like you,” she barely spoke. “i like you, and i don’t want him to like you.” you stood in shock. clarisse liked you. she liked you back, and you had no clue. you cupped her jaw and pulled her down to your lips. it was passionate, like she would die without feeling you again. you pulled away, “so, you stormed off because you liked me?” clarisse rolled her eyes with a smile. “well, when you put it like that.”

you pulled her back with a laugh and the rain getting lighter throughout the kiss, eventually allowing the stars to shine.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

508 notes · View notes

gracieeegleegal · 3 months

Note

Omg please do an angsty imagine where we are the daughter of some god (maybe Zeus or hades) and find out about Luke’s betrayal and he tries to recruit us but it only ends in arguments

Betrayals embrace - Luke Castellan

pov - Luke Castellan was the lightning thief all along and you the clueless girlfriend who never knew better.

Pairing : Luke Castellan !femoc x Zeus daughter

In the heart of Camp Half-Blood, under the watchful eyes of the gods, a storm brewed within the soul of y/n, daughter of Zeus. Her relationship with Luke Castellan, once filled with laughter and affection, now teetered on the edge of betrayal and heartbreak.

Y/n stood, tears in her eyes as she stared into the eyes of her lover, eyes that now held the truth of his actions and the haunting revelation that had shattered her world—Luke's treacherous plan to free Kronos and destroy the very gods they were supposed to honor and serve.

More tears pricked at her eyes as she recalled the countless moments they shared, the promises of a future together, now tainted by lies and deceit. She clenched her fists, feeling the crackle of electricity surging through her veins, a reminder of her divine heritage and the weight of responsibility that came with it.

She had trusted him, loved him dearly and all she got in return was the inexorable betrayal that had shattered her heart.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice smooth like honey,a certain nervousness hanged in his tone. In the 10 minutes they had been in the forest, y/n stayed silent through it all. Not knowing what to say or do after Luke admitted to his actions.

That he tried to drag Percy into the pits of Tartarus. That he had lied about it all.

"Luke," she replied, her tone laced with bitterness and hurt.

Luke stepped forward, his eyes searching hers for any sign of wavering resolve. "I know this is difficult for you to understand, but we can change the world. We can free ourselves from the tyranny of the gods, create a new order where demigods are no longer pawns in their games. We can be free, you can kill your father after all the pain he’s caused."

Y/n shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "And what of the innocent lives that will be lost in the wake of your ambition? Have you no conscience, Luke? Do you realize that if you go forward with this, you’ll lose your family here. You’ll lose me.”

His expression hardened, a flicker of anger betraying his calm facade. "You were always too soft, y/n. Too blinded by your loyalty to those who have treated you as nothing more than a pawn in their own schemes. Why do you defend him? After he killed your sister! After he killed Thalia. He could’ve stopped it.”

He reached out to her, his touch a cruel mockery of the affection they once shared. "Y/N, please understand. This is our chance to make things right, to rid ourselves of the gods who have only brought us pain and suffering."

But even as he spoke, the truth of his betrayal cut deeper than any blade. Y/N recoiled from his touch, her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed.

She backed up at his words, the sting of truth laced with venom. Memories of Zeus's indifference and neglect flooded her mind, a painful reminder of the fractured relationship she shared with her divine father. She was transported back in time when she had arrived at camp for the first time. A reminder of the sister she lost, the sister who sacrificed herself for her sisters.

A painful reminder that no matter what, the gods will never care enough to save their children. If they did, things would be a lot different.

But even in the face of betrayal, y/n couldn't bring herself to abandon her friends at Camp Half-Blood, the only family she had ever known.

"I may be the daughter of Zeus, but I am also a daughter of Camp Half-Blood," she declared, her voice trembling with emotion. "I will never betray them, Luke. I understand you better than anyone, I really do. But I can’t do that to them. I can’t, and you know that. "

Luke looked shattered, he would have thought that the girl would side with him. After all she was the one who understood him the most, understood his reason. “I didn’t wanna have to do this, y/n, I’m sorry. You have given me no choice.”

“We always have a choice.” Without warning, Luke lunged forward, his movements fueled by desperation and rage. Their clash was fierce and unrelenting, the crackle of lightning mingling with the clash of celestial bronze. Each blow exchanged was a testament to the shattered bonds of trust and love that once bound them together.

Luke’s attack got harder and harder, as their swords smacked together in the night. The fireworks covering the sound of the lovers fighting each other.

“Luke! You don’t have to do this!” Y/n struggled against his attacks. She didn’t want to hurt him, but Luke was so blinded by rage that he couldn’t seem to care that he was hurting her.

“Luke!” This time the screaming had come from another voice. Percy and Annabeth were running towards the scene.

In a moment of distraction when y/n turns her gaze towards the two teenagers, she feels pain in her abdomen. She glanced down, Luke’s sword had stabbed her in her stomach. She gasped softly, tears forming in her eyes as she held onto the sword that was still pierced in her flesh.

“Y/N!” Percy and annabeth screamed her name but her focus was stuck on the man that had betrayed her

Red was gushing from her wounds into her hands that were now touching Luke’s. The boys eyes widened. What had he done? The girl dropped to the ground, blood running everywhere. Her shirt was now tainted red, as well as her hands and her lovers hand.

In the end, it was y/n who lay battered and broken at his feet, her resolve unbroken even as her body screamed in protest. Through tear-stained eyes, she watched as Luke cradled her frame. Regret and sadness reflected in his eyes.

“Y/N..” he whispers softly, he gripped her body tighter. Not wanting to let go of the woman he loved. “I’m sorry. Im so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Percy and Annabeth after standing still watching the scene with tears in their eyes finally approached the couple. Swords in their hands.

Luke glanced at the couple, then back to the bleeding girl. “I’m sorry.”

With a heavy heart, he turned away, leaving her broken and bleeding in his wake. Percy and Annabeth running to her aid.

As darkness threatened to claim her, y/n whispered her final words into the cold embrace of the night. "I love you, Luke."

---

When she awoke, it was to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the gentle touch of familiar hands. Percy Jackson and Annabeth stood at her bedside, their expression a mask of concern and sorrow.

"You're going to be okay, Y/N," Percy reassured her, his voice a soothing balm against the ache in her heart.

But the pain of loss was a wound that ran deep, one that no amount of time or healing could ever hope to mend. With a broken sob, Y/N buried her face in the boys shoulder, mourning the loss of the love she had once held so dear.

And as the tears fell like rain, she couldn't help but wonder if somewhere, amidst the echoes of betrayal, there was still a glimmer of the boy she had loved, lost, and ultimately, forgiven.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo

599 notes · View notes

hihomeghere · 2 months

Text

Fishing in the dark | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word Count : 1.3k (a little guy) Summary : You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota River. Warnings/tags : Cursing, unprotected piv, talk of nudity (both male and female), cursing, reader can swim, s3x in the river, established relationship, set in chapter 3

The Dakota River was now your favorite place to be at sunset. The cool breeze coming off the sparkling water, your body cushioned by the bed of grass. The way the setting sun cast a golden light over everything it touched.

Getting away from the gang for a while had been Arthur’s greatest idea yet. After all that mess in Valentine had led you to Clemens point. Sat on the east coast of Flat Iron lake, near the town of Rhodes. Getting eaten alive by mosquitos while the heat of the Scarlett Meadows sun beat down on you.

And although you thought maybe a room in Rhodes would have been a better way to keep each other company, you couldn’t beat this view.

Arthur stood on the shore, fishing pole in hand. His tall silhouette dark against the golden light, his shadow growing longer on the rocks. What a sight, every subtle flick of his wrist, his bicep tensing and he pulled on the pole. You didn’t even know why he was still fishing so late. He had already caught dinner, which you had prepared over a small fire. While along the shore you had picked some burdock root and common bulrush for camp, knowing that Miss Grimshaw could find some use for the plants. At long last the sun fell below the horizon, a sliver of burnt amber spreading across the sky before being enveloped by a dark blue. The moon slowly rose above you. A beautiful yellow spotlight peeking through the trees.

Arthur stood, still as a statue, as though he was carved of marble. A wicked thought entered your head, slowly you moved to unlace your boots. Pulling them off until you could dig your toes into the grassy floor beneath you. Then you untied the strings to your skirt. Letting the fabric fall, along with your shirt. Leaving you standing in only your chemise, and it wasn’t long before that was discarded as well.

Arthur had heard the slight rustling of fabric behind him, but he was honestly too preoccupied with the pole in his hands. Enjoying the quiet serenity of the river. That was until you ran butt ass naked into it.

“Darlin!” He yelled his eyes widening in shock as your laughter joined the sound of water splashing.

“Come on cowboy!” You called submerged to your waist, your breasts above the water for any passersby to see. Maybe it wasn’t your best idea yet, the freezing water chilling your bones.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled, unfortunately amused by your actions even though he knew he shouldn’t be.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You called back, teeth chattering by the sudden drop in temperature.

“It looks like you’re giving anyone that passes through a free peep show.” He called his hand resting on his gun belt as he not so casually adjusted himself. You stepped back further into the dark water until only your shoulders and up were visible.

“When did you become such a prude?” You chided a teasing smile on your lips.

“When someone could lay eyes on my woman.” He said laying down his pole, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt a shiver run down your spine, whether it was from his words or the cold water you couldn’t tell.

“Well get in here and claim your woman before someone else does!” You called, a shit eating grin spreading across your face.

Arthur sighed, looking down as the brim of his hat shielded most of his face from you. Your grin only grew as he unbuckled his gun belt, letting it fall to the ground. He pulled his suspenders off his broad shoulders. He shook his head, his own grin growing on his face as he began to pull off his clothes.

“You’re gonna get it girl.” He warned, his eyes taking on a dark haze. His lips pulling back into a smirk, looking down at you like prey. An electric shock of anticipation ran up your body as he finally pulled off the last layer, his cock springing up against his stomach. He stepped forward, wading into the water. “Jesus!” He yelped, a shiver running through him.

“It’s not that bad!” You called with a laugh.

“Not that-“ He shook his head, “Christ I can’t feel my toes.” He muttered swimming over to you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you held onto his shoulders

“Hey there.” You grin, watching the water droplets run down his face.

“Howdy.” He muses, you place your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your palm.

“Still cold?” You ask sweetly.

“Very.” He chuckles.

“I think I could warm you up.” You say biting your lip.

“Please do.” He says softly as you lean forward. Your nose bumping against his as you stare him down. He leans forward pressing his lips against yours. His tongue swiping along your lower lip as he pressed you down onto his pelvis. Clenching around nothing as his cock bumped against the nub of your clit, a soft moan leaving your throat.

“I can feel that.” You said softly, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes.

“I’m sure you can.” His chest rumbling as he chuckled. He moved his hand from your waist and reached down between your legs. The tip of his length catching against your entrance. “Think you’re wet enough?” He teases, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he smirks.

You bite back a rebuttal as he slips inside you with ease, he swallows your gasp as his mouth covers yours. Groaning into your mouth, a deep almost primal noise. One that sends pleasure shooting through your body. You whine as he pulls out slightly, only to press your body down onto his pelvis. His cock rubbing against that spot inside you.

He knows this dance like the back of his hand, how to make you tick, more specifically how to make you scream. The hand that’s not holding your hip with a vice like grip moves up your body, his hands splayed against your stomach. Before reaching up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple.

“Arthur.” You gasp, feeling him rut against you, growling against your neck like a wild animal.

“Feel so good darlin’.” He huffs against your neck, nipping and kissing as he continues his attack on your pussy. His cock thrusting deep strokes against your walls. Your body is buzzing, your toes curling as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He can feel you flutter around him, his lips quirk up. He moves his hand down to between your legs, rubbing your clit.

You cry out, a pitiful noise as you cum around him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows knit together as your jaw hangs open. He smirks, tilting his head back as a low, shit, leaves his mouth.

His hips start to stutter as he pounds into you, trying to reach his orgasm while you’re still working through yours. He’s quick behind you, his hands holding you so close against him you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He thrusts into you one last time, a choked groan rumbling in his chest. You hold onto him as his dick twitches inside of you. Painting your insides with his seed. You smile up at him lazily, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit darlin’.” He huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your own. The bite of the water is no longer a thought as his warm body presses against yours.

“You warm now, cowboy?” You tease brushing your nose against this neck, pressing a kiss over his pulse point.

“Very.” He chuckles, “But I’d like to get my beautiful girl out of these waters now.” He says grabbing a handful of your ass before throwing you over his shoulder. “I ain’t done with you yet.”

455 notes · View notes

hidden-poet · 4 months

Text

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

Next chapter

When Dr Gaul suggested Coriolanus return to compete his officer training, he was mortified. But she had made a valid point about his presidential future.

A man who served his country was easier to sell than a spoilt rich boy who deserted his post.

She would bring him back for the lavish parties and important ceremonies to shake hands with the right people. They all told him what a fine young man he had become. Following his fathers footsteps, despite his down fall.

He would smile and tell them it was an honor to serve Panem. An honor to fill the shoes of Commander Hoff and restore order to district 12.

Commander Hoff had been killed by rebels. A bomb went off during a hanging, hidden under the floor boards and trigged by flex of the rope. Commander Hoff had been standing directly above it and left district 12 with a dire need for a leader.

Coriolanus had only started to settle back into capital life. Before he was torn from his riches and thrown back into the dirt.

He was still bitter about returning, but his opponent, Augustus Bloom, for the presidential run was highly well known, and a few years older then him. He was a well established business man, and Coriolanus still had a school boy image.

Still, as Dr Gaul reminded him, Augustus had only known the spoils of war. Which made him fine company for dinner, but for a leader of Panem people would be looking for a man who would not shrink in the face of violence. A man who kept the scum of the districts at bay.

When President Ravinstill finally breathed his last breath Panem would be looking for a new leader and Coriolanus wanted to be the only one they turned to. With Dr Gaul's help it was a possible goal.

The first thing he did as commander was out up a electric fence around the district so there was no chance of lucy-grey returning or her covey sneaking out to help her with supplies.

He ruled district 12 with a harsh fist. It was good practice for when he would rule Panem. He experimented with ways to control people. He found that the best way was the hardest.

Fear was a great oppressant but also a great motivator. He had to balance it with small pockets of relent. The tiger won't bite you if you don't pull it's tail.

Keep in line, and the Capital would provide for basic needs. Coriolanus knew first hand what people would turn into when their basic needs were not met. So feed them, clothe them, offer the occasional entertainment to distract them from their miserable existence.

It would keep the majority at bay. And for those who knew better than to be lulled into compliancy, cruelty would be unleased into the district. Food shipments cancelled, mandatory public executions, Peacekeepers given free rein to take what they liked and flog anyone who protested. The people of district 12 would grow to hate rebels.

However, his tyrannical rule left him isolated from his army. The men kept out of Coriolanus way. Even those directly below him offered no familiar way of talking.

Only in his weekly call with Tigress and Grandma'am could he talk about something other than strategy.

He took to walks on sunny days to break up his day between work and sleep. Most of the men in his camp had taken to the district looking for their fun. Coriolanus wasn't invited out.

So he walked around the facility. Weaving through the large buildings and metrically kept gardens.

He was just about to head back to his apartment and settle himself down with documents awaiting approval when he heard quite yelling and whispers coming from the prison windows.

It was located at the far end, hidden between a tall brick wall and link fence.

He pressed himself to the wall.

"here! Here!" he could hear the quiet demands.

A traitor was interfering with Capital business. Coriolanus would make sure this rebel would met a fate worse than those imprisoned.

He peaks from behind wall not to see a ill fed man who dreams bigger than his station but a women overcome with compassion.

You're standing up on your tippy toes on the prison cell window. A basket over your elbow while your hand clung to the cell bars to keep you up. You were passing oat squares from your basket to blind hungry hands.

You had an air of vulnerability about you. A doe eyed looked that invited predators. Come eat me you seemed to cry. Coriolanus planned to do exactly that.

he walks over, trending lightly so he made no noise and picked you up by the waist, putting you down on the ground.

You stilled underneath his touch, frozen from fear. You slowly turned to see who's chest was touching your shoulder to see Coriolanus, the Commander of district 12.

You looked like Tigress had during the war. A quite braveness about you shun in your eyes. A willingness to do anything to protect those who you held dear.

Coriolanus had wanted to invite you back to his office where he would offer you a drink, and inquire about you.

But you had taken off before he could part his lips. Ran back to the broken linked corner of the fence and pulled your body along the ground and through the metal. You had dropped your basket at his feet and he kicked it as he ran.

He chased after you, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back towards him.

"Wait!" he implored. Something about you drew him to you.

It could have been his desire to protect Tigress all those years ago. Tigress had looked after him all his life and he had a large debt that he only started to pay back. Part of him held on to the disgust that he had failed her for so many years. You had the same loyalty as her, he could tell. Perhaps you could play a role in healing history.

Or perhaps it was your evident kindness that he wanted to trap like a butterfly. District life here was cold and lonely. He longed to be looked after like he was back home. He was a great and powerful man but with no one dotting on him he felt no better than a lowly peacekeeper. At least they had each other. Commander Snow had no one but his reflection to boast praise upon him.

Maybe it was a mixture of the two.

Your cry out as the sharp metal dug into you as he pulled you back through it. It was enough for him to release you. If you were hurt that's all you would be able to focus on. For all one knows, it might be all he would be able to focus on.

He stood up and watched you flee in the distance until not even a shadow of you could be seen. He committed your image to his memory, picked up your basket and walked to the entrance of the prison where the clueless peacekeepers standing guard greeted him.

He sent two to fix the hole in the fence, and demanded one other to bring him the prisoners facing the west wall one by one.

Hours of interrogation later and Coriolanus gave up hope that one of the prisoners actually knew you.

Some could describe you from what they saw but that was no good to him. He already burned you into his brain.

----------

Instead he issued mandatory vaccines. Sections were given time allotments to avoid overcrowding so he didn't miss you amongst the people and secondly so he knew which part of town you resided in.

It must have been the outer part as it was late afternoon of standing between each line for Coriolanus before he could finally see you in line. He had taken to eaten the rest of the oat bars in the basket after a nightfall of interrogation. Sat at his dinning room table in nothing but his underwear and devoured the small bars.

With acknowledgement that your resources were limited, they were quite good. Even after he was full he kept eating, hating the idea that anyone but him would taste or touch your cooking. You cooked with love he could taste it.

It reminded him of Tigress fried potato. She would always leave the best pieces for him. He imaged you both would be good friend's. Bonding over Coriolanus.

Despite his romanticizing of you last night, he didn't move, choosing to act as if he had forgotten you.

You had not forgotten him. You kept your head down, wore different clothes than yesterday and a scarf covered your hair.

You didn't really have much of a choice. peacekeepers were searching each house and surrounding areas to ensure all members were present. You also needed your vaccine booklet stamped. One missing stamp meant serious trouble.

He tried not to be obvious as he watched you get your vaccine. you moved quicker then the rest, rushing to the back as soon as your book was stamped.

He reached under one of the covered desks to retrieve your basket and followed pursuit.

He followed you as you moved through the people. Several peacekeepers had been instructed to help herd the women Coriolanus followed into a nearby ally way.

You attempted to turn right through the buildings but a Peacekeeper appeared out of thin air. You retracted froward but a looming peacekeeper at the gate squared his body to you.

You took of running to the right were another peacekeeper pushed his way through the crowd to you. You turned back to see Coriolanus walking through parted people. You see the ally and make way for it.

The plan had worked perfectly, and he nodded to the Peacekeeper still making his way through the crowd to say your work is done.

He sees you banging against the gate he had locked, trying to shove it open.

He fiddled with basket under his hand. Rubbing his thumb up and down the threaded wood as he made his way towards you.

You turn around to face him upon hearing his footsteps. You weren't sure if you were backed into a corner or if your body moved itself.

"You forget your basket yesterday" he held it out towards you but you didn't accept it.

"It ain't mine" you reply. You eyes don't even look at it. Keeping them on your shoes.

"So if i was to arrest you until the DNA testing came back on it you wouldn't mind?". He could feel your body tense.

"There ain't no rule that we can't feed em'".

A confession so quickly. Yet you still refuse to look at him.

"There is a rule about associating with rebels".

He steps closer, his shoulders lean forward almost over you.

'i was just feeding. Not associating".

Coriolanus sucks his teeth. He would feel almost disappointed having given the basket back. He would like to keep a piece of you.

"I could hang you for this, or..."

Your eyes flick to his. There was a lightness in them that you weren’t expecting.

“Or we could keep this to ourselves” he leans in close to whisper. You could feel his soft breath on your cheek, “our little secret”.

He swings the basket just outside of your hand. You reach for it but he swings it back.

“It would make us partners in crime” he warns.

He was playing. His eyebrows raised in a playful way and a slight smirk played on his lips.

You didn’t share in this playfulness. Too many of your friends had been killed by peacekeepers to find any of them amusing.

“What do you want from me?” you ask. Your eyes still at his. He saw the same fire for survival as his.

Coriolanus steps back from you allowing some distance.

“I want to help you” he swings the basket into your hand, “will you let me?”

You don’t answer. Just yank the basket away from him and turned to run out back from the ally. Taking the opportunity of him being back from you.

You turn as you wedge yourself back into the steam of people to see Coriolanus watching you as you as you try and disappear.

You knew it wouldn’t be the last time you saw the Commander.

You run home with a peacekeeper tailing you. Or at least when the basket of food appeared on your doorstep the next morning that's what you assumed.

#coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tom blyth

570 notes · View notes

teatoptony · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐬 - p.j

summary; who knew life threatening situations made you reevaluate your love life?

pairing; percy jackson x demigod!fem!reader

word count; 7.5k

warning(s); mild mentions of injury, spoilers for ttc

a/n; i'm guessing you meant the titan's curse? i changed a few things, but i hope this was what you had in mind. if not, feel free to send another request :)

the ending is schist. sorry.

You were on a dark hillside, shrouded in fog. Wisps of haze stuck and clung to your hair and clothes like cat hair, refusing to come off even when you tried to brush it away. Up above, you couldn't see the sky—just a close, heavy darkness, as if you were in a cave. From every direction, the same amount of pressure pushed down on you, like you were hundreds of miles below sea level. The place felt more like a deep-sea cavern than anything.

You felt like you were suffocating.

Thorn was long gone, you could tell. The smell of his disgusting cologne was nowhere to be found. A good thing, you supposed, as it really was rather horrible. On the down side, though, that meant you were completely stranded alone in the middle of nowhere.

"Thorn!" You called. Your own voice made your head pound. Raising a hand up to the back of your head with much more effort than you would like to admit, you felt something warm and sticky matting your hair. You grimaced. "Where are you? Why did you bring me here?"

You waited a minute or two before deciding that you were, in fact, on your own. Standing up only to drop back down, you hissed as you clutched your leg. Looking down at your calf, you gagged. Where one of Thorn's spikes had nicked you, the skin around the cut had turned a greenish-purplish colour, the cut itself scabbing over in a yellow-brown-black mess. He'd said his poison only causes pain; infections were a whole different problem.

You struggled up the hill, trying to reach the top. Maybe you'd be able to see if anything was around here from up high, though you doubted there would be anything for miles around. As you climbed, you vaguely noticed old, broken Greek columns of black marble scattered around, as though something had blasted a huge building to ruins.

Climbing over a section of broken wall, you finally made it to the crest of the hill. What you saw made your heart drop into your shoes.

On the rocky ground lay a boy with messy black hair and a tattered orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. He was crumpled like a soda can, and he seemed to be in pain. The blackness seemed to be thicker around him, the fog swirling hungrily. Squinting your eyes, you could see his eyes screwed shut with the effort of.. well, you couldn't quite tell. Whatever it was, it seemed horrible.

"Percy?" You whispered in shock, making your way toward him. As you walked closer, the air grew thicker and thicker, almost buzzing with electricity and the smell of ozone.

Percy's eyes cracked open when he heard your voice. Then they were wide with panic and relief.

"Y/N!" He called. "Help me! Please!"

You ran forward until you were no more than a few inches away from where he was standing—well, 'standing' is a strong word.. 'trying extremely hard not to be flattened into a Percy pancake' would be more accurate, now that you properly saw the state he was in. His hands were propped up next to his shoulders in an odd manner, like he was trying to hold up something massive and invisible.

Panic jolted into your brain as you registered his words. You reached out to touch his face.. then stopped at the last minute. He looked off; you couldn't tell why. Icy little needles prickled at the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine.

"Please, it's killing me." He said again. You took a step back.

"What happened?" You asked warily. Seeing Percy like this broke your heart, but something just felt wrong.

"They left me here," Percy groaned. You could've sworn his eyes looked almost yellow as he squeezed them shut again. He seemed to be struggling against some invisible curse, as though the fog were squeezing him to death.

Studying him closely again, you shook your head. You were just about to take another couple steps back when Percy's knees buckled. He yelped in surprise and almost toppled, but regained his balance in the last second. His face paled.

In the scarce light, Thalia's pine tree glimmered a soft green hue on one of the beads on his camp necklace. There was no Golden Fleece hanging from its branches.

The darkness above him began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. You rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. You held it somehow—tons of rock. You kept it from collapsing on you and Percy just with your own strength. It was impossible. You shouldn't have been able to do that.

Just as the debris stopped falling, Percy rolled free, gasping. "Thanks." He managed. You clenched your jaw to steel yourself.

"Don't just lay there," you groaned.

Percy caught his breath. His face was covered in sweat and grime. He rose unsteadily.

Then, he flickered. Literally. His whole image flickered like the flame of a candle. You would've just brushed it off as something your brain made up from being put in such a stressful situation, but then it happened again. And again. Eventually, Percy flickered away..

..and Luke stood in his place.

"I knew I could count on you." He said, a crooked smirk twisting his face. He reached for his Camp Half-Blood necklace, and you realized there were glowing green runes etched onto every one of the six beads. Magic. Of course.

"Castellan." You spat, almost forgetting about the crushing weight on your shoulders as white-hot anger made your blood boil. "You prick."

"Nice to see you haven't changed," Luke said. He began to walk away as the trembling blackness threatened to pulverize you.

"Help. Me." You gritted your teeth. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. You knew it was no use; you were grasping at straws. But holding up literal tons of rock can make you do weird things.

"Oh, don't worry," Luke said. "Your help is on the way. It's all part of the plan. In the meantime, try not to die."

The ceiling of darkness began to crumble again, pushing you against the ground.

—

It's amazing how one perceives time when holding literal tons of stone.

At first, every second goes by agonizingly slow. Just when you think you're getting used to the weight, the ceiling cracks some more, piling more rocks on top of you until you're nearly squished like a bug. Once that cycle repeats a dozen or so times, you realize that a couple hours have passed, judging by the members of Kronos's army chatting amongst themselves while they stride by. You'd never been more relieved to hear dracanae making dinner plans.

Luke had said your 'help' was coming. You didn't know what poor soul was going to be trapped here next, but you couldn't help but hope they arrived quickly. As much as you didn't want anyone other than Luke to bear this weight, you were certain you'd die if they didn't. Maybe you could take turns once they arrived.

You were tired. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment. Your bones felt like they were on fire.

In front of you, a throne of black marble had been strategically placed in the shadows so that whoever was sitting on it wasn't really visible unless you got really close. Ugh, villains and their ambiance. It oddly resembled the chair from that one Lincoln statue, albeit a bit smaller in size. Fortunately, you were far enough away from it that you didn't have to look at the ugly face of whoever was on the throne.

Your eyes had been screwed shut for a while when you heard the clanking of chains drawing near. The sound scraped to a stop a couple feet in front of you. You peeled open your eyes to see what was about to go down.

A small girl with auburn hair was shoved forward by a meaty hand. She had chains of celestial bronze binding her hands and feet like some medieval prisoner. Her silvery dress was torn and tattered. Her face and arms were cut in several places, and she was bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods.

A goddess?

"How is our mortal guest?" A male voice boomed. Its force made the ground and the boulders on your shoulders vibrate. Your head pounded in protest. You'd compare it to a bass guitar, but that would be offensive to bass guitars.

Luke emerged from the shadows. He ran and knelt beside you, then looked back at the unseen man. "She's fading. We must hurry." You vaguely wished you could bite his hand off.

Hey, he's in range, just under the rocks.

You were tempted to just drop everything and let it crush everyone to death. You decided against it, only because of the goddess in chains. There was no way she'd be able to escape.

"You heard the boy," said the man in the shadows. "Decide!"

Shut up, you thought irritably. The world buzzed with every word he spoke, and you were not a fan of that.

The girl's eyes flashed with anger. You supposed she must have been either a minor goddess or extremely drained, because she didn't seem able to just will the chains to explode or make herself disappear. Maybe the chains prevented her, or some magic about this dark, horrible place.

The goddess looked at you, and her expression changed to concern and outrage. "How dare you torture a maiden like this!"

Maiden? You mused. The ceiling piled more boulders on you, and you almost crumpled, barely regaining your balance in time. Must be Artemis. You decided, groaning weakly. From what you recalled, Artemis was the protector of women. Besides, silver.

"She will die soon," Luke said. "You can save her."

Like you'd care.

"Free my hands," Artemis said.

Don't be stupid, you caught yourself thinking. You thanked the fact that the gods couldn't read minds. Well, most of them, anyway.

Luke strided over to her. He brought out his sword, Backbiter, and broke the goddess's handcuffs in one swift strike. You promised yourself you'd use the damn thing to stick him in the stomach if you ever got the chance.

Artemis ran over to you and took the burden from your shoulders. You collapsed on the ground like a pile of bones. You felt your spine creak as the pressure was taken off of it, and your limbs wouldn't stop trembling. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the bile from rising, but even that took so much effort.

The man in the shadows chuckled. "You are as predictable as you were easy to beat, Artemis." Oh, hey, you were right.

"You surprised me," Artemis said, straining under her burden. "It will not happen again."

"Indeed it will not," the man said. "Now you are out of the way for good! I knew you could not resist helping a young maiden. That is, after all, your specialty, my dear."

Your breathing grew more and more ragged with each word the man spoke. You felt something hot trickle down the back of your neck, leaving chills in its wake. Recalling your head wound from earlier, you grimaced. Had it not patched itself up? How much blood had you lost? Thinking about it made you dizzy.

Artemis groaned. "You know nothing of mercy, you swine."

"On that," the man said, "we can agree. Luke, you may kill the girl now."

Oh, you complete piece of–

Luke hesitated. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "She–she may yet be useful, sir.. Further bait."

"Bah! You truly believe that?"

"Yes, General. They will come for her. I'm sure."

The man considered. "Then the dracaenae can guard her here. Assuming she does not die from her injuries, you may keep her alive until winter solstice. After that, if our sacrifice goes as planned, her life will be meaningless. The lives of all mortals will be meaningless."

Luke gathered up your listless body and carried you away from the goddess. You would have stabbed him, but you weren't in any state to do much more than breathe, and even that was a bit of a struggle.

"You will never find the monster you seek," Artemis said. "Your plan will fail."

"How little you know, my young goddess," the man in the shadows said. "Even now, your darling attendants begin their quest to find you. They shall play directly into my hands. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a long journey to make. We must greet your Hunters and make sure their quest is… challenging."

A sudden surge of annoyance flooded your brain. It was always like this, wasn't it? The 'bad guy' knew everything while your friends had to wander, dealing with every freakshow that sprung up on the way. It wasn't fair.

The man's laughter echoed in the darkness, shaking the ground until it seemed the whole cavern ceiling would collapse. You suddenly sympathized with how Zeus must have felt when Athena was banging on his skull, demanding to be let out. It felt like you had a goddess trapped up there. You wished someone would take an axe to it. Not like anyone here would have much aversion to that.

Luke took you a little while away from where Artemis was. Among the ruins, there was a semi-intact room with about two or three walls, depending on how tall you considered a wall to be. He placed you with your back against one of them. You glared at him from where you sat.

"Don't look at me like that," he snapped.

"Rot in Tartarus." You replied. Surprisingly, your voice worked. It sounded like metal against metal, but it worked.

Luke rolled his eyes. Then, his expression softened, just a little. "The gods are using you," he said bitterly. You rolled your eyes. Not this again. "Do you honestly think they care what happens to you?"

"I don't give a flying fuck what the gods care about," you said. Luke raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. "I care about my friends. I care about my life. You know, all the things you used to have before you stabbed us in the back and ran away."

With a bit of effort, you turned your head and spat on the ground. "Coward." You muttered, your hand wiping your face to get rid of all the grime. It didn't do much other than smudge it, really. "Couldn't even face us after your little stunt."

You could tell he was just itching to draw his sword from the way his hand twitched. You smirked. He was just too easy to rile up.

"I could kill you, here and now." He threatened. Geez, his villain talk needed some work.

"Go for it." You said, turning your head to look him in the eye again. Seeing the scar under his right, you cursed whatever dragon had caused it for not taking out his entire eyeball. Luke's expression changed from anger to irritation as he took a step back.

"I don't have to deal with you right now.." He muttered, turning away and walking off. Half a dozen dracanae came up from behind you, four of them taking positions on your left, right, and center while the other two continuously slithered in circles around you.

"Turn tail and run," you jeered. It was quiet, but it was enough to make him hear you, from the looks of it. His posture stiffened as the words left your tongue, making him seem rather huffy as he marched out of sight.

When the top of Luke's head disappeared, you felt all the strength leave your body. Your need to poke and prod at him had been the only reason you'd even been able to talk, you were sure. Your eyelids felt heavier than the cave ceiling. It wouldn't hurt to just close them for a moment or two..

You slept like the dead.

—

Surprisingly, it wasn't all that long until Percy came around, simply because the days blended into one. The sun never rose here, which meant your biological clock was the only thing that told you what time it could possibly be. The dracanae assigned to be your guards—three batches of six, from what you could tell by some of their features—weren't really the chattiest of their kind.

Your head wound had turned crusty and gross during the time you were kept here. Your calf wasn't in much better condition. You were shivering most of the time, cold sweat drenching your clothes and making them feel uncomfortable and disgusting to be in. The world spun without any prompts now.

You were messing with your roughly once-a-day rations when Luke came to grab you. It was the first time you'd seen him since he left you here. He looked paler and weaker than the first time you'd seen him here, and that was impressive considering he had just gotten out of getting crushed to death back then. Even in your condition, you had no doubt you could have taken him if the guards weren't here. Maybe if you had your weapon...

Despite that, he had a smug smirk on his face that you would've loved to slap off.

"Get up," he ordered. You pointed at your tray.

"I'm not done with my slop." You replied. In truth, you'd never touch the stuff, maybe taking one or two glops out of it just to keep yourself alive before lobbing the rest at your guards.

Luke snapped his fingers at the dracanae. Two of them slid over to either side of you and harshly lifted you up by each of your arms. You let out a disgruntled groan. The slop you'd just choked down threatened to make a reappearance as everything turned blurry and twisty. You tried not to sway on your feet.

"I said, get. Up." He sneered. You made a face at him in return.

"Fine." You snapped. You pulled your arms out of the snake women's grasp, only for Luke to cuff your hands behind your back. You opened your mouth to complain, but he stuffed a gag in it. You felt like you were about to hurl. The thing tasted like sandpaper and mouldy gym socks.

He dragged you alongside him, walking—well, limping, in your case—downhill and circling the lower points before climbing his way back up. There, he joined half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos and a hulking man in a brown silk suit. You supposed this was the one who'd been sitting on the throne when Artemis was brought in. You waited for your vision to clear a bit before taking note of his appearance.

His skin was light brown, and his dark hair was slicked back in a (in your opinion) rather wet-dog-like fashion. He had a regal expression; a cold, proud look in his grey eyes, like a CEO who ran one of those huge companies that were responsible for the ice caps melting.

"My lady!" Someone cried at the top of the hill. The Hulk-man gestured with his hand for his forces to follow him up the hill. Ugh, villains and their grand entrances, too.

Luke pushed you forward as he unsheathed Backbiter. Once you reached the crest of the hill, he pointed the blade at your neck.

From here, you could see a small group of people who were definitely not a part of Kronos's army. There was Percy, Thalia, and another girl who was kneeling at Artemis's side. You grimaced. None of them looked like they were in much of a shape to fight. Especially the new girl—you could see the dark colour of blood soaking through her silvery clothes. The getup looked somewhat familiar.. where had you seen that before? Her skin, which you assumed under better circumstances would be a coppery brown, was slowly being bleached.

"Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." Artemis groaned. Her voice was strained. She was drenched in sweat. The ceiling threatened to pile more rocks on her as one or two new cracks appeared.

Despite the goddess's warning, the girl tugged stubbornly at her chains. Of course, they didn't budge. You could see she was trembling, but whether that was from the blood loss or from crying, you weren't too sure. She really needed a medic.

"Ah, how touching." Hulk-man said.

Points for a moderate opening line, I guess.

The three turned around. Percy and Thalia raised their weapons as New Girl opted to position herself between Artemis and Hulk-man. Ah, must be a Hunter. You'd seen the pamphlet Annabeth had.

Your eyes met Percy's as he scanned the crowd. When he took in what was going on, the look of anger that took over his features was like nothing you'd seen before on him. The boy looked just about ready to commit war crimes.

As touching as that was, all you wanted was for him to get the hell out of here. Hulk-man, as much as calling him that made him sound ridiculous, wasn't one to be taken lightly, you could tell.

"Luke," Thalia snarled. "Let her go."

Luke smiled thinly. "That is the General's decision, Thalia. But it's good to see you again." He said. Thalia looked like she was ready to murder him, which she probably was. Honestly, same.

Thalia spat at him. The gag stifled your laugh. Luke rolled his eyes and pressed the blade of his sword harder against your throat. You tried not to wince as it cut shallowly through your skin. You could just see Percy's grip tightening on Riptide.

Hulk-man—'The General', whatever—chuckled. "So much for old friends. And you, Zoë. It's been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you."

New Girl—whom you could only assume was Zoë—clenched her jaw. Her face was pale, and she didn't look like she was in a much better condition than Luke, which was saying something. Huh, she and the General looked kinda similar..

"Do not respond," Artemis groaned. "Do not challenge him."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "You're Atlas?"

Ah. Oh. Wait—what?

The General glanced at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."

"You're not going to hurt Zoë." Percy said. "I won't let you."

The General sneered. "You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter."

Percy frowned. "A family matter?"

"Yes," Zoë said bleakly. "Atlas is my father."

Percy's eyes flickered between Zoë and Atlas, taking in the new information. It was easy to see the family resemblance, even if one of them was an evil titan overlord and another was a Hunter of Artemis. His frown deepened as he made the same connections.

"Let Artemis go," Zoë demanded. She struggled to her feet, the look in her eyes so close yet so different from Atlas's.

Atlas walked closer to the chained goddess. "Perhaps you'd like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest."

No, no, no, no, no. You thought. Look at the state you're in. You'll die.

Zoë opened her mouth to speak, but Artemis said, "No! Do not offer, Zoë! I forbid you."

Atlas smirked. He knelt next to Artemis and tried to touch her face, but the goddess bit at him, almost taking off his fingers. Pity, if only he were slower.

"Hoo-hoo," Atlas chuckled. "You see, daughter? Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility."

Percy looked at you. Your eyes flickered between his and Zoë's bow. In situations like these, your philosophy was simple: first move, first kill. Whoever took the first shot was going to result the first casualty, and you hoped your friends were smart enough to know that by now.

Atlas was in a somewhat vulnerable position. If Zoë fired now, he'd have to take a second to stand. You bet it would take Luke by surprise, too. After all, if she was Atlas's daughter, she must be thousands of years old, with that much experience.

Take. A. Shot.

Percy just stood there, staring at you. His eyes lingered on the top of your head. Thalia muttered something to him that you didn't quite catch. Geez, was the wound really that bad? Could he even see it from there?

As if on cue, you stumbled, suddenly feeling like you were standing on a surfing board. You hissed weakly as the movement made Luke's sword slip across your neck. A trickle of blood slowly made its way down to your shirt.

"I don't understand," Percy said. His voice was slightly forced. "Why can't Artemis just let go of the sky?"

Atlas laughed. Ugh, shut up. The sound made your head pound even more than before. "How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape." Atlas smiled. "Unless someone else takes it from you."

He approached Percy and Thalia, studying them. His back was turned to Zoë. Take a shot. "So these are the best heroes of the age, eh? Not much of a challenge."

"Fight us," he said. "And let's see."

"Have the gods taught you nothing? An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. I will have Luke crush you instead."

Luke looks like he'd fall over if you looked at him too hard, you thought. Then you internally groaned at yourself for being held hostage by him in that state. Ugh, being helpless felt gross.

"So you're another coward," Percy said.

Atlas stiffened. You were sure he would've punched Percy straight in the head if he wasn't so prideful. With difficulty, he turned his attention to Thalia.

"As for you, daughter of Zeus, it seems Luke was wrong about you." He said smoothly, although you could hear the clear irritation in his voice.

"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that he somehow looked even worse than he did just a couple moments ago. Beads of sweat made their way down his forehead (ew), and he spoke every word as if it were painful. You thanked whatever was the reason for his pain. "Thalia, you can still join us. Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"

He waved his hand, and next to Thalia, a pool of water appeared: a pond ringed in black marble, big enough for a small seal. Percy took one look at it, then stared for a few moments like he was in a trance. He then shook his head a little and looked back at you with a rather stupid, blank look on his face. He looked like he'd broken his brain by thinking too hard, an expression you knew all too well from sitting next to him in English Lit.

"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke persisted. "And you will be more powerful than the gods."

"Luke…" Her voice was full of pain. "What happened to you?"

"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods? Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"

Like the Titans were going to be any better. Could he not see that he'd be dead as soon as Kronos rose to the throne?

Thalia shook her head. "Free Y/N. Let her go."

"If you join me," Luke promised, "it can be like old times. Annabeth will see our side eventually. The three of us together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree…"

His voice faltered. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."

Okay, so maybe he did realize his life was in danger here. You weren't sure what he meant, but the fear in his voice sounded real enough. For one reason or another, his life depended on Thalia's joining his cause. You, for one, couldn't bring yourself to care about him after everything he'd done. You were afraid Thalia might, though.

"Do not, Thalia," Zoë warned. "We must fight them."

Luke waved his hand again, and a fire appeared. A bronze brazier, just like the one at camp. A sacrificial flame.

"Thalia," Percy said. "No."

You held your breath. Whatever they were talking about, it was clear you were out of the loop. But one thing was for sure—Luke, and by extension Kronos, desperately wanted Thalia to summon this Ophiotaurus thing, which meant you had to hope desperately that she wouldn't.

Behind you, a quiet, high-pitched humming noise grew louder as the air grew warmer. You saw a golden light cast on the boulders, presumably from Kronos's sarcophagus. As it did, you saw images in the mist all around you: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful palace rising around you, made of fear and shadow.

"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promised, in a voice so strained it was hardly his. "Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."

Debatable.

He pointed toward the ocean, and Percy's expression turned into one of slight horror. With the whole being held at swordpoint and all, you couldn't look at whatever it was he was so afraid of, but it must have been horrible if it scared Percy like that.

"This is only a taste of what is to come," Luke said. "Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood. And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help."

For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitated. She gazed at Luke, her eyes full of pain, as if the only thing she wanted in the world was to believe him. Then she leveled her spear. "You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore."

"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleaded. "Please. Don't make me… Don't make him destroy you."

Percy looked back at you. You nodded slightly, hoping he'd get the message already. He then looked to Thalia and Zoë, as if he were steeling himself for the fight to come.

"Now," he said.

Together, they charged.

Thalia went straight for Luke. The hideous face of Medusa glared at you as she ran, making you stand frozen in fear. Behind you, you heard panicked hissing and a loud thump as the dracanae ran away.

Despite his sickly appearance, Luke was still quick with his sword. He snarled like a wild animal and counterattacked. When his sword, Backbiter, met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, frying the air with yellow tendrils of power.

As Backbiter left your throat, you did the least heroic thing you could think of.

You ran.

Tucking yourself behind a large boulder, you tried to wait out the battle. In your current state, you'd be a liability rather than an asset. From this new position, you could see wave after wave of monsters marching from the Princess Andromeda and up the mountain.

You hated that you could do nothing but hope that your friends would make it out alive. Preferably before the army reached the top.

"Die, little hero," Atlas said. You had a feeling he was talking about Percy. Your heart dropped a hundred miles below.

Screw this. You had to do something. Now.

Finding a jagged spot in the boulder you were hiding behind, you maneuvered yourself into a position where you could somehow strike your hands downward and theoretically break your cuffs on the rock. Assuming they weren't made of celestial bronze, that is. After about three tries and one painful miscalculation, the chain finally broke, and you ripped the gag from your mouth, spitting to get rid of the taste.

When you peered around the boulder, the fight was complete mayhem. There was Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fought. And a blur of silver—Artemis?

She had two wicked hunting knives, each as long as her arm, and she slashed wildly at the Titan, dodging and leaping with unbelievable grace. She seemed to change form as she maneuvered. She was a tiger, a gazelle, a bear, a falcon. Or perhaps that was just your fevered brain.

Zoë shot arrows at her father, aiming for the chinks in his armor. He roared in pain each time one found its mark, but they affected him like bee stings. He just got madder and kept fighting.

Wait, if Artemis was out fighting...

Who was holding the sky?

Where was Percy?

Looking over to the dreaded spot, you saw Percy trying not to get crushed under the weight of the sky. His eyes were screwed shut, concentrating on anything and everything but the burden on his shoulders. Right before your eyes, you could've sworn a lock of his hair was turning grey.

Oh, hell no.

Not really thinking, you streaked across the battlefield with surprising speed. Rolling under arrows and narrowly avoiding Atlas's javeline once, you reached Percy, who was about to pass out. You rolled under the boulders—which you now saw were actually dark, heavy clouds—and braced yourself on your good leg, kneeling down. Reaching up with your hands, you took the sky once again.

Every cell in your body screamed in protest. The pounding in your head was worse than what Zeus felt in Athena's origin story; you were sure of it. You felt like the vertebrae in your spine were being welded together by a blowtorch.

Fortunately, though, two people holding the sky was evidently easier than doing it alone.

"What the–" You vaguely heard Percy say. He was cut off by a blood-curdling scream. You managed to open your eyes and saw Zoë leap between her father and Artemis, shooting an arrow straight into the Titan's forehead, where it lodged like a unicorn's horn. Atlas bellowed in rage. He swept aside his daughter with the back of his hand, sending her flying into the black rocks.

"Zoë!" Percy shouted. He looked frantically between you and the direction she flew. As much as he wanted to go help her, he didn't try to move, afraid you wouldn't be able to handle the full burden of the sky.

The cold weight of dread settled in your stomach. Zoë didn't get back up.

Then Atlas turned on Artemis with a look of triumph on his face.

Artemis seemed to be wounded. She didn't get up.

"The first blood in a new war," Atlas gloated. And he stabbed downward.

Just then, a voice spoke in your head. Get ready, Artemis told you. You realized she was leading Atlas closer to where you knelt. With great difficulty, you turned your head to meet Percy's eyes. You could tell Artemis had told him the same thing.

"Go." You said, your voice strained. You tried to tell him the goddess's plan, but your voice wouldn't work anymore, so instead you looked frantically between Atlas and the sky. Percy hesitated for a split second before ducking and rolling out from under the clouds.

As fast as thought, Artemis grabbed Atlas's javelin shaft. It hit the earth right next to her and she pulled backward, using the javelin like a lever, kicking the Titan Lord and sending him flying over her.

You saw him coming down on top of you, and you loosened your grip on the sky. And as Atlas slammed into you, you didn't try to hold on. You let yourself be pushed out of the way and rolled for all you were worth.

The weight of the sky dropped onto Atlas's back, almost smashing him flat until he managed to get to his knees, struggling to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it was too late.

"Noooooo!" He bellowed so hard it shook the mountain. "Not again!"

Atlas was trapped under his old burden.

As for you, you didn't try to stand. Odd as it was, you could feel no part of your body and every single atom at the same time. You felt like you were literally burning up. Your head felt like someone was taking a dull axe to it over, and over, and over. Your leg felt like it was poisoned all over again.

After that, you don't remember much else. Hard to when you're unconscious.

—

Things were kinda hazy after that. You faintly remember waking up on a marble floor, a good-looking guy with a perfect tan and gold curls leaning over you. You thought it was Will, but this guy looked a lot older, and more golden, somehow.

"There you go, kid," he said, smiling widely at someone next to you. His teeth were so white, you were surprised it didn't make your head hurt worse. Wait.. did it even hurt at all? "God of medicine, at your service."

"Thanks." You heard Percy's voice mutter. He sounded relieved, but there was a bit of a point to his tone. Golden Guy—Apollo, you assumed—smirked knowingly and stood up, teleporting out of sight.

"Now for the Ophiotaurus," a voice said. Maybe Artemis. You fell asleep before you could hear much more of the conversation.

—

The next time you woke up, it lasted a lot longer. The familiar scent of the infirmary prompted you to open your eyes. When you did, the sight made you let out a breathless laugh. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting warm sunlight in patterns across the white sheets of the bed. On the windowsill, a small collection of potted plants sprouted soft green shoots.

When you tried to move your hand, you found that a slight weight held it down. Someone took a sharp breath, and their fingers tightened around your hand.

"Oh, you're awake." Percy said. You sat up. His face looked a mess. A couple scars here and there and some bruises (all covered in some sort of balm), plus dark circles like he hadn't had a proper sleep in days. His shoulders sagged as he scanned yours. "Thank the gods."

You must have looked confused, because he straightened up and started explaining everything that had happened at the mountain, then at Olympus. Mr. Chase was, surprisingly, not that bad. Something about Artemis's Santa Claus sleigh. Zoë had passed on. Apparently, you were an expert pegasus rider in your sleep. Golden Guy was, in fact, Apollo—though Percy seemed a bit miffed when you called him that—and was the one who had healed you before you came back to Camp. Will had still insisted you stayed in the infirmary for a day or two so that he could check on you to make sure you were alright.

"You really had me scared, you know?" He said, his cheeks growing red. "You were so dumb, taking the sky when you were like that. I had it."

"Yeah, sure you did, Ariel." You snorted. Then you squinted at him. "Your hair's grey," you informed.

"So's yours," Percy rolled his eyes. "Dude, I was scared you were gonna die on me, and the first thing you say is that my hair's grey?"

"Well it is," you simply said. He let out an exasperated sigh, and you put a finger on his forehead to push his head up. "You didn't have anything to worry about. Not gonna get rid of me that easily, Jackson."

He laughed, but then trailed off. He fiddled with your fingers a bit. You felt your ears grow warm as you realized he was still holding your hand.

"Seriously though... I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you were gone because I let you take all of it. The sky."

"Yeah, well, I'm still here." You said softly. He smiled a little.

He took a breath, then paused, as if deciding whether or not to say what he was thinking out loud. "You know why I was so scared?"

"Because you thought your best friend was about to die?"

"No." He said. Then he quickly backtracked, "well, yeah, but not just that. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to tell you..."

He took another breath.

"I like you. Like, like-like you. A lot, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your face flushed as his sea green eyes met yours, suddenly very interested in the linen sheets of your cot.

"I've been in love with you since we were kids," Percy chuckled. "I used to make my mom pick out my clothes when we went to your place so that I'd look good."

If your face wasn't red before, it certainly was now. You grabbed Percy's hand in yours a little tighter and laughed. "You know, I used to make you watch all those Disney movies so that you'd kinda get the hint that I liked you," you mused. Percy perked up. "All the girl-gets-the-guy stuff. Now I kinda figure, I should've made you play Barbie and Ken with me instead."

"What, make me Ken?"

"Nah. You'd be Barbie." You laughed at his expression. He huffed as if he found the idea nuts. "I'd be Ken. We'd be married, maybe have a horse."

"A horse?"

"Hey, I lost all the tiny Barbie puppies!"

"Well," he chuckled. You could've sworn his eyes sparkled. "In that case, you'll be happy to know, since we were kids, I planned to marry you someday."

"Oh yeah?" He hummed in confirmation. "What did it look like?"

"I dunno. Like the first thing that pops up when you type 'wedding' on Google."

"Wow. Way to be generic, Perce." You deadpanned. He punched your arm lightly.

"Hey, I was like six!" He said defensively.

A light quiet settled over the two of you as you looked down, avoiding Percy's expectant stare and fiddling with his fingers instead. He had that stupid grin on his face, which you'd come to adore over the years you'd known him.

"So..what now?" You asked, slowly lifting your gaze to meet his. His face flushed, and this time, it was he who turned away. He muttered something under his breath—a prayer?—and looked back at you. He looked like he wanted to run away.

"D'you want to go to the fireworks with me? Like, as a date?" He asked. You giggled.

"That's like, six months away." You laughed. He shrugged.

"Yeah. I need six months to get ready, obviously." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, obviously. My bad." You held back your laughter long enough to accept. "I'd love to go with you."

Percy was just about to say more when Will burst out of the 'doctor's office'. The boy stood up so suddenly that he almost knocked his chair over. Will walked over and shooed Percy away.

"Yeah, yeah, we all like each other. Can you please let me work now?" He said, and Percy's ears burned bright red. He muttered a quick see you later and practically ran out of the infirmary.

"We thought he'd never tell you," Will commented, checking the back of your head.

"We?"

"Uh, probably, what, half the camp? Maybe more," he said absentmindedly. Giving you a once-over, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. "Dad did a good job on you."

He gave you the go-ahead a minute or two later. As you walked out the door, you saw Percy talking animatedly to Annabeth near the volleyball court, his back towards you. The blonde had an amused smile on her face, and when she noticed you, she put her hands on Percy's shoulders and spun him around. Catching your eye, the boy gave you a small wave and a smile. You waved back, a grin of your own on your lips.

With his slight blush and bright eyes, it was hard to believe a doomsday prophecy was in his hands.

The end of the world never felt so far away.

#percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson books #pjo imagine #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n

2K notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

Note

What do you think about some headcannons of a curious Astarion intrigued by Tav’s skincare routine ? :3

This is a funny request, to be honest, but who I am not to explore the topic of body image issues and curses that can fuck up the person's skin in a fantasy setting?

TW: Scars left by physical abuse

Astarion x Tav Who Has to Cover Her Face

Masterlist

Headcanons

Many years ago, you were unlucky to piss off a man who studied necromancy.

He was arrogant and cruel and didn't understand that "no" is a "no".

For your resistance, he mutilated you.

Attacking you with a spell causing necrotic damage.

The half of your face and the right side of your neck look burnt.

You also lost the right eye.

"Once you realize no one will ever want you to feel free to crawl to my bed" he wished you.

Well, you can't punish a necromancer, who was born into a noble family.

You ran away from home.

As far as possible.

You were many things. A beggar, a thief - you did many things to survive.

With time, you learn how to hide your face.

First of all, healing ointments can at least repair some damage.

It's still awful but more bearable.

And blessed be the circus people and spies to invent disguise kits!

It takes ages to apply the make-up, but in the end, you look as if nothing happened.

Life in the camp boosts your anxiety.

What if someone sees you?

And you have to get up really early to make your face look at least decent.

Astarion doesn't pay much thought to it. You like wearing make-up. So what?

One day, he shows up at your tent unannounced (finally feeling comfortable enough around you)

While you are unprepared.

You immediately cover your face, demanding him to leave.

Astarion is taken aback by your reaction, but something tells him something is wrong.

"My sweet, can I take a look?"

You shake your head. No. No one is supposed to see you like that.

But he grabs your hands and pulls them away.

You expect disgust but instead, his eyes glow with anger.

"Who the fuck did this to you?!"

"Who". He knows it was done deliberately.

You tell him everything. About harassment. Lewd words. Pain.

He caresses your mutilated cheek and kisses you.

You spend the rest of the morning crying in his hands.

Astarion doesn't pretend that your face looks "normal".

But he isn't averted by it.

He helps you to apply make-up in the morning and wash your face in the evening.

Sometimes people get rude around you, and Astarion beats the shit out of them (usually demanding apologies).

Astarion also takes care of your prosthetic eye. His rogue hands can deal with the mechanisms much better than you.

When having sex, you notice he always looks directly at you, never trying to close his eyes.

You feel loved. You feel desired. You feel beautiful.

And you feel safe.

If at any time in the future that abuser decides he can't wait anymore and tries to take you by force, he will have to fight someone immune to any form of necrotic damage.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

356 notes · View notes

thekissofaphrodite · 1 month

Note

Could you please do Clarisse La Rue X female reader, where the reader is a daughter of Hephaestus and they offer to try and fix, and possibly improve, her broken spear?

THIS IS SO FUN TO MAKE!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING <33

Smudge

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hephaestus!reader

Summary: Fixing a damaged spear and a molten heart.

Warnings: Lovesick Clarisse (+kissing) Language 🫢

Author's Note: I wrote this while there's a literal program going on in my school, I'm shameless 😶

——

There was an eerie and an uncomfortable silence in the Ares Cabin. Apparently, Capture the flag this day didn't go well. Hence, Clarisse La Rue terrorized her siblings, snapping at them and most probably WILL strangling them to death. But one of her siblings finally opened their mouth and said something worth hearing; "I heard The Hephaestus Cabin can take damages like that, You'll have to pay five extra drachmas though"

Despite the disagreement and feud between those two cabins because of their fathers, Clarisse never got her wallet out so fast and ran towards Cabin 9, clutching the remains of her broken spear in hand.

The Workshop-like cabin was in the distance, There was a small queue of campers, waiting for their armours and weapons that they commissioned and repaired.

Clarisse, Being the arrogant, Daughter of the high tempered war God, pushed those campers away, earning groans and nasty side-eyes.

The first person clarisse saw was you, Forging a bronze shield with a hot iron. Your hair held by a huge claw clip in a bun, A brown leather apron was tied on your waist and neck, There was a bead of sweat that rolled down your from forehead to your cheeks, using the back of your hands, you wiped your cheeks, a smudge of charcoal appeared on your cheeks, But you kept going, Unaware.

Clarisse stood there awkwardly, waiting for you to look up and notice her, but you seemed pre-occupied, Just as she was about to clear her throat, Your halfbrother crossed his arms in the table next to you, glaring at Clarisse.

"Oi, La Rue! Gonna stand there like a damn statue? My sister ain't got all day" Your brother addressing Clarisse with his heavy southern accent caught your attention, You looked up at her before dismissing your brother away.

"I got it, Devon. Besides, I'm almost done here, I can take her in"

Your brother's eyebrows furrowed.

"Look, Sis, you've been forging all day since 6 AM, Your wrists are gonna fall off any second"

You laughed.

"I'm pretty sure dad's not gonna let that happen, And...I think I can see Mila peeking over there"

The mention of your brother's girlfriend made him blush madly, Near the entrance, a pale girl with freckles and light brown hair wearing a jumper over her orange camp halfblood shirt was waving at your brother excitedly while holding a small punett basket full of strawberries.

He then rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself, bringing his girlfriend into his arms.

It was now only you and clarisse inside the workshop , there was a moment of silence before clarisse broke it by placing her damaged spear on your table that made a loud clattering noise.

"Are you able to fix this?" Her voice cracked a little, you felt pity as you examined her spear. Clarisse looked up at you, there was a glint of hope in her eyes.

"It looks repairable, But the electricity.. I'm not sure, It's not going to be that electric, How did this happen anyway?"

Clarissed frowned.

"Jackson"

You stared at her in disbelief.

"That twelve yearold boy did this?"

"Yes— Why does that matter? He's a brat, if I could just snap his neck into two—"

"Hey," you whispered.

"He's just a kid, Let him be. I'm sure I'll get this done in no time." Comfort and reassurance lacing your voice, as you held her hand gently.

You could've sworn you saw Clarisse La Rue blush at the contact.

"So...Are you free?" Clarisse said all of a sudden, It was probably the most cheesiest way of saying 'Will you go out with me' But you won't complain, It's Clarisse.

There was a hint of playfulness in your voice as you responded "Are you asking me out?" Arms folded on your chest as you stared at her in amusement. The Ares girl blushed once more and rubbed the back of her neck, It was almost an unbelievable sight that THE Clarisse La Rue was blushing and acting flustered in front of someone, she mostly acts brute and mean, like totally mean to the point that if she was spotted in a crowd, people would part way.

"Isn't it obvious?"

You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"I'd love to"

Clarisse La Rue was screaming on the inside, but still, she kept a neutral expression, her eyes darting for her spear to yours.

"Great! I- uh... I'll come back tomorrow"

"For me or the spear?"

"Both"

——

The Ares cabin was peace and quiet in the morning, with Clarisse's siblings snoring away, the sun rising from the horizon signalling Apollo's coming, and birds singing softly.

Clarisse never thought she'd be like this, up early in the morning just to get a glimpse of a girl. Her whole life, she devoted herself to making her father proud, training every single day until her limbs went numb, fingers calloused and body sore, yearning for a single praise from her father. But it did. It worked, He gifted her a spear, an electric spear that she deeply treasured, the same spear that broken by that pathetic newbie.

You were her only hope.

So she sneaked out quietly, Carefully trying not to wake her sleep deprived siblings.

each footstep she took towards your cabin made her extremely nervous, but she kept her composure and held her head high like a true daughter of Ares.

Once she reached the entrance, her hands found the door knob and carefully twisted it, Letting it open, She saw you again, But this time you were sleeping peacefully on your work table, dust covered your face while her spear was placed in front of you, good as new with a red ribbon tied to the handle.

You must've pulled up a whole nighter.

She was caught off guard when you slowly started to steer from your sleep, moving uncomfortably.

Clarisse didn't know what to do, so she watched you carefully while you tried to process the world, still dowsy. You saw Clarisse and almost screamed.

"HOLY SHIT— CLARISSE?!" You yell a little too loud because you heard a loud yet distant 'SHUT UP!' coming from your siblings' room.

She just stood there, grinning shyly.

"I'm too early, am I?"

Your eyes found the clock up in the wall that read; 4:36.

"Way too early..."

You looked at Clarisse, then the spear on your table, Sighing.

"..and this was meant to be a surprise"

Clarisse chuckled.

"The spear is the least of my problems, I came here to see you"

Silence

"Me?"

"Yes, you...Do you wanna watch the sunrise?" Clarisse asked, carefully watching your expression, her cheeks flushed with red.

Sunrise?

You love sunrises..

"You didn't have to say it twice." Quickly grabbing your scarf, you held Clarisse's hand towards the fields.

The walk was long and quiet, with only you and Clarisse's breathing, and your boots crunching on the moist grass beneath it.

Once you two reached the small hill, you sat down and leaned back, Clarisse did the same. The sun was slowly rising, signalling Apollo and Aurora's arrival.

"Sorry for the unannounced intrusion earlier, I—"

"You couldn't wait to see me?" You chuckled softly.

Clarisse blushed again.

"Yes, That.." She couldn't admit that it was a little embarrassing admitting that she missed you.

But she missed more than you.

She missed your smile, She missed the way your vanilla perfume mixed with the copper and iron inside you and your siblings' forge, creating an irresistibly intoxicating smell. She missed the way your brows knit together while you focus intensely on hammering out a sword into shape, she missed the way your baby hairs stick on your sweaty forehead, she missed the way your apron wrapped perfectly around your body, bringing out your figure.

She missed everything about you.

You two were engulfed in a comfortable silence, with birds chirping and the trees swaying softly. she turned to you, but before she could speak, she noticed the smudge of charcoal on your cheeks from yesterday, it was a little faded, but still pretty visible.

so acting in her instinct, she moved closer to you and brought her hands on your cheeks, you were a bit startled, watching her wipe your cheeks softly as if tho you were the most delicate porcelain doll.

"Clarisse— What are you—" when she pulled her hand away, you saw a dark smear on her fingers, realization suddenly hit you, you embarrassingly looked away and tried to wipe the mess itself, but Clarisse's hands pushed yours away.

Her palm was now cupping your cheeks, and your gaze fix upon her.

Your heartbeat started beating faster, so did hers.

Clarisse didn't know what made her feel this way towards you, maybe Eros was spying on her and shot her an arrow, maybe Aphrodite was playing games because this was an alluring feeling that she had never felt before towards any person, Yeah, maybe she had a relationship with Silena Beauregard, but it was out of loneliness, Silena needed someone before she even met Beckendorf, and Clarisse needed someone before she met you.

You were the one that brought light to her day, the one that encouraged her to wake up every morning every time she felt little to no enthusiasm.

and now here you are, inches away from her lips while the sun rises.

It wasn't long before her lips touched yours, a burning and a twisting feeling inside your stomach along with butterflies erupted in you. She pulled you closer by wrapping her muscular arm around you waist. Her lips moved in sync against yours, your calloused fingers found her hair as you ran your fingers through it.

And it was pretty much the best sunrise kiss ever.

A/N

HELLO! I'm back with my first request from my inbox! I do hope you guys like this, i know it's been a month since i disappeared but fear no more— I will empty my inbox first before re-opening my requests! SO...STAY TUNED! ANY REQUEST I MIGHT POST MIGHT BE YOURS!

#percy jackon and the olympians #thekissofaphrodite #clarisse la rue x reader #dior goodjohn #xy/n #percy jackson #lovers #wlw

341 notes · View notes

4ft10tvlandfangirl · 6 months

Text

Maybe it's because I work in healthcare and I remember vividly during the worst of covid when all medical facilities were under strain, when there were no more beds, no more oxygen & patients were dying while waiting to be seen or admitted that my heart is breaking imagining what its like in the hospitals of Gaza running out of resources.

Add the fact that they are working through constant bombardment and airstrikes, treating horrific amputations and burn injuries with little to no electricity now and no anesthesia. Add the fact that the medics & doctors are seeing their own families brought in terribly injured or dead. They're getting calls while on duty that their families were killed and its suspected they were specifically targeted.

You could tell me the doorway to hell was under these hospitals/schools/mosques/churches/refugee camps and I promise it wouldn't change how I feel about this. Attacking these places filled with innocent civilians is wrong. How can people see the images and footage I'm seeing and say well, if bombing the entire Gaza Strip gets rid of Hamas then the end justifies the means? It can't! The cost of human life is too high! And that's without even accounting for the propaganda and lies in the mix.

Like many above a certain age I watched the events of 9/11 unfold and a lot of us in the global south actually mourned with the American people. And like the American people we too were swayed by the media's lies so we just silently watched the invasion into Iraq and Afghanistan only for the lies to come out years later. 20 years bombing the hell out of those countries and slaughtering the people indiscriminately and it didn't get rid of the Taliban or other terrorist groups. But I bet it helped to radicalise more to their cause.

Israel is using the same playbook and none should be surprised if the result is the same, if any Palestinian children of today become the Hamas of tomorrow after what they've suffered. I don't support Hamas but I can understand why they would continue to exist and why they might get willing support. And even if Hamas is all that the media says they are, it still wouldn't justify the collective punishment being meted out to the Palestinian people. Killing 8 times the amount of people you lost isn't justice!

I genuinely can't understand how so many can't see that. That there are people celebrating this large loss of life.

I do feel some hope that there are so many rallying behind Palestine, that many are trying to learn more and speak out and that in seeking out information about this, many of us have also learned more about other injustices like in DR Congo & Sudan. But I'm also deeply troubled by the lack of empathy I'm seeing and the cruelty being exalted. I'm angry that the so-called leaders of the free world are letting this happen.

I'm gonna keep talking and sharing what I can and I hope those of you who feel similarly do as well. Keep calling for the protection of hospitals as they work to save lives. Keep calling for a ceasefire to stop the bloodshed and so aid may be let in unhindered. Don't stay silent in the face of genocide. Free Palestine 🇵🇸

#social justice #gaza #palestine #vent post #gaza under attack #free gaza #free palestine #free west bank #pray for palestine #current events #indonesian hospital #al quds hospital #al shifa hospital #anti genocide #genocide

366 notes · View notes

jnkgrnde · 4 months

Text

— closer, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — in which, clarisse la rue can’t get enough of you, no matter how much you set her off. loosely based off of closer by RM. (media from princemick !)

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

authors note — first pjo fic.. kinda nervous 🫣 here’s my new years gift for the lack of posting 😭

clarisse la rue.

whether you feared her, hated her, were intimidated by her, you knew her name if you resided in camp half-blood. she was the infamous daughter of ares, god of war. if she didn’t scare you by her demeanor alone, then she had that status and her electric spear to back it up.

and then there was you.

you were a poseidon kid, claimed early, then got thrown into the poseidon cabin to fend for yourself. it felt lonesome at times, but getting along with people like luke and annabeth helped. it was also nice having a cabin to yourself, free to decorate it however you liked!

people thought you were pretty chill, a little scary with how you come along with your powers and whatnot, but overall you were a fun person to be around.

except when you were around clarisse. you definitely got under her skin, whether she liked it or not (she was starting to).

you were quick with your comebacks whenever she had something to say, which got snickers from her siblings around her, you were good with a blade, good in war games, good in almost everything she was.

did it get to her? yes. but did she find it attractive? also yes.

you could hold your own and your friends if it came down to it, and as a daughter of ares, she found that attractive.

that was all up until percy jackson came.

did you know you had siblings somewhere? yes, but you didn’t expect one to actually make it here, much less alive, but here we were. you were a couple years older than percy you found out. his mom had died on his way here with grover, another friend of yours. all he really wanted to do was find out who his father was and why all this was happening.

you felt protective of him, and that meant feeling protective of him against clarisse.

he didn’t know but you could tell he was a son of poseidon, your brother. you felt inclined to guide him until he found his way around and got used to what his life was now.

flash forward to the day after he arrived. he was already gaining some popularity around camp because of his encounter with the minotaur. in the morning you met up with him and luke, telling him about how the day after was capture the flag day.

you were walking until a familiar brunette came into view, knocking into percy. you snapped your head towards her just as she pushed him into the dirt. “hey, clarisse, back up.” you stepped closer to her. she looked at you, and for a moment your heart skipped a beat.

when had she been so pretty?

you two ‘glared’ (admired) at eachother for a moment before she turned to percy. “so this is the kid who killed the minotaur?” you looked at percy and he locked eyes for a quick second before looking back at clarisse. he looked scared but used to it, like he’d been bullied all his life.

“you want attention around here, dummy? you better be ready for it when it comes.” she jumped at him to scare him, then left laughing, not before making eye contact with you once more.

“well, she seems nice.” percy commented. “don’t worry about her. she just has this image to keep up. she’ll leave you alone soon, i’m sure.” you told him.

did you know that? no, but you didn’t want him to have to deal with anything yet.

“why don’t people mess with you?” percy asked you and luke. “they know better. best swordsman in over a century and she can drown people if she wanted.” luke explained with a smirk.

it was later in the day. the sun was still up, it was warm out, and the smell of the strawberry fields graced you. you were practing with your main weapon of choice. grunts rang in the air as you practiced on your dummy.

it was empty, which was just what you needed to blow off some steam. at least, it was empty until clarisse walked over. “you’re doing it wrong.” you didn’t face her, choosing to ignore her. you continued until a hand gripped your wrist.

“you ignoring me now?” just you ignoring her started her off wrong. she wanted you to pay attention to her. “do you need something?” you hissed at her. “i was talking to you. your forms off.” “mkay. thanks.” you went to go back to the dummy before she placed a hand on your waist to turn you back around. “you realize that could get you killed right?” she scolded. you stared at each other until she realized where her hand was and took it off like you were a hot pan burning her.

you mulled over the interaction; your waist felt tingly- you felt tingly. she was just so pretty and she was starting to make you nervous, but you had to do something.

“you willing to correct it then? since you feel like you need to comment on it.” you remarked.

this is what got her going.

you always having something quick to say, getting under her skin but in the right way.

she smirked, canines showing a little. it had your heart racing.

she went over to the dummy with a dagger that was on standby, and showed you a technique she used. “like that.” she moved to go behind you and gripped your waist again. “what are you doing?”

“relax, i’m moving you into a stance.” she told you.

was she half lying? well, sorta kinda. she was moving you, but she just wanted to be closer to you.

she adjusted your stance, then moved back and allowed you to practice. “just like that.” she told you.

“why are you helping me?” clarisse shrugged. “got bored.” “you sure you just didn’t wanna be near me?” you jokingly asked.

“maybe i did, maybe i didn’t.”

she did. she just wanted to be closer to you.

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #clarisse pjo #percy jackson fic #pjo fanfic

729 notes · View notes

junowritings · 5 months

Note

Hello ☺️💚

I hope I can request something, if they are closed please feel free to delete this 🌺🌺

I absolutely I adored your NRC amnesiac MC story with the dorms and would love to see more. It just hit all the tropes I love so much and adore.

Maybe with the rest of the dorms? As scenarios?? Or imagines?? (Honestly I’m a confused when it comes to those terms, so whichever is easier for you)

With pomefiore, ignihyde, and diasomnia? I feel like Vil is going to take one look at mc and go “okay, time to take care of another potato” but lovingly, ignihyde is going ortho is “I have another sibling” and gosh diasomnia is practically family and lilia is going “time to adopt another one 👏👏”

I just found the idea so so cute, but feel free to do whatever you want ☺️🌺

Right so first off I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THE ORIGINAL ONE!!! Also thank you so much for all the kind comments that you leave on my post I see every single one and it still makes my day to re-read them!

But also GOD I love this idea too and I got way too carried away with this. There's a lot of TWST I gotta catch up on (haven't been able to start chapter 7 yet) so I had to work with what I've got in terms of knowledge of Diasomnia.

I hope this was well worth the wait~! (OG scenario here btw)

Pomefiore

♡ Time passes at Night Raven College, and life continues to move on, as it always has. It’s been months without a single shred of your memories resurfacing, and with no sign of anything returning anytime soon the attention has turned from your past, to your present. Your memory loss has become a simple fact of life at this point, a reality that you had to put on the back burner with everything else that had happened since your arrival and during the winter holidays. You’re thankful that the needless prodding seems to have died down by the time that students start returning back to the school and classes resume. Things return to the only sense of normalcy you’ve ever known, and you think you can get used to this without another incident.

♡ Until VDC happens.

♡ Ramshackle is the only place you have to call home, but even you can admit that it needs a lot of work. It’s a poor excuse for a building, considering the state that it had been left in far before anyone called it home. It at least had running water, and electricity, but compared to the other dorms and their meticulous upkeep by both students and staff, Ramshackle is most certainly the odd dorm out with only two members and a handful of ghosts to its name. And yet it’s the place that the headmaster deems an acceptable place to host the VDC group during their month ‘training camp’.

♡ It makes it easier knowing that you’re good friends with the majority of the group, having been through plenty before the training camp even started. In some weird way it’s kind of like a month-long sleepover with your friends and classmates, not unlike the times Kalim’s dragged you over to Scarabia for the night in the name of making fond memories. Still, you can’t help but feel cautious around the Pomfiore members you now have living under your roof, and how little you actually know about them.

♡ By this point, the fact that you’ve got no memories prior to ending up in Twisted Wonderland is pretty much common knowledge amongst the people who bother to keep tabs on you. And considering how Pomefiore’s got the likes of Rook, a skilled hunter who has a penchant for people watching anyone who catches his eye, you’ve got no doubts that they’re well aware of your circumstances.

♡That, and Crowley’s a loudmouth when it comes to his generosity about your ‘unfortunate situation’. That headmaster is really starting to test your patience…

♡ While Vil is strict, he’s by no means cruel, and is at least polite when you first allow them all into your home. He thankfully doesn’t pity you like you worried he would - you’ve had enough of the pitying looks some people give you when they think you’re not looking. Your lack of a past isn’t something you want to dwell on, Vil can see that clearly with how thoroughly you throw yourself into the training camp alongside your friends and new acquaintances. Not to mention that you act as a surprisingly good buffer between the members whenever tensions start to arise with the upcoming deadline.

♡ It’s admirable really - a single minded little spudling if he’s ever seen one. You’ve got promise, if you keep up that resilient attitude, so Vil offers you no quarter in getting you just as involved in this little training excursion as the others are, if only to help you flourish with enough memories of this upcoming event to last you for a lifetime.

♡ With that being said your thirst for knowledge isn’t to be underestimated, and once you find out that Vil’s pretty much a celebrity and acting prodigy you’re intrigued. Vil’s walking past the living room after the group’s come back from another day training at the ballroom and freezes once he hears his own voice coming through the door. Sure enough you’re lounging over the couch watching one of the more obscure movie titles Vil’s acted in on the phone Crowley ‘gifted’ you before winter break. There’s a blunt honesty when you praise his work once you notice you’ve got an audience. Sure, it’s praise he’s heard from adoring fans and critics more times than he could ever hope to recall, but it’s not something you’re saying just to try and get in his good books. When you offhandedly mention that he looks a little happier in the roles where he’s not the villain, noting that they suit him and that whatever world you’re from he’d probably be a big hit, you swear that he gets a bit smug, apparently pleased by whatever you’d said. You may not know all the ins and outs of this world yet, but Vil’s at least sure you’ve got taste. Which is why he turns a convenient blind eye at the treats you smuggle up to Grim and your room after he’s sure you swore to Ace and Deuce to follow along with their no-sweet regime.

♡ Rook is observant, and it’s hard for people not to feel like he’s prying a bit too much into their personal lives when they happen to gain the huntsman’s attention. Perhaps it’s because you’ve got a relatively blank slate, or that you’re so focused on forging ahead to whatever comes next that you’ll get involved at a moment’s notice. Whatever the quality it has piqued his interest, and from the moment that the camp starts he’s committing every little detail about you to memory.

♡ You may not see it, but there’s so many details in the actions that you do and your daily routines that tell the story of who you are to whoever is diligent enough to listen. It’s in your mannerisms and the way you engage with everything around you, all easily missed to the untrained eye. It’s beautiful in its own way, and Rook is nothing if not an appreciator of that beauty.

♡ Your homestead at Ramshackle is but another shining example of who you are as well. Having nothing but the clothes on your back and a basic understanding of how to function when you first arrived, it’s clear that you’ve made a concentrated effort to at least make the place liveable for you and Grim; not just as a shelter, but as a home. Because of course this is the only place you can call home, and Rook is sure to treat it with the respect such an important place deserves.

♡ Epel doesn’t really know what to make of you at first. You’re from a different world entirely, for one thing, and not having any kind of past beyond school makes him feel a bit awkward about interacting with you. According to Vil, Epel’s still rather rough around the edges, and when his emotions get the better of him he’s been known to put his foot in it and say something that comes off blunt and snappy. Plus, surely there was only so much the two of you could talk about that wasn’t VDC or school related, right?

♡ He’s proven wrong when that huge batch of apple juice from his nana back home is delivered to Ramshackle’s doorstep. All it takes is him mentioning to Kalim that his hometown is known for its apples, and before he can even elaborate your voice chimes in with a helpful “Oh,the village of Harvest, right?” that has Epel’s attention snapping over to you so quickly you think you’ve done something wrong.

♡How did you even know that? His hometown’s barely on the map to begin with, so it genuinely makes him freeze when you recognize it so quickly. The question bugs him until he’s able to ask you about it later, where he finds out just how much you’ve thrown yourself into learning about this world you’ve ended up in. You’re excited that someone’s finally asking you about stuff that you do know, and you pretty much end up talking poor Epel’s ear off for the rest of the evening, telling him all kinds of facts you’ve read up on regarding his hometown’s history and culture. Hell, you spout off a few facts that even he didn’t know about, and he doesn’t miss the proud grin on your face once you learn that.

♡Surprisingly, you want to hear more from Epel too. About the place he grew up, the people he grew up with - his family especially. You’ve had some time to process your own grief around your potential family and your life back home, and though there’s still a twinge of jealousy that sparks up on the bad days you don’t want it to hinder the people that you care about right now. And so you sit, and you listen, prodding him for as much information as he’s willing to give. He practically has to send a message to his nana there and then thanking her on your behalf for all the juice when you learn that she was the one kind enough to send them all over. It’s the only way to get you off of his back about it, but there’s no denying that it’s actually kind of nice having someone who’s genuinely curious about his upbringing, instead of snooping or looking down on it.

♡Even after VDC you’re surprised to find that Pomefiore’s promptly nestled itself into your life. With everything that took place before and after the group's performance it only made sense that they’ve bonded to their newest potato, just be prepared for what exactly that entails. Expect plenty of gifts in the form of the latest cosmetic brands and accessories to be delivered to Ramshackle (much to Grim’s disappointment because it’s not food.) You’ve even had yourself called all the way over to Pomefiore’s dorm only to come back with entire outfits just because you let slip once that Crowley’s budget for your dorm doesn’t cover enough to justify buying anything more than your uniform.

♡ Those aren’t the only gifts you receive too. Often when you’re hanging out with the first year group Epel’s got one thing or another that his family back home has practically strong-armed him into giving to you. He’s talked about you to his folks a few times thanks to the whole apple incident, and Marja herself has made Epel remind you more than a couple times that you’re always welcome at the village of Harvest when the next school breaks come up. Did that embarrass Epel? Yes. Did it make him panic when you immediately teared up because of how touching it was? Also yes.

♡ Pomefiore’s final gifts are small, but mean just as much. They also confuse the hell out of you because when did they even show up??? They’re specific things - things related to your hobbies like new books, CD’s, Movies of your favorite genre for you to enjoy (in case Crowley ever caves and gets you that TV on sale at Sam’s store that he’s been promising you for weeks now goddammit-). All placed somewhere that you’re sure to find them. These gifts are well thought out and honestly mean a lot once you realize who they’re from. Not to mention that there’s a folder with a beautiful decorated cover amongst these little surprises, a clear label reading ‘Memory book’ in very familiar handwriting. Thank god the mystery is solved once you find out Grim’s being bribed with tuna by a certain bob-cut huntsman to drop all these things off at Ramshackle (Grim was supposed to give them to you in hand, but he always gets too bored to do so before you get back from school.) So long as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve been pseudo-adopted into Pomfiore’s ranks by the end of it, it’s honestly kind of nice.

♡Just maybe don’t tell Vil that you may have accidentally made friends with his biggest rival on the day of the event because you ran into him backstage. Rook is certainly happy about it - Vil not so much.

Ignihyde

♡ Your friendship with the housewarden of Ignihyde can be rather prickly in light of everything that’s happened, especially after the events with S.T.Y.X. Before that your only real contact with the Shroud brothers was through Ortho, during your first run in at the audition waiting room. You didn’t hide your excitement once you learned that Idia had made the vocal synthesizer that Ortho was using for the VDC auditions, marveling about how cool it was and asking question after question about how he did it. Ortho is more than happy to answer each and every question you have and then some - especially once you learned Technomancy was a thing and just about lit up like a lightbulb. In fact Ace and Deuce basically have to strong arm you away from the conversation in the end because you’re gonna end up making them late for the damn audition.

♡ You at least have the chance to call out to Ortho to tell his brother that he sounds awesome and his stuff is cool before the ballroom door shuts behind you. And that’s exactly what he tells Idia as soon as he’s back from the auditions. Idia thinks that you’re just pulling his leg and don’t actually mean any of the nice things that you say, and it takes Ortho insisting on playing it to him on his memory bank multiple times to prove just how genuinely nice and excited you sounded.

♡ Idia doesn’t really expect to hear anything from you after that, but hoo boy is he mistaken because once you’ve gotten in one of the Shroud boys’ good books the other one (reluctantly) follows. Not that he has much of a choice, because not even a couple of days after the auditions Idia’s getting added to a group chat with him, Ortho and you. It’s supposedly because you’d wanted to ask him a few more questions about his tech, and after Ortho had mentioned his brother probably wouldn’t like the face to face grilling, a group chat with the younger Shroud as the middleman was born. Grim sometimes forces his way into the conversation, but that usually involves him demanding you to write down the texts for him or slapping the nearest meme on your phone into the chat completely out of context.

♡Ortho has a lot of fun chatting with you because he shares your passion for learning things, and the two of you become thick as thieves over it before and after he officially becomes a student. He’s basically got the internet at his fingertips at all times, alongside a variety of other tools that basically make the younger Shroud brother a walking hub of information. You, for one, are absolutely living your best life because whatever odd subject has caught your attention, no matter the question you can always ask Ortho and he is more than happy to provide you whatever fun fact you’re looking for within a matter of moments. You get a bit quiet once he mentions the memories he was given during his creation, but that’s to be expected given the circumstances that you’re working with.

♡ At first, getting Idia to even pop up in the chat is like pulling on a gacha - you’ve got a good 2% chance of him actually interacting, though he does check in a lot more than you’d expect. With time however, and more than a little persistence on your part, you’ll find cracks in Idia’s defenses. He finds it easier to talk to people behind the safety of a screen, and it's not like you’re forcing him to interact with you so that at least gets you some brownie points. Granted, expect him to prod juuuuust a little bit if the topic of your memories come up in chat. He’s sure he hasn’t got enough of a bond rank with you yet

♡Things go up in the air when S.T.Y.X breaks into NRC.

♡ It was one thing having all of these people who you’d come to call friends suddenly stolen away, but losing Grim? The one who’s been your rock since you first showed up who’s been a part of every single memory you’ve made? If Rook wasn’t already planning to sneak out to find them you would have tore through their headquarters with your bare hands to get that damn tuna loving weird rock eating fluff ball back. Once you found out what S.T.Y.X actually had their hands in, especially considering the Lethe River system you were pissed. If you didn’t know for a fact that you were from another world entirely, and that the system operated to a very specific set of procedures for rewriting and erasing set memories, you would have thought that it had something to do with your own memory erasure. If that was the case you probably would have throttled the poor older Shroud; but because you know the truth, and the system itself is down for the next few centuries you settle for being absolutely livid about it.

♡ It’s a sore spot, hitting a little too close to home knowing that there’s people out there who have had memories taken away from them or altered to protect S.T.Y.X’s existence. It’s nothing like your own situation, but you can’t help feeling angry for them. And on top of that, seeing all of those phantoms and knowing that they could have been your friends if you hadn’t been able to bring them back from their overblots? You may try to think of every memory being worth it, but you learn that some bad memories keep you up at night for days after you’re all finally home.

♡ Your friendship with the brothers is tentatively built back up after this, but it takes a bit of work. Idia’s convinced that you’re never going to want anything to do with either of them again after all that’s happened. So convinced that he nearly has a heart attack when you reach out into the group chat once you’ve had time to process things and recover.

♡ Gonna be honest, the wonderlink he gets for you and Grim becomes a huge olive branch once you’re settled back at Ramshackle. Your determination to make memories alongside not having a clue how the gaming system works leads to you either calling Idia over the phone or actually wrangling him into coming over to play with you. Whether by accident or purpose most of the games you purchased on the system he gave you are multiplayer and you insist that there’s absolutely no way just the two of you can place and that you need a gaming expert. Of course Idia sees through your poorly veiled attempts to get him to socialize, but you must have pulled some cheat code because you somehow manage to get him over to play with you two. Just be ready to have more than a few memories of losing - he’s a gaming pro for a reason, after all.

Diasomnia

♡ You’ve firmly wormed your way into the Diasomnia circle from the moment that you first encountered Malleus, whether you realize it at first or not.

♡ Mallues may not be the most intimately involved in the school's affairs or gossip, but even he’s heard talk of the prefect from another world with neither magic nor memories to their name. The lack of magical aptitude wasn’t anything to bat an eye at, though it was unfortunate given your current enrollment at one of the top arcane colleges in the world. But to have no recollections of your life prior to enrolling? In a place where no one can recognize you or give you the answers that you’re looking for? Truly, an unfortunate set of circumstances you’ve been dealt.

♡ He did not expect to cross paths with this infamous prefect on Ramshackle’s grounds not long after word of them popped up. The old bones of the place were a comfort to Malleus on many nightly walks; when he finds out that it’s no longer as abandoned as he first thought he’s sour at the knowledge that he’ll have to find another place to pass his time in peace. The last thing that Malleus expects is you being bold enough not only to approach him, but to greet him so casually as you none too subtly try to pry into what he’s doing walking around your dorm grounds.

♡ Perhaps you’ve lost more than just your memories, as there’s not even a shred of trepidation or cautiousness as you so boldly interact with the fae. Not only that but you listen, looking up at him not with the nervousness or even fear that he’s seen in the faces of most of NRC’s students, but with curiosity. You’re a stranger to this world, so you don’t yet know the name Malleus Draconia, nor the face the name is tied to. For once your lack of knowledge works to someone’s benefit, and an unusual bond is formed.

♡ Your friendship with Malleus is an interesting exchange - you provide him company and idle conversation whenever he spirits away to Ramshackle; and he provides you company in turn, as well as a willing ear for you to confide in. Sure, your friends have told you that you can talk to them about your problems, but for some reason you’re able to open up easily to Mal. Maybe it’s because of just how little you know about him, right down to his very name - he’s just as much of a blank slate to you as yourself. So you find yourself sharing your worries about where you came from, or the life you lived before this, or the general distress of not knowing the first thing to do about getting your memory back.

♡ Even after all these months it still weighs heavily on you, Malleus can see it in the tired expression that wears on your face when you recall all the things you’ve done to bring back even a shred of your old identity until your head’s pounding and your eyes ache. He hates seeing you troubling yourself over it, and more than once he’s found himself flickering through old books and tomes that haven’t been touched in centuries back home with the small hope to relieve some of that burden from your mind.

♡ On a happier note, Malleus will quite happily fill you in on subjects that peak your interest. He may have lived a fairly isolated life up until his enrollment here, but even what he does know about NRC and the world outside of it he’ll share with you, if only to see the way your expression lights up in wonder hearing everything he has to share.

♡ This dynamic changes very little, aside from the fact that now that you know his true identity these interactions are no longer purely one sided in the sense that you don’t have to wait around for him to just magically appear like you have been for months. Now he’s the one being surprised by your presence when you come knocking on Diasomnia’s doors looking to hang out. Surprising, but it honestly makes the young Draconia’s day having you march through his dorm’s halls wanting to spend time with him, encouraging him to talk about his day and asking how Roaring Drago is doing as you do so.

♡ It’s an unusual feeling, having someone’s undivided attention simply because they enjoy your company, and that you leave such an impressionable impact on their memory. Your memory is a precious commodity considering your unique circumstances, and Malleus realizes that he wants to be in as many fond memories as you’ll allow him to.

♡ Though he has to admit, Malleus can’t shake the conflict that dwells in his chest whenever the topic of your home world comes up. Perhaps it’s just in your nature to yearn for something you’ve never known, but he wonders if you’re thinking about it because your worried about your ties to this world. He hopes that once you realize the life that you’re building here, and the memories that you’re making with him and your friends will be enough to convince you to stay. But that day is far away, and so he pushes it to the back of his mind in favor of enjoying the time spent with his closest friend, for however long it lasts…

♡Lilia, catches onto the friendship you’ve got with Malleus quickly, because of course there’s no hiding how much happier Malleus has become. You’re an interesting case yourself, being able to tackle most of the problems that Ramshackle has to offer you and come out the other side as unscathed as you can be. That coupled with the increased amount of time you begin spending around Daisomnia and its students is more than enough reason to catch this guy’s attention. He learns about your memory loss early on, especially considering that it’s pretty much the talk of the school once the information drops. He won’t prod you about it like some of the younger students might, however; he’s been on this earth long enough to recognize a sore subject when he sees one.

♡ And so he sets about learning things about you in the present rather than the past. Your likes, dislikes, favorite foods, how easily shocked you get when he tries one of his infamous surprise appearances. Lilia’s very easygoing so it’s rather easy to get along with him, not to mention being a dad he’s got the comforting parental presence down pat when he wants to use it. He’s an easy person to let your guard down around, and admit things you usually wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why you end up talking to him about the what-if’s of your previous life.

♡ It’s a moment of weakness, you let one of your idle thoughts about your family back home slip, asking aloud if there’s anyone there to actually miss you. Lilia doesn’t miss the somber chuckle as you admit that you’re a little jealous - Sebek has his parents, and Silver has Lilia. You want a family like that. You try to lighten the mood by jokingly asking why someone can’t whisk you away into their family already, thinking about that time Kalim very nearly got you adopted into his family once he learned of your memory loss. You don’t expect an answer, much less for the moment to suddenly be broken as the fae pats your head ruffling your hair. No doubt he’s made your hair a mess by the action, but you’re more focused on the grin Lilia gives you when he mentions always wanting a big family - he’s sure Silver wouldn’t mind having a new sibling!

♡Unrelated but Lilia loves sharing old stories with you. Some of the things he shares you vaguely recall reading about in some history books at the library; some of those books were so old you have to wrack your brain trying to do the mental gymnastics to figure out exactly how old he is. He is thoroughly entertained seeing the mild existential crisis inducing cogs turning in your head as he continues his tales, waiting for you to inevitably jump into the story to prod him for more information. Just wait until Malleus shows you that one textbook that’s got Lilia’s portrait in; Lilia doesn’t hear the end of it when you come flying into his room mid game with the textbook in hand demanding to know how the hell he looks the same in a portrait taken centuries ago and waiting like a stubborn child next to his chair as he finishes the raid he’s working through with Gloomurai.

♡ Maybe if you weren’t so desperate for answers, you would have noticed that his friend’s gamer tag looks kinda familiar…

♡ Offered to cook you your favorite dish once. You thought it was a nice gesture, until Sebek and Silver made a joint effort to wrangle you away from the scene, basically pleading with Lilia to please not step foot into the kitchen. That’s probably one thing you’re better off not learning about…

♡ When Sebek first runs into you at NRC, he almost fools himself into thinking that you’re playing up the amnesia for some unforeseen gain. He’s not the first student to have had their doubts, and honestly you can’t entirely blame him for just how weird ‘complete memory loss aside from remembering basic functions and muscle memory’ sounds even without the whole context of this being a world governed by magic. However, what makes Sebek different is that he approaches the subject about as delicately as a falling brick. You’re only half listening as he’s demanding answers for things you don’t even know yourself, already fed up with the whole rigmarole of people throwing questions about your amnesia at you.

♡There’s only so much you can hear about memories this, hiding that before you snap back, hissing out that you’d give just about anything for it to be a lie rather than spending every night guessing where you’ve come from and who you’ve left behind while he’s got the luxury of knowing the kind of life he’s lived before this damn school. That shuts him up faster than you’ve ever seen, jaw snapping closed so hard you swear you hear his teeth click together as you turn heel and generate as much distance between the two of you as possible.

♡ He feels guilty afterwards; Sebek may be a bit of a livewire but even he knows when he’s taken things a bit too far, and it’s clear to see his prying has left you feeling more than a little bitter towards him. Thankfully team dad Lilia is right there to offer advice on smoothing things over in a way that doesn’t result in things looping back around to the original argument. It takes a little while to come to terms with the fact that Sebek genuinely didn’t mean any malice in his prodding; with him on a determined path to become a knight worthy to protect Malleus he wants to know that he can trust you before allowing any kind of potential friendship to form. The way that he went about it however was blunt and came off way ruder than intended; that’s something you can both agree on when he bellows out an apology in the middle of the damn hallway when you cross paths the next day.

♡ He comes to respect how diligently you work despite your initial setbacks coming to Twisted Wonderland with such limited knowledge. What he once thought was an attempt to pry into things for malicious gain he finds is actually just a desire to understand the world around you and the people who inhabit it. Sebek has relayed his respect to you before, in his own way, and thankfully you’ve spent enough time around him to know that he genuinely means every word of it.

♡ Will actively spur on your thirst for knowledge. The first time he lent you a book because he thought the material would give you something to think about, he fully expected it to be weeks before you’d finished. Cut to the next night and you’re unceremoniously dropping that same book onto his bedroom desk, sitting down next to him as you exclaim how cool the book was and your favorite highlights.

♡ Of course Sebek quizzes you about it, but when it’s clear you’ve actually taken an interest in the book he’s given you expect to be walking home that night with a new pile of them to pour over to your heart's content. He’s got his own passion for books, and the pair of you bond over this shared activity a lot more than people realize. Lilia almost can’t believe his eyes how quickly Sebek’s hot-blooded attitude simmers down into something more tempered whenever you come over to gush about the latest book he’s recommended to you.

♡You made a joke once about being adopted by Sebek’s parents while he was on call back home, if only to get a laugh out of the smoldering glare he shot you from the other side of the couch. That laugh however breaks out into a full on cackle hearing his parents actually agreeing with you as you shuffle across the couch and pluck the phone from Sebek’s hands while he’s frozen in shock. His mom is thrilled; Sebek, decidedly, is not, as a pillow from the couch goes sailing across the room as you flee from the scene, disappearing into Daisomnia’s halls with Sebek’s phone to tell your second adopted family all about how he’s been making them proud at NRC.

♡ Silver doesn’t miss the signs that you’ve essentially been pseudo-adopted by his father and the other Diasomnia members, though he doesn’t know that you haven’t clocked onto it yet. Considering how Malleus considers you a close confidant, Lilia is basically treating you like another one of his children, and Sebek seems to actually enjoy having you around it’s easy to think that you’ve noticed just how much everyone cares for you. And of course you care for them in return; more than once you’ve stopped by during Silver and Sebek’s training with something from the cafeteria, or you’ve brought the oddest little things you’ve found at Sam’s shop to show off how cool they are (all of which he’s pretty sure he’s seen scattered around Malleus’ room whenever you bring a new item to the dorm.)

♡ You’re quickly becoming such an integral part of Diasomnia’s life that it’s getting harder to imagine a time without you here, and these guys have become all you’ve ever known in the same way. So it’s shocking to Silver when one of the other students mentions that you’ve basically been adopted into the dorm - you’re there so much you’re practically family anyway - and he sees your reaction. You freeze, jaw slack as you process what you’ve just heard. You hardly even notice Grim swiping the sandwich Silver brought you for lunch in your shock, instead glancing up at the Diasomnia boy as if to confirm what you just heard

♡ When he gives you a confused look in return and asks why you’re so shocked since they’re right he practically watches you go through several stages of emotions, right before you’re grabbing him by the lapel of his uniform and guide him to follow you as you bolt over to Crowley’s office. The poor headmaster doesn’t hear the end of your demanding for Grim and yourself to be made honorary Diasomnia members after this. If they’re adopting you, then by the seven you’re getting it in writing from the bird man himself.

♡ Silver mentions once that he wouldn’t mind if you really were adopted into the family. It’s right as he’s on the cusp of another one of his naps, leaning up against your shoulder when he lets slip that he’d be proud to have a sibling like you without thinking anything of it - because of course it’s true, it's just a thought he hasn’t voiced out loud before. Cut to Lilia coming in a minute or two later to check in only to find his son conked out on your shoulder while you’re a blubbering mess over the fact that someone genuinely wants you as part of their family. Lilia feels only marginally bad when he reaffirms the sentiment, him casually throwing out that he already sees you as Silver’s little sibling resulting in you crying harder.

171 notes · View notes

beewolfwrites · 1 year

Note

Hear me out… you know that meme of like the dad and the dog that he didn’t want who always end up being super close.. can we get something similar to that with Chishiya and y/n LMAO

btw I love your writing and I’m glad you’re back ♡

Haha, I guess this is the closest way I could replicate it? Enjoy <3

(Chishiya x gn reader)

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

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘Please, Chishiya! There’s plenty of spare hotel rooms.’ This woman, Kuina, was bouncing on her heels now.

You felt a little awkward being argued over like this, but you also didn’t want to intervene. The relationship between Kuina and this man, Chishiya, wasn’t clear. Whilst you had been forced to collaborate with Kuina in your last game - swinging from chain ropes to avoid the swimming pool of simmering acid below - this was the first game where you had worked with this ‘Chishiya’ person. He wasn’t particularly tall, and his dyed blonde hair was striking against his sly, catlike features. Why Kuina had to ask his permission to take you with them, you couldn’t tell. From the sounds of it, this ‘hideout’ of theirs had a leader who ultimately decided on who stayed or went.

The game itself had been troublesome; a twisted spin on snakes and ladders. The venue was an old brick building with scaffolding covering the entire exterior. The rules seemed simple, too; climb up to the roof to clear the game. What the rules hadn't explained was the exposed electrical wires and venomous snakes.

You had been climbing just below the other two when Chishiya’s foot slipped on the wet steel. It went against every one of your survival instincts, yet your body moved on its own, freeing one hand to grasp Chishiya, catching him whilst clinging onto the scaffolding with all your strength. His expression was still vivid in your memory, as he clutched your hand. Rather than surprise at what had happened, or relief. He looked puzzled, as if he couldn’t work out why you’d done it.

Truth be told, you weren’t too sure why yourself.

‘Strength alone isn’t enough,’ you could hear him murmur.

Kuina huffed and folded her arms. ‘Speak for yourself. You would have died back there, you know.’

‘And?’

You grimaced, trying to hide your face in your sleeve. If your presence was this much of an issue, maybe it would be better if you simply went your own way.

‘Um… hey,’ you mumbled, causing the pair to suddenly look up. ‘It’s obviously a problem, so I’ll just leave. Good luck on your next game.’

You began to walk away into the cool evening. The breeze was refreshing after such a physically exhausting game. Their hideout did sound like a great opportunity, but you knew when you weren’t wanted. Behind you, you could hear the two bickering, their voices growing more and more distant with every step you took.

‘See! Look what you’ve done now.’

‘I don’t see why you care so much, Kuina.’

‘Chishiya!’

The arguing stopped, but you didn’t bother looking back to find out why. Maybe things were supposed to be like this. You’d arrived in this twisted world alone, so maybe you were supposed to go back alone too. You were thinking carefully about where you should set up camp for the night, when a smooth voice called out from behind.

‘You.’

Slowing, you turned around to see this man, Chishiya, strolling towards you. His hood was drawn over his head, hands in his pockets, and his relaxed demeanour suggested that he had no intention of harm. Yet his eyes were analytical, and you could feel him assessing every move you made. Behind him, Kuina was slowly making her way over.

‘What cards do you have?’ Chishiya asked.

Your hand instinctively went to your pocket where you kept your stash. ‘Seven of Spades,’ you said, trying to remember all the games you had cleared. ‘Two of Hearts, Eight of Clubs, Nine of Spades, Ace of Diamonds—’

‘Fine.’

You hadn’t expected Chishiya to give in all of a sudden. Was it really just down to your cards? Looking at him now, his eyes were glittering with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

‘That’s it?’ You asked, unsure of what was truly happening here. ‘That’s all you wanted to know?’

‘You’ve got a good range of cards,’ he said. ‘And you’re a skilled Spades player. You could be useful.’

Kuina’s face cracked into a grin. She pressed her palms together as if her prayers had been granted. ‘Really! Does that mean we can keep them?’

Chishiya pulled out a pair of headphones and slid them into his ears. ‘Whatever,’ he muttered.

The two began to walk back in the direction they had come. At first, you weren’t sure if this was truly happening. Had you really found allies you could rely on? Allies who had food and shelter? Kuina and Chishiya were several metres ahead before the latter turned around, his gaze expectant.

‘Are you coming or not?’

You nodded, unable to hold back a smile as you took your place by their side.

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu

963 notes · View notes

viking-raider · 3 months

Text

Salt in Our Wounds - Chapter III

Summary-> Things continue to grow more complicated for you with your charge. In more than one way. But there are some bright spots.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 6.5k

Chapters-> I II

Warnings-> PG: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> Since my favorite demon, @littlefreya, asked so nicely. The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> Dragon_Dweller

With Edmund back at his own home, your father asleep in his chair and the dinner dishes washed, then put away, you rubbed at your face, finally feeling the exhaustion of the day bear down on you. Your muscles were sore and you had a throbbing headache behind your eyes.

But your day wasn't quite over yet.

You filled a glass with water and brought it downstairs, in the off chance your guest woke up in the night, thirsty. The lanterns had been turned down low and the electric light had been turned off, in the cellar room, you thought nothing of it as you entered. Until you noticed the camp bed was empty.

“Oh-” You gasped, eyes wide with surprise, when you felt a warm and strong palm close around your mouth, muffling the startled scream you let out, the glass of water slipping from your fingers and shattering on the hard packed, dirt floor, splashing over your slippers.

“Calm yourself.” A deep, British accent rumbled low in your ear, whiskers tickling your skin. “I'm not going to hurt you. But you are going to answer my questions.” He said, pulling you backwards with him as he moved towards the cellar door, listening for any noise from the house upstairs, before pulling the door closed. “I'm going to remove my hand.”

“Don't make me regret it, love.”

Gulping thickly, stomach twisted in sick knots, you nodded in reply. He slowly removed his hand, in preparation of you crying out for help, but you were too frightened to make a peep. Nodding his head, he moved around you, gingerly holding a hand to his wound.

“Where am I?” He asked, piercing you with his stunning blue eyes. “Come now.” He cooed, when you continued to gawk at him, reaching up with his free hand to gently pinch your chin between his thumb and fingers, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“You're in the village of Saint-Thurney.” You blurted out, biting the inside of your cheek. “Just off the coast of the English Channel.”

“We're still in France?” He asked, his brows drawing together.

“Ye-yes.” You stuttered, blinking at him.

“You don't sound French.” He said, a light of deep suspicion filling his eyes as he regarded you more closely.

“Well, that's because I'm not.” You replied, frowning back at him. “My family and I moved here for a quieter life, before all this war nonsense broke out.” You explained, watching the beads of sweat on his forehead begin to drip down the edge of his nose. “You need to sit down, before you pass out.” You told him, reaching up to close your hand around the wrist of the hand he still held your chin with.

“I'm fine.” He dismissed you, despite becoming a bit pale.

“No, you're not.” You snapped at him, concerned. “You've been shot and washed ashore, with a fever.” You scolded him, pulling his hand away from your face and attempted to tug him over to the bed, but couldn't budge his large frame.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. “I could be the enemy, a collaborator, or at the least a sympathizer. For all you know, that's why I was shot.”

You looked him over, studying him. “You could be.” You nodded, though your gut still felt he wasn't. “But what I do know is you're injured and sick. I can't let you go untended for it.”

“You're a strange woman.” He chuckled, smirking at you.

“And you're a strange man that washed up on my beach.” You countered, cocking a brow at him.

“I'm Gus.” He offered his name, feeling a small measure of trust in you.

“It's been eventful, Gus.” You replied, then offered your own name to him. “Please, you're pale and sweating quite profusely. I don't want you to pass out.” You begged him, motioning to the bed.

Gus lifted an amused eyebrow at you for a second, before humoring you and sitting down in the chair. “How far is your little town from Dieppe?” He asked, grimacing at the discomfort.

“I'm not all that sure. All I know is we're north of it.” You replied, shaking your head. “Um, give me a moment.” You said, turning to go back upstairs, but Gus's hand shot out to grab your wrist, halting you. “I'm just going upstairs to grab one of the maps my father has in the sitting room. He's been tracking some of the German's movements.”

“Has he now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “My father was a soldier in the Great War, for the British Empire. It cost him dearly, so I would kindly ask you to wipe that assumption off your face.” You hissed at him, not liking the glint in Gus's orbs.

“My apologies, my lady.” He replied, tipping his head forward. “I meant no offense.” He tried to assure you, letting go of your wrist.

Silently going out, you crept up the stairs, wincing as the ancient wood steps creaked beneath your tiptoes. The flames in the fireplace were just high enough to keep the sitting room warm, while only casting a strong enough glow you could just see the outline of everything to navigate by. Your father sat slumped in his armchair, stocking feet propped up on an ottoman and his blanket tucked around his softly pudgy middle.

You couldn't stop the sweet smile that pulled on your lips as you stopped a short distance from him, listening to his rough snores, the flickering flames catching on the glass of his glasses. Reaching out, you slowly and gently removed them from his face, folding and tucking them into the front pocket of his pajamas; where he could find them in the morning. Turning your attention back to your task, you made your way over to the roll top desk your father kept his maps in, rifling through them for one that wasn't marked up with the battle fronts and supply lines. You knew your father would inquire as to where it was, if you took one of those.

Finding a new map, rolled up and held closed with an elastic band, you slowly pulled it out of the stack, shooting a look over your shoulder as your father snorted in his sleep suddenly, but didn't stir. Letting out a sigh and closing the desk, you scurried out of the sitting room, pausing momentarily to grab your broom and dustpan to sweep up the shards of the glass you had dropped.

“Here.” You held out the rolled up map to Gus, returning to the cellar and finding him still sitting where you left him.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking it.

Nodding back, you set the dust pan down on the floor and set about sweeping up your mess, while Gus removed the elastic band and spread the map out on the table, turning up the oil lamp that was beside it. Squinting at the small print names of towns, villages and cities along the coast, in search of the seaport of Dieppe in the Normandy region of Northern France. Tapping his index finger against it, he traced his other pointer finger up until he found Saint-Thurney, in the region of Hauts-de-France, letting out a growling hum as he did.

“Did you find it?” You asked, bent as you corralled the broken glass pieces into the metal dust pan.

“Aye, I did.” Gus replied, pushing his jaw forward, lips pursed in agitation. “We're eighty-four kilometers north of it.”

“Is that where you were injured?” You asked, standing back up, clapping your hands together to dust them off. “Off the coast of Dieppe?”

Gus's eyes shot up to you, guarded and suspicious.

“I found you washed ashore. So, unless you were shot, then driven eighty some kilometers from Dieppe and dumped on our beach, which is awfully out of the way to get rid of someone. Wartime or no. You had to either be near the Channel when it happened or already in the Channel.”

The suspicion in his eyes slowly melted into a look of impressed understanding. “You're very smart and forward, for a young lady.” He chuckled, smirking at you, but his gaze was still guarded as he twisted the end of his mustache.

“I was primarily raised by my father and brother, mostly my brother. So, my lady-like manners aren't as refined as they should be.” You confessed, though there was no apology in your voice or expression. “And I'm not quite a young lady, either.”

“I surely doubt you're not an old maid.” Gus remarked, cocking a brow as his eyes moved over you. “You can't be more than-” He pressed his lips together. “Twenty-six.”

“Flattery.” You giggled, a warmth blooming in your cheeks. “And you are trying to change the subject.”

Gus's smirk turned smug and devilish. “Quite.” He nodded, his brow twitching slightly. “I was injured in Dieppe. The circumstances are--” He paused, rubbing sweaty temples for a moment. “Fuzzy.”

“Are you in pain?” You asked, frowning at him, concerned by the pale flush to his face and the sweat still dripping down his face.

“I am.”

You grabbed the cloth from where it laid on the camp bed and used it to gently dab at his forehead and the sides of his neck. “You should lay back down, Gus.” You cooed at him, brushing a damp curl off his forehead. “I can get one of the morphine tablets Dr. Tremblay left for you.” You said, motioning to the tawny-colored bottle on the table.

Sitting quietly for a long time, Gus finally nodded and moved over to the bed, groaning and hissing as the movement pulled on his wound and stitches. You half covered him, before heading back upstairs for a fresh glass of water.

“Here.” You said quietly, handing over the water and took one of the round, white tablets out of the medicine bottle.

“Thank you.” He nodded at you, popping it in his mouth and chugging down most of the water.

“Are you hungry at all?” You inquired, biting your lip. “I have some food left over from dinner.” You told him, turning your upper body towards the door. “It's not much, but it's something on your stomach.”

“No, thanks.” Gus answered, letting his eyes fall shut. “I don't have an appetite just now.”

“All right.” You nodded, biting your lip. “I'll let you rest then. I'll come and see you in the morning.” You assured him, moving towards the door.

“Thank you.” Gus called out to you. “For what you're doing.” He elaborated, as you paused. “Most people during these times would have just left me to die or alerted the authorities. Let alone take me into their home, called a doctor and tended to me.”

You smiled, chuckling softly, before quipping. “Well, I believe we've established I'm no ordinary woman.”

“True enough.” He snorted back, feeling the drowsiness of the morphine start to seep into his body.

“Good night.” You bid him.

“Night.” Gus mumbled back, dozing off.

Upon waking the next morning, you laid in bed for a long while, listening to the distant rush of waves crashing on the shore and excited calls of birds. The day before felt surreal and part of you wondered if the events had actually happened. Had you truly found a wounded man washed up on your favorite beach, during wartime? Did you and your brother honestly sneak him into your home, so you could try and save him?

“Did we?” You asked the streaks of sunlight coming through the window beside your bed.

There was a knock on your door, breaking you free of your thoughts.

“Yes?” You called out, rubbing at your face and sitting up.

“Are you decent?” Edmund's voice called back.

Sighing, reality crashing back around you. “One moment!” You scurried out of bed and grabbed your robe off the back of the chair, securing it on, before you opened the door for your brother. “Good morning.” You greeted him.

“He is awake.” He replied under his breath.

“Oh yes, he is awake.” You nodded, biting your lip, remembering your interaction with Gus the night before. “He woke up a couple of hours after dinner.” You explained to Edmund.

“Why didn't you come and get me!” He hissed, glancing over his shoulder, towards the stairs, worried your father would hear.

“I—it honestly hadn't occurred to me at the moment, Edmund.” You told him, biting your lip.

“Didn't occur to you! He could have harmed you and Pops!” He scolded you, eye twitching with pent up anger. “I could have come over this morning to your dead-”

“Edmund, calm yourself.” You cut him off, watching the vein in his temple start to bulge. “He didn't harm me. He didn't even leave the cellar. What he did was startle me, when I found him out of the cot. Beyond that, he was quite courteous. Secretive and strange, but nothing but a gentleman.” You assured your brother. “I'm guessing you went down to look at him?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I did. Found him sitting up, staring at a map.”

“Oh, the stubbornness of men!” You huffed, shoving Edmund away from your door and closing it, rushing to get dressed. “I'll get breakfast going, if you want any. I'm sure Willa hasn't bothered, since it's not noon yet and she's not graced the living.” You said, coming back out in a whirlwind, Edmund still standing in the hallway.

“Just wait for me in the kitchen.”

“I'm not leaving you alone with that man.” Edmund huffed at you, close on your heels as you went downstairs.

“Good morning, Papa!” You sang out, the sound of the radio reaching you from the sitting room, your father listening intently to it.

“Morning, Peanut!” He replied, not looking up at you.

Smiling, you turned and went downstairs, into the cellar. “Good morning, Gus.” You smirked at his hunched back, a hint of sarcasm in your eyes.

“Morning.” Gus replied, leaning back in his chair to regard you. “Has my nurse come to pester me?” He asked, chuckling, amused at the glint of your glare.

“I have.” You nodded, reaching out and brushing the stray curl aside to rest your hand on his forehead, feeling the heat in his skin. “You're not as warm as you were last night.” You commented, letting your hand drop. “So, your fever is dropping. But I still need to give you the shot Dr. Tremblay ordered yesterday.”

“Right.” Gus nodded, curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt, to pull it off.

“Mm-mm.” You hummed at him, shaking your head.

“What?” He frowned at you.

“Thigh.” You smirked at him, grabbing the antibiotic vial and syringe that Tremblay left behind for you.

“Explains why I don't have any trousers on.” Gus snorted, his blue eyes catching Edmund's, which were ablaze with protective suspicion. “Your bodyguard.” He asked, a sharp edge of wit in his voice.

“Brothers are like that.” You smiled, moving in front of Gus.

“So, not your husband then.” He inquired, meeting your eye.

“Ew.” You giggled, shaking your head, tugging up one side of his boxers. “No offense, Edmund.” You added, biting your lip as you gently pinched the thick muscle at the top of his thigh.

“None taken, Peanut.” Edmund replied, scowling at Gus.

“Why don't you go upstairs, Captain?” You suggested to Edmund, carefully injecting the needle. “We're all right down here.” You said, biting your lip in concentration as you pushed the plunger down.

Edmund lingered for a minute, before turning on his boot heels and storming back upstairs, making a ruckus as he did.

“I'm sorry about him.” You said to Gus, removing the needle and setting it aside. “It's just that he's very protective.”

“And I'm just some strange man, that washed ashore on your beach, that's now holed up in your basement.” Gus chuckled, nodding his head in understanding, but frowned at you. “You called him, Captain. But he's not in the military, is he?”

You drew a deep breath, held it for a second with a thoughtful look on your face, before sighing. “No, Edmund isn't. He tried to join the military when the war broke out, but they turned him away.” You explained to him, your heart sore for your brother.

Edmund was loyal, steadfast and capable. He was quite patriotic as well, for the home you had come from and the home you had made in France. Even when he couldn't serve for them on the front lines, or even behind the lines. You wished with all your heart Edmund could march in those neat lines, in a snappy uniform, to officially hold the rank of Captain. Knowing the void it filled in him. But due to an unfortunate medical condition, no branch of the military would have him, in even a desk job.

“Why wouldn't they take him?” Gus asked, frowning with confusion. “He looks more than able.” He commented, having seen Edmund's lean and muscular body.

“Oh yes, bodily he is. Mentally as well.” You agreed, fussing with the fabric of your skirt. “But it's his eyes that are the issue.” You licked your lips and looked up at Gus. “He has an eye condition, Retinitis Pigmentosa. It causes you to lose your vision over time. It starts with your night vision, then your peripheral vision, before you go blind completely.”

“Currently, Eddie has no night vision to speak of and his side vision is becoming blurry. So, he's kept his trade as a carpenter.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Gus said, his eyes soft on you. “Can I ask why you call him Captain?”

You giggled quietly, a fond memory coming to mind. “Our father was a Major, in the Great War, and had a good many metals for it.” You explained to him, a distant look in your eye. “Among other things.” You mumbled, quietly. “Edmund loved his memorabilia as a child and would wear them all the time, showing them off to anybody and everybody that would look and listen to how our father got them.” You laughed, smiling. “Our father had given Edmund one of his patches, the one that had once identified him as a Captain.” You paused, biting your lip and furrowing your brow.

“Mother left when I was five and Edmund was fifteen. I don't remember much of that day, other than my father being in one of his fits and Edmund sending me next door for a while. When he came back to get me, he told me it was just going to be us now. But not to worry, he was the Captain of the house and he'd make sure everything would be all right.”

“You took to calling him Captain, as a nickname.” Gus grinned, understanding and touched.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, somber. “We refer to our father as Major, from time to time as well.”

“Well, that'll make things awkward, while I'm your guest.” Gus laughed, smirking at you.

“Why's that?” You frowned at him.

Gus sighed, his face turning to an expression of seriousness. “I'm a Major in the British Army.” He confessed to you, flexing his fingers.

“So, you are on our side.” You replied, the corners of your lips twitching with relief to know you were right about him.

“What side would that be?” He asked, his eyes squinting slightly.

“Well, we're not holding you hostage, Major. We're hiding you from the German patrol in our village, that has already almost caught us with you once, to start with.” You told him, bluntly. “While tending to your wound.” You said, pointing to the hole in his shirt. “So, we're on your side. Which is just unfortunately occupied.”

“There's a German patrol post here?” Gus asked, tensing.

“Yes. An annoying one at that.”

“Annoying how?”

“It was a very small patrol, when they first gained control of France. Perhaps fifteen of them.” You explained, shrugging your shoulders. “But three months ago, half of the main German Patrol moved from Rue to here. You can fit Saint-Thurney in part of Rue. We don't know why they've moved. It's been kept hushed and with that hush an increase in their patrols around town. It was a miracle I found you on the beach before they did.”

“It would seem so.” Gus nodded, troubled.

“Do you recall anything of your ordeal?” You asked, frowning at him. “How you got injured? Or into the water?”

Gus carded a hand through his nest of curls, shaking his head. “The last thing I recall was being with my men in Dieppe. Everything after that is still fuzzy and dark.”

“Perhaps you were ambushed?” You bit your lip, knowing you were reaching.

“It's possible.” He sighed, before shrugging his shoulders. “I'm sure it'll come back to me.”

“I'm sure it will.” You answered, offering him a soft smile. “Until then, I should head back upstairs and start breakfast.” You sighed, moving towards the door. “Would you like some coffee or tea?” You offered, politely.

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” Gus replied, with a kind tilt of his head.

“Coming right down.” You smirked, scurrying back upstairs.

“Are you all right?” Edmund asked as you entered the kitchen.

“I'm fine, Eddie.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You don't have anything to worry about with him. He's ever the gentleman you are.” You told him, opening the pantry door and removing your apron off the hook, tying it around you. “Did you go down to the store and get the supplies, like I asked last night?”

“Yes.” Edmund grunted, fetching the small crate from by the door. “Remi added a bit more tea leaves. Said, he knows how much you love your cuppas.” He informed you, setting the crate on the kitchen counter.

“What a sweetheart.” You giggled, plucking the brown paper bag of loose tea leaves out of the supplies and dropped it beside the stove, before digging through for the coffee grounds. “We need--” You tilted your head back, cocking a brow at your father for a second, before looking at Edmund. “To get our guest, some clothing.”

“Clothes.” Edmund snapped at you, brows creasing so deeply, they almost touched.

“Well, his shirt has a hole in it.” You scolded your brother, eyes rolling. “And you can tell by looking at them, that they're not clothing anyone from around here would wear.”

“Who's going to see him?” He argued further.

“What if the Patrol does one of their searches?” You countered, giving him a smug look.

“That's what the hidden door and the damn shelves are for, Peanut!” He huffed at you. “To hide him, so if the Patrol comes searching the houses, they won't find him.”

“Still, it's rude, Edmund.” You huffed, filling your tea pot and putting it on the stove to boil. “He can't stay down there in filthy clothing.”

Edmund rubbed his face. “Fine.” He sighed, giving in. “I'll find him something to wear. If it'll make you so happy.”

“It will.” You answered, smirking at him. “It's only the polite thing to do, and you know it.”

“Of course, my dear sister.” He huffed, playfully rolling his eyes at you, before kissing your cheek. “I'll be back for breakfast. I made a call to Duprée for some lumber, to start building our guest's paradise downstairs.”

“All right, it should be done by then.” You nodded, patting him gently on the chest.

Gus sipped at the coffee you had kindly brewed for him. You had even brought him a few books from the bookcases in the sitting room, so he had something to occupy his time, other than staring at the map. He looked at the covers of Gulliver's Travels, the Great Gatsby, the Pickwick Papers and Of Mice and Men, before picking up the latter. Thumbing it open to the first page, he rested back in his seat, finding it more comfortable than the camp bed to recline in.

He hadn't gotten far into the chapter, before hearing footsteps coming back down the basement stairs and cast a glance through the half open cellar door, catching sight of Edmund coming down, with several boards on his shoulder. Gus folded the corner of his page and set the book aside, pushing himself up with a muffled groan.

“Do you want some help with that?” He asked, stopping short of the stairs.

“Nope.” Edmund replied, reaching the bottom. “I'm more than positive, if you look at these boards sideways, my sister will come down here and beat the both of us.” He said, his voice humorless, but Gus laughed anyway.

“I'm sure you're right.” He smirked, glancing up the stairs, hearing the bumps and clinks coming from the kitchen. “She's a gentle, but firm, nurse.”

“That she is.” Your brother agreed, setting the boards down to one side of the room and shrugging his shoulders. “My father and I made sure she had her manners, but she never let anyone boss or bully her around.” He said, glancing at Gus for a moment.

“That's good.” Gus replied, catching Edmund's eye. “People can be quite harsh in this world. Especially to young ladies.”

Edmund nodded, then went back upstairs for the rest of the wood and his tools. He also brought down a bag. “My sister insisted on me bringing you these.” He said, setting the bag beside Gus, who was seated back in his chair, having returned to his book and cooling cup of coffee.

Frowning and resting the book on his knee, Gus reached into the bag, grabbing the first thing inside. He pulled out a teal colored cable knit jumper. “Oh.” He cooed, brows going up as he nodded.

“That's very kind. Thank you.”

“Mmhm.” Edmund grunted, leaving him to change and get back to his work.

Gus stood, closing the cellar door the rest of the way, and shed his tattered shirt, replacing it for the jumper, the wool rough on his skin. He rummaged through the bag, finding fresh underwear, pants, socks and shoes. Even a pair of pajamas! He stripped and put on the clean clothes and felt a sight better for it. His old shirt and boxers still smelled of the sea and made his skin itch.

A knock sounded on the door, as he was pulling on the socks and boots.

“Come!”

“Oh!” You started, but smiled at him. “I see my brother managed to do what I asked of him.” You said, a plate of food balanced in one hand.

“He did.” Gus nodded, smirking up at you. “Thank you. It was kind of you to think of it.”

“Of course.” You replied shyly, eyes darting away for a second. “I brought you breakfast.” You quickly recovered, holding the plate out to him, then removed utensils from the pocket of your apron. “Do you need a refill on your coffee?”

“It could use a warming up.” He picked his cup up and turned it over to your awaiting hand.

“Back in a snap.” You chirped. “Are you ready for your breakfast, Edmund?” You asked, on the way to the kitchen, pausing to watch him pull a pencil from behind his ear and strike a mark on a board he was measuring, on two saw-horses.

“Just bring me down a plate.” Edmund answered, too distracted to look up at you as he adjusted his measuring tape. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“All right.” You nodded, knowing that set in his shoulders.

Going back to the kitchen, you pour Gus's cold coffee down the sink, pull a cup down for Edmund, then turn towards the percolator that rested on the counter. Removing the lid, you pulled out the metal coffee basket and carried it out to the small garden you had, just like Edmund and Willa, where you tapped the damp, used coffee grounds into your compost bin.

The percolator set up for a fresh pot of coffee, you grabbed one of the plates sitting on the kitchen table to portion out the eggs, toast and sausage on it. You missed having a fruit with your breakfast, but with supplies what they were and being rationed, fresh produce were spares. But, the marmalades you were able to get periodically helped dull the longing.

For a little while, at least.

“Papa, do you want marmalade or butter on your toast?” You called out, plucking his piece of blackened toast out of the toaster oven, just how he liked it.

It was the same with his meat as well. Mael would have his steak, pork chops and every other type of meat blacker than shoe polish. You hadn't understood why, when you began cooking for your family. But Edmund had explained it to you one night, after your father complained three times his lamp chop wasn't done enough, though you were beginning to worry there would be nothing left of it, by the time you did get it where he liked it. Apparently, growing up his mother could never properly cook meat, either under-cooking it or burning it to a crisp.

“Do we have any marmalade left?” He called back.

“We do!” You replied, opening the refrigerator, to pull out the two small, glass jars of Rose's marmalade. “We have a tiny bit of the Strawberry left and Remi sent over some Ginger this morning.” You informed him, reading the label.

“I'll have Ginger then, Peanut.”

Nodding, you put the Strawberry back and muscled open the Ginger, spreading it over his toast and getting some on your fingers as you worked it to the edges. Giving a couple of your fingers a cheeky lick, humming at the sweet, but warm and spicy stickiness on them, you brought your father's food over to him, kissing the top of his balding head.

“Any movement on the Eastern Front, Major?” You inquired, cocking your head at the map he had spread out on a folding table he set up in front of his chair.

He had been listening to the radio about current movements, or mostly lack thereof, on the bloody fighting between the Axis powers and Soviet Union. His map was marked with different colored pencils and he had some sort of symbol system set up for himself to follow, that you hadn't fully figured out. What you did know was the Red and Black lines were the Russians and their Allies. Blue and Green were the Axis. The Skulls, you learned very early on, were the dead zones, where neither side gained or lost any ground, no matter what they did. Crosses were some of the heaviest casualties, and Arrows were meant to show any movement either side managed to make. But there were several others you and Edmund just couldn't make heads or tails out of.

Neither of you wished to ask either, in fear it might cause him to go into a tirade. So, simple questions were always the best.

“None, Peanut.” Mael replied, as he leaned forward with a red pencil and added a new Cross somewhere on the Northern edge of the Front, making your stomach sink.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat. “I'm glad to hear it.” You rasped, squeezing his shoulder, before numbly returning to the kitchen, putting your plate back into the cabinet, appetite ruined.

“Dinner was delicious.” Gus commented, wiping up the remnants of the stew you had simmered throughout the day with his last bite of bread, popping it into his mouth with a complimentary moan.

“I'm glad you think so.” You smiled, holding your hand out for his bowl. “Um...” You floundered for a moment, pivoting on your hips as you glanced around. “I put clean towels in the bathroom upstairs, if you'd like to go up and take a shower. Edmund is back home with his wife. My father is asleep and it's almost curfew for the village.”

“I would greatly appreciate some time under the hot spray of a showerhead.” He replied, looking up at you, his eyes soft.

“It's all yours then.” You nodded, moving towards the door. “When you're ready for it.”

“I'll be up presently.” He cooed, standing gingerly, grabbing the pajamas that you and Edmund had supplied him.

Tossing the garments over his shoulder, Gus headed upstairs, mindful not to make boards creak as little as possible. Popping his head out the basement door, he saw your father dozing in his armchair, chin resting on his chest with his glasses balanced perilously on the tip of his nose. He heard a clink and moved forward a step, discovering you at the sink, washing his bowl and spoon.

“Is that a mouse, I hear?” You teased, glancing at him with a smirk.

“More the size of a rat.” Gus jested back, standing beside the kitchen table.

You giggled aloud for a second, before you covered it and looked over at your father. “I'll show you upstairs to the bathroom.” You said, drying your hands and motioned to the stairs. “How's your wound feeling?” You asked, following him up, glancing at the spot of his back where you knew his stitches were.

“Sore.” He sighed, pausing at the top to look at you. “That doctor makes a tight stitch.” He quipped, turning to follow you down the hallway.

“Better a tight stitch than a gaping wound.” You joked back, pushing open one of the doors and stepping aside for him.

“True enough, my darling.” Gus smirked, meeting your eye for a long moment, seeing the shy, sheepishness creep into your eyes and your bottom lip get caught between your teeth.”Thank you for the use of your restroom.”

“Of course.” You nodded, glancing away from him, then scurried back downstairs.

You pulled a clean fitted sheet and pillowcase out of a cabinet, the aroma of the laundry soap on the fabric greeting your nose as you hugged them to your chest. Edmund had managed to complete a more suitable and sturdy bed for Gus on his day of work, bringing over the mattress from his and Willa's guest room to top it. So, while Gus allowed himself the comforting luxury of washing up and getting ready for bed, you went down and dressed it for him. Sure the feeling of clean clothes on clean skin would help him get an extra good night's sleep.

“There, all ready for him.” You grinned, fluffing his pillowcase, then went back up to finish your other chores, before it was time for you to go off to bed. “Shoot.” You snapped, finding your father's chair empty and darted upstairs, to find him.

You reached the top of the stairs as your father came out of his room and Gus was exiting the bathroom in the gray striped pajamas, a towel draped around his neck. Your father caught sight of you first, seeing the wild and startled look in your eyes, his grayed brows wrinkling with confusion for a half-second, until he finally noticed Gus, who stood frozen in the bathroom doorway.

“Who in God's name is this man!” Mael snapped, his coffee-colored eyes hardening with alert outrage.

“He's-!” You floundered, head whipping between the two men. “He's—um..”

“I work for your son.” Gus answered calmly, his eyes giving you a quick look of knowing, instilling you with a burst of encouragement.

“Yes, Papa.” You nodded at Gus, your head slowly turning to your father, still bobbing. “He's helping Edmund build the shelves downstairs and with the repairs around the house.” You elaborated to him, smirking. “He's from the next village over though, and the curfew was set before he could head back home. So, Eddie and I suggested he stay here. He was just showering before heading off to bed.”

Mael squinted at Gus, his jaw moving gently side to side as he chewed on his lip.

“Papa, you should be off to bed.” You cooed at him, softly, resting your hand on his arm. “It's late.” You hoped to guide him back downstairs to his chair and get Gus out of his sight, at least until you talked to Edmund in the morning. “How do hotcakes sound for breakfast tomorrow?” You hummed, glancing back at Gus, who winked at you.

“Good, I suppose, Peanut.” Your father answered, only semi-distracted away from the stranger he found in his home.

“All right.” You smiled, tucking his blanket around him and lifting his legs to slide the ottoman under his feet. “I'll have some toasty and buttery, hot cakes for you, in the morning.” You whispered, kissing his forehead and watching him fall asleep, then rushed back upstairs. “I am so sorry, Gus! I didn't expect him to get up. He usually calls for me, if he wants something from his room.” You apologized, wringing your hands.

“No, no!” Gus shook his head, reaching out and grasping your hands. “This is your home and you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry, I've thrown you and your family into such disarray.”

“It's all right.” You gulped, feeling the heavy warmth of his rough hands against your skin. “These are chaotic times, we're in.” You told him, heart fluttering. “We should get to bed, by the way. Tomorrow comes early.”

“Indeed it does.” He agreed, his skin tingling. “Especially, for the help.” He joked, lightly.

You chuckled back, dropping your eyes to the hallway runner. “I'll have to let Edmund in on that bit of information, when he comes over and before our father gets a hold of him.” You said, imagining how that conversation was going to go.

“Well, I'll wish you a good night.” Gus said, dropping his hands from yours, but inclined his head forward. “Peanut.” He added, with a playful wink, then excused himself.

Your cheeks blazed as you stood in the hallway, the heat of Gus's touch still lingering on your skin and the ring of him calling you by your nickname in your ears. It took a long moment for you to recover enough to resume your tasks and go to bed.

#henry cavill #viking-raider fics #Salt in Our Wounds #viking raider fics #Salt in Our Wounds *fic*#Fluff #Language #Protective brother #Gus x Reader #Gus x You #Gus/You #Gus/Reader #Gus & You #Gus & Reader #gus march phillips #Gus march phillips x Reader #Gus march Phillips x you #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare

92 notes · View notes