#go light some fires demigod
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Fuck it up Jay Ferin
#I miss her#jay ferin#jrwi riptide#just roll with it riptide#typography#go light some fires demigod#tw fire#jrwi jay#jrwi#jrwi fanart#wings#griff art
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it's getting hot in here - c. la rue
warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read
summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.
hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue
word count: 1.3k
taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte
from this post !
a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy!
men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni
It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.
And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.
Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction.
In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day.
She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.
Something about you entranced her.
She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion.
Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely.
As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.
It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.
The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette.
She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway.
Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence.
The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.
“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus.
And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.
Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.
Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.
After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.
Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.
“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.
“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.
Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands.
After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed.
“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.
Or so you thought.
“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”
#🖋️ nvir writes#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x fem reader#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse la rue x fem!reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue pjo#clarisse pjo#cabin 9#daughter of hephaestus#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo tv
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luke castellan x fem!reader
You knew that your friend, Luke, was a tease. What you didn’t expect, was that he was going to be a tease to you.
while I finish writing part two of this story (btw, thank u so much for all the love it’s getting) , I drop this one out here for the wait <3
warnings: teasing, praising, drinking, kinda s3xual tension
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
The bonfire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the demigods huddled around it. The air thrummed with the low beat of stolen music from a borrowed radio, a symphony of laughter and easy conversation punctuated by the clinking of ice inside your plastic cups. Exhaustion from a particularly harrowing week of monster attacks had finally settled in, driving the older campers to this clandestine revelry deep within the safe haven of the camp's woods.
Across from you, Clarisse was emerged in a play-fight with his brothers, not truly a good idea based on the drunken state they were in, but who would tell them otherwise? Travis and Connor were huddled together, their whispers punctuated by bursts of laughter that hinted at some upcoming evil plan or prank. You could practically see the gears turning in their heads. Silena leaned towards Katie’s ear, whispering some secret that boys couldn’t know about, her voice barely a murmur.
And Luke Castellan sat next to you, his presence warm and familiar. His profile bathed in the golden glow. You'd known him for years, a bond forged in shared battles and late-night training sessions. But lately, you'd begun to see him in a different light. The way his muscles tensed beneath his t-shirt as he tossed another log onto the fire, the glint in his dark eyes - it all sent a delicious flutter to your stomach.
Reaching for your empty plastic cup, you realized with a groan that you'd polished off your cranberry juice and vodka concoction. Glancing sideways at Luke, you noticed his cup held a suspicious-looking red liquid that gave off a pungent, almost medicinal smell. "Let me have a sip of yours" you declared, leaning towards him without even questioning.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. Your cheeks, flushed from the alcohol and the warmth of the fire, were undeniably red. Your lips, slightly puffy and wet, was not something his eyes would miss either. But he'd never admit the effect you had on him, not here, not amongst their friends.
"Not sure that's your thing, doll" he pointed out, looking down at his drink for a second. "You won´t like it"
You knew you were pushing your luck, but the defiance simmering in your blood, thanks to the vodka, wouldn't be ignored. "Come on, Luke" you pout, placing your chin on his shoulder. “If you can drink it, why can´t I?”
He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I don't think you can handle it" he said with a little smirk on his face, the playful challenge in his eyes impossible to miss. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but a spark of competitive spirit ignited within you.
“Oh, yeah?” you challenged. “Just watch me, then” you declared, snatching the cup from his hand before he could protest. You were so sure of yourself. The liquid was a fiery red, the strong scent even more potent up close. You took a tentative sip.
It was horrible.
It was like drinking liquid fire infused with cough syrup. A strangled cough escaped your lips and you sputtered, your eyes watering. Luke chuckled slightly. You sputtered, almost spitting the liquid out in disgust.
Before you could fully react, Luke's hand cupped your chin, surprisingly gentle despite the rough calluses that adorned his palm. His eyes held a mischievous sparkle. "Take it all down now, you told me you could handle it"
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way his words sent a thrill down your spine, but you were determined not to back down, especially not in front of him. Fueled by a mix of pride, the burn of the liquid fire, and a strange flutter in your stomach thanks to Luke's closeness, you took another swig, then another, determined to finish it. You ignored the way your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper and the fire that seemed to erupt in your gut.
Suddenly, a loud "Chug! Chug! Chug!" broke the silence. Travis and Connor, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, started a rhythmic chant. Silena and Katie soon joined in, their cheers echoing through the clearing. You choked down the rest of the concoction, gasping for air as it burned its fiery path down your throat.
The cheers reached a crescendo as you slumped back, eyes squeezed shut, your head swimming. As the commotion subsided, you dropped the plastic cup with a clatter. You felt dizzy, and your throat felt like someone had lined it with sandpaper, but a sense of accomplishment washed over you. You'd done it.
Suddenly, a gentle touch on your chin startled you. You blinked your eyes open to see Luke leaning in, his gaze holding a playful spark. With his thumb, he brushed away a stray droplet of the red liquid that had escaped your lips during your valiant chugging endeavor.
The simple gesture sent a jolt through you. It was so unexpected that your breath hitched in your throat. Then, in a move that stole the air from your lungs completely, he lifted his thumb to his lips and sucked off the red droplet. Eyes on yours, the whole time.
"Good girl" he murmured.
He turned away then, casually rejoining the conversation with Chris about their upcoming training session. But you couldn't tear your gaze from him. The playful glint in his eyes, the lingering warmth on your chin from his touch – it all played on repeat in your mind.
Gods, you thought, your head swimming from a potent mix of alcohol and newfound desire. You really wanted to be anywhere else right now. Anywhere with him, away from the prying eyes and teasing laughter of your friends. You felt crazy in the matter of just a few seconds. You couldn´t let this slide, you just couldn´t.
You couldn´t deny the wet patch on your panties either.
You stood up, maybe a little too fast for the state you were in, but you managed to look down to Luke, who was already looking into your eyes the moment you stood up.
“I´m going for a walk. Care to join me?”
inspired by this right here, with a little change <3
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#luke castellan smut#pjo series#pjo#luke castellan x you#luke x reader#luke castellan one shot#luke castellan fic#luke castellan imagine#pjo x reader#pjo x you#pjo smut#luke castellan x female reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan imagines
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excerpt from an in-progress "the Core Four gets a clonebaby and it's not even Tim's fault" fic
Kon has a bruise on his face and is bleeding from the mouth and has a four year-old sitting on his hip all wrapped up in his studded leather jacket. Tim finds seeing him bleeding more concerning than the sight of the kid, because while Kon isn't necessarily the first choice to comfort the traumatized civilians, he's done it plenty of times and he'll no doubt do it plenty more.
Also, like, the whole street is on fire. What, is he gonna put the kid down?
The kid is barefoot and wearing a white bodysuit, it looks like. They have pale skin and fluffy black chin-length hair and huge hazel eyes–a hazel that's practically yellow in the light of the burning street, it's so bright–and they're small and slender, but also surprisingly muscular for their age.
And surprisingly alert, Tim can't help but notice. Their eyes are subtly darting around, hypervigilant to a fault, and they're visibly just clocking things. They've already threat-assessed him, Cassie, and Bart, and they're obviously watching out for anyone else and simultaneously keeping an eye on the guttering flames and broken ground and surrounding street in general.
The bad guys left out here are technically all down and thoroughly zip-tied into submission, but the kid assesses them all too, one by one.
Tim gets a weird itch in the back of his brain, and Kon brings the kid over to the rest of them.
Their eyes aren't hazel, Tim realizes. They actually are yellow.
A very specific, familiar yellow.
"What's with the kid?" Bart asks, narrowing his very specific, familiar eyes curiously. "Like, why are you bringing the kid, I mean, not 'why does the kid exist?' That's a different question, obviously, like really why do any of us–"
"They're ours," Kon says.
Bart stops talking.
"Um?" he says.
"What do you mean they're 'ours'?" Cassie says.
"Show 'em that thing you showed me, kiddo?" Kon asks the kid, patting their back. They nod solemnly. Then they vibrate into a blur that phases right through Kon's arms, leather jacket and all. Kon makes no effort to catch them, apparently because he knows it's unnecessary, because a second later the kid is floating up into the air over all their heads.
Tim blinks, very slowly. Tilts his head.
Kon wiggles his fingers at the kid, who noises very quietly and reaches down to grab at his hand. Kon grins up at them and holds his arms open, and the kid settles back into them . . . not warily, exactly? But very definitely uncertainly. Like it's something unfamiliar.
Not like Kon is unfamiliar. Like being held is unfamiliar.
"Okay, huh," Bart says. "Well that sure was the Speed Force."
"And that sure is a Greek demigod," Cassie says.
"Sure is," Kon says agreeably. "And I'll give you two guesses as to where the attached unenhanced human DNA came from, Boy Wonder."
"Kon, what the hell?" Tim says in bemusement. "What even . . . what, exactly?"
"Remember that weird green light earlier?" Kon asks conversationally as he pets the kid's back. "The one that just kinda flashed all up in your respective businesses while I was inside punching asshole scientists after the comms got fried?"
"Yes," Tim replies warily. "I assumed it was supposed to be some kind of distraction."
"It was a DNA scanner," Kon says.
"Ah," Tim says, and wonders how the hell he's going to explain this to Bruce.
"Apparently, these shits decided the best way to handle invading superheroes was to just copy their DNA and then make speed-gro clones who could counteract their abilities," Kon says, jerking his head back towards the TTK-ruined remains of the lab. "With, obviously, a healthy side of brainwashing and indoctrination programming uploaded directly into their developing brains. But literally everyone and their mother underestimates the range of TTK, so I kinda just broke the lab and now, welllll . . ."
"So the kid is a Greek demigod with a Speed Force connection and a Bat-brain?" Cassie asks.
"Apparently," Kon says, nuzzling the kid's ridiculously floofy black hair. "Sorry, kiddo, I'd have given you TTK if I'd gotten the option, but we made the fatal error that is splitting the party. Then again, now you won't wanna puke if you ever run into kryptonite, so could be worse? And also you not getting TTK meant I was on deck to save you from getting grown into a teenage superweapon, so that was probably worth it, right? Like, not that we wouldn't have let you join the team in that case, but clone to clone, I hear actual childhoods are kinda cool and all."
Well, Tim thinks it's safe to make some assumptions about why Kon said "they're ours" and not "they're yours".
"Huh," Cassie says, looking bemused.
". . . honestly I just can't believe this isn't Rob's fault," Bart says, darting over to peer more closely at the kid, who frowns at him.
"I'm not that bad," Tim protests reflexively. The others all give him pitying looks. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not!"
"Yes you are," Cassie says dryly, then steps in closer towards Kon and the kid too and smiles at them. "Hey there, little guy. What's your name?"
The kid stares blankly at her, then curls up tighter in Kon's jacket–and, probably not incidentally, his arms–and presses in closer against him.
"No," they say. Cassie blinks.
"'No'?" she repeats in confusion.
"Babe, they're five minutes out of the cloning tube," Kon says wryly. "They don't have a name."
". . . we should fix that," Cassie says. "Like. Immediately, let's fix that."
"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Kon agrees. "Any suggestions?"
"Are you a boy or a girl?" Tim asks the kid, because at this age it's hard to tell. He's assuming boy, since two male gene donors to one female, but who knows, really.
"I'm a clone," the kid says, looking at him like they think he's stupid.
"Gender-neutral name it is," Kon says, clearly unconcerned by that very concerning response.
"Max?" Bart offers immediately and unsurprisingly, visibly perking up. Which, well–not the worst name for a speedster anyway, Tim supposes.
"Blake," Cassie suggests. "Avery, Channing, Charlie, Aubrey, Kirby, Morgan, Sage, Shiloh–"
"You're hanging out with Cissie a lot again, huh," Bart observes.
"Like you're not?" Cassie huffs, tweaking his nose before continuing with: "Ash, Casey, Jo, Sam, Maddox . . ."
"Alex?" Tim tries, mostly because Cassie's offering a lot of unusual-sounding options and that might not be ideal.
Bart and Cassie eye him. Kon raises an eyebrow in a very Luthor-esque fashion.
Tim experiences the five stages of grief and quickly moves on.
"Uh, or Jace," he says. "Or . . . Harley?"
Wait, those are terrible too.
"No," the kid says, frowning at all of them.
"None of those sound good?" Kon asks them. The kid's frown deepens and they press closer against him, still eyeing the rest of them just a little bit sullenly.
"I don't want one of their names," they say with obvious distaste, and also much clearer annunciation than a typical four year-old would have. "I want one from you."
"Oh," Kon says, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, okay, kiddo. Um . . . you sure?"
"Yes," the kid says.
"Okay," Kon says, and tightens his grip on them a little. And then, surprisingly quickly–"Kenley Elliot. And we can hash out your last name later, that's gonna have to be a later thing. How's that sound? You want it?"
"Yes," the kid repeats, and then throws their arms around Kon's neck and squeezes. It looks a bit closer to a chokehold than a hug, but Kon a) is a half-Kryptonian clone, and b) clearly doesn't care.
"Cool," he says, and swallows a little roughly. "Okay, well, that's squared away. Let's get the fuck out of here before some asshole with a badge tries to take custody of Kenley."
Tim did not miss the "Kent" and "El" concealed in either of those names, or how quickly Kon had them to hand. Not as quick as Bart had "Max", obviously, but . . .
Very quickly, all the same.
Alright, then.
#superboy#dc robin#wonder girl#dc impulse#young justice#rinfic#long post#wip: yj accidental baby acquisition
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In my Feelings
Luke Castellan
Summary: You find Luke talking to another girl and after taking action it backfires on you and now you might lose the love of your life...
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Angst, fire, arrows being shot, hair burned off, threats, Luke being a douche and terrible boyfriend, sad reader, humiliation, drama, anger, reader being a badass, that's all enjoy!
Previously:
He faced your body away from the door and shielded you with his body that way if Chiron came in, he wouldn't see you.
"I got my eyes on you my pretty girl. Won't let anything happen to you baby."
He finally drifted off to sleep letting his dreams flow like a river, a river full of love and happiness.
He finally had a peaceful and loving dream rather than a nightmare. And he was grateful you were the cause of his fantastic dream.
Now:
Three weeks later your walking around Camp half blood and it's cooler than normal. Maybe it rained and brought cool breeze but the sun was still shining.
You were walking towards archery as this will be the first time you go back ever since the "Incident". The incident where that boy came onto you and when your heard Luke confess his love for you offically.
You both were now in a happy relationship that's been going on for a month now and personally, you think it's the best thing in the world.
He's handsome, smart, very sneaky, and a total goofball, but he's your goofball and that's all that mattered to you.
As you were walking towards archery you saw Luke there and your face lit up and you started smiling, but that smile sooned dropped when you saw him with a girl. It wasn't just any girl, it was Candice.
She was a demigod child of demeter, she was also head counselor of Cabin 4. You didn't mess with her or get on her bad side because you didn't want poison ivy in your bed sheets or some type of flower to put you to sleep.
He was laughing with her and she was touching him and was too close for comfort, way to close for your liking anyway.
You felt a little hurt, he never liked Candice, he always hated the way she acted so prissy and stuck-up. Those stuff he told you were clearly lies if he's laughing with her and letting her touch him like that.
You stared at the both of them before Clarisse and Percy came up to you. You and Clarisse became closer friends and you helped her and percy settle their differences, there not friends but they tolerate each other.
"What's up? You look sad." Percy asks, his face contorting into one of worry. "Luke and Candice. At Archery. Look." You say in pieces not even able to say a proper sentence. They both look to where your pointing and see what you see.
You hear Percy sigh and you can feel Clarisse roll her eyes. "Candice was always a bitch anyway, and Luke was too good for you. Let's go, it's almost lunch." She says grabbing your arm to try and turn you away.
You stay in place and look at percy, he has an apple in his hand. "Hey can I borrow that for a second? Thanks." You say not waiting for his reply and snatching the apple from him.
You hear him protest in the distance but just walk closer to the two. "Hey Candice!" you shout not even acknowledging Luke, you were pissed now, but you didn't wanna show it.
A couple of other campers were aware of your presence and were nosy enough to want to see what was happening.
"Oh, hi! What's up!?" She shouts but as you get closer, your nice facade drops. "Hold this apple and put it on your head and stay fucking still, got it?" You demand before finishing off your sentence with a charming smile.
Clarisse and Percy give each other a knowing look and sit back and watch not even attempting to stop you.
Candice, looking like the confused girl she is puts the apple on her head anyway and stands still. You smile at a little girl before asking if you can borrow her bow and arrow.
You get in position and hold it out, but of course you wouldn't be you without a little flair. "Light it up please." you ask politely. Candices smile drops and she gets scared.
Someone rushes over and lights the tip of the arrow on fire and you smile and thank them. "uh I didn't sign up for this." Candice says moving a bit. "Didn't I tell you to stay fucking still? You signed up for this when you decided to flirt with my fucking boyfriend." You snap back.
You ready the arrow and release it causing it to hit the apple but what you didn't expect was for the fire to burn some of candices hair in the back. Luckily Luke put it out with some water. She screamed and stormed off before looking at you one last time.
'She had it coming.' you thought. You looked at Luke, rolled your eyes and walked off before he could even chase you. You walk up to Percy and Clarisse and wrap your arms around them, "Anyone hungry?" You say with a smirk on your face. You and Clarisse laugh and Percy smiles.
It was a couple hours after the incident and Chiron decided to make an example out of you, in front of everyone.
"Y/N Y/L/N and CANDICE CAPONE! Come up here now!" He yelled, silencing everyone and making all their heads turn towards you and Candice. Your eyes darted around before they fall on Luke.
You were still angry but that anger would soon turn to sadness. You looked at Clarisse and then Percy and the Annabeth and lastly, Grover. You smiled at all of them as they had worried expressions because they've never seen Chiron so mad.
You walked up and Candice stood on the other side of Chiron. You two stop in front of each other but looked at Chiron. "You, y/n y/l/n did something extremely unexceptable. You shot an arrow at a fellow demigods head and burned her hair. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He asked
"Yes, yes I do. Candice Capone, I'm extremely sorry for what I did. It was not nice and completely unfair to you. I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't think that was going to happen. So for that I'm sorry. Do you accept my apology so we can put this shit- sorry, this situation behind us?" You said.
You didn't actually mean it but you had to make it sound believable before you get stuck on horse duty for the rest of the week, month even. She stared at you for a few minutes not saying anything.
At that point you got tired of standing up there and was ready to sit down. "I accept your apology but I do have one thing to say to you. That's exactly why Luke doesn't even like you anyway."
The whole room gasps. Everyone literally knows you and Luke are the IT couple, you guys were perfect and everyone kew how much Luke loved you, or so they thought.
"He is so sick of you and your constant complaining, your random outbursts and just the way you always bother him with wanting to do cutesy stuff together. He said your annoying and he wants you off his back." She says with the evilest smirk on her face.
You were on the brink of tears. "That's all, but I do accept your apology because now we're even, you embarrassed me, I embarrassed you." She says before walking away to go sit down.
You stood there in complete shock. You know you shouldn't have believed it but lately the signs were coming back to you. Luke had an attitude with you yesterday because he was tired and you wanted to go swimming, you ended up going with Percy and Annabeth, and Clarisse tagged along for the fun of it.
You watched as everybody looked at you. Your eyes were dark and your expression emotionless. "Hey Candice, when your hairs all gone tomorrow and you can't grow it back, I'm gonna see whos embarrassed now. Watch your back." You threaten.
Her smile drops and you try so hard not to grab something to throw at her fucking face. You loom at Luke and that's when the tears come down. 'Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't. Fucking. Cry.' It repeats over and over again in your head but it's not working.
One tear falls and then you run off before anyone can say anything. You didn't wanna be in your feelings because then you would go into this isolation where you avoided help and avoided everyone.
You hated this and god why'd you have to be such a cry baby. You hated when you got in your feelings.
Why couldn't Luke just say something. ANYTHING! He just sat there, didn't even try to come after me and comfort me and tell me it's all a lie. Instead he sits there like a fucking jakcass and does nothing.
You wanted to drown, get struck by lighting, died in a war full of men or maybe just died in your sleep. Anything is better than this feeling. Anything is better than being in your feelings.
Slowly drowning in a pool you can't get out of. Stuck in a time loop of constant nightmares that fuel your overthinking and negatively shut you down physically and mentally.
'If only there was a way to get out. If only I could stop being in my feelings.' you thought...
Taglist: @elaratckker @lizziesfirstwife @angelicdanvers @prettyinsatiable @angelinajolie0213 @maryann2013 @kneehe-nehar7 @rhydianissuperior @urmomsbananabread @reader-bookling123 @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @csifandom @repostingmyfavs @leo-lvr @glorywielder101 @aanoia @madelainelupin16 @ahh-chickens @callsignwidow @murdrdocs @bright-molina
A/N: i'M SORRY THIS ONE IS SO DEPRESSING STOPPPP! dw though they'll have their happy ending and their happily ever after in the last and final chapter! Love you guys and thanks so much for the support! MWAH💋
~COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE NEVER ASKED FOR BUT MUCH APPRECIATED~
#luke castellan#luke castellan fanfic#pjo luke#luke castellan fanfiction#lukecastellan#luke castellan imagines#luke castellan x reader#pjo series#luke castellan x you#luke castellan angst
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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:
⚒ HEPHAESTUS: God of Forges, Fire, Sculpture, Metalworking, Stone Masonry, Carpenter, Metallurgy, Artisan, and Volcanoes 🔥
author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]
When you get claimed, there are a bunch of cheers and impromptu fireworks from your half-siblings. You watch some unfortunate individuals near your siblings jump feet in the air with hands flying to their ears, and some people diving for the ground.
When you get introduced to your new living arrangement, there is a spillover from the Cabin and the Forge & Armoury; where there are just random parts in the Cabin and cots and bedrolls next to the Furnaces. You didn’t know where the living quarters or the forges began and ended.
There is an initiation at your cabin where you introduce yourself to your cabin mates with your craft. It could’ve been the first craft you ever made, your favourite invention, or make it an entirely new thing.
You get your own little workspace and for some hint of cohesion, your workspace is assigned a category; based on your craft. If you’re an engineer, you’re put with the other engineers. If you’re an artisan, you’re put with the other artisans.
You’re constantly surrounded by people sharing their ideas or inputting, even at dinner and during bed times. But careful saying which stuff out loud lest you get a complaint from Chiron when you and your siblings have a debate on the best way to make something.
Because of the furnaces, you are shown how to keep the furnaces running when it's technically bedtime; one the exceptions given to your cabin for curfew. Because even though they have magical means, you can’t let the furnaces die out or you have to spend three days heating up the kiln all over again. And no, you’re not allowed to use Greek Fire or later, the dragon around Thalia’s tree to heat up the furnaces if they die out. Don’t ask why but all you know is the Ka-Boom incident. You can imagine why.
A perk with being on duty is that you can stay up later than everyone else and get to sneak in some late night meals; your seniors treated you to stuff from s’mores, roasted potatoes, and other foodstuffs by using the furnaces. Just don’t make too much stuff or you’re going to have a bunch of campers at your cabin asking for goodies.
Work hazards are always around and while there are preventive measures in place, things happen. These range from inventions going haywire, exploding fire, or just normal accidents. Don’t feel bad if they happen, everyone immediately jumps in to help out. You learn how to move fast and think fast.
Being a Child of Hephaestus and being part of the cabin have their overlaps with the Athena, Apollo, and Hermes cabin.
If you don’t have the power to manipulate fire, as a child of Hephaestus you still have a higher immunity of fire and heat. Paired that up with the engineering, your cabin is also the unofficial fire station. You jumped with the fire alarm went off in the cabin and everyone got up to grab gear to put out the fires at Camp.
There were exploding multicolour lights that were going off in the air. Some were like the regular fireworks you’ve seen, but then there were fireworks that reminded you of that scene in the Lord of the Rings movie: where the fireworks seemed to not only come alive but move like they were. The smoke of gunpowder filled the air and you coughed. Fireworks were still going off as the children of Hephaestus were still cheering.
You then saw a large burky boy step forward and you knew he was one of your half-siblings. He looked very imposing but as he looked at you with a smile, all initial fear disappeared and you saw the warmth behind his smile. He then grinned at you and held out his hand, “I hope you liked the fireworks, we do this all the time when we welcome those into Cabin 9. I’m Charles Beckendorf, Cabin Counselor.”
You took his hand to shake and you instantly could feel the calluses on his hand, and how comforting warm it was. He clapped you on the back as he led you towards your cabin, as the others followed.
#pjo fanfic#pjo imagine#percy jackson and the olympians imagines#pjo#pjo imagines#child of hephaestus#hephaestus#children of hephaestus#charles beckendorf#charles beckendorf imagine#pjo fic#pjo x reader#demigod imagines#demigod#demigod headcanons#demigod h/cs#pjo reader insert#cabin 9#hephaestus cabin#percy jackson and the olympians imagine#percy jackon and the olympians
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HEROES OF OLYMPUS FANS
idea: young adult argo II crew being bamfs
i would sell my soul, and my best friend’s soul, and my sister’s soul, for rick to write a book with the argo II crew as young adults and just being absolute icons in a totally experienced way. no more questioning themselves like when they were young. they’re powerful and confident and nothing surprises them. they’re famous in the demigod world. they’re legends. they know what they’re doing. no one fucks with them.
i would have it start out kinda like how TLO began with percy and beckendorf’s mission. it would be like those movies where the main characters are breaking into some facility. only it’s some monster/olympian-enemy using said facility as a secret base for their operations (kinda like the amazons.)
it’s night. they’re all in dark clothes. annabeth and frank planned the whole thing. percy casually causes a massive explosion via a nearby water tank or something, causing a distraction and making everyone in the facility run out to see what’s going on. annabeth has the whole place mentally mapped out, and her and leo disarm every security system measure in like 3 seconds. frank turns into some kind of animal - maybe a monkey - and climbs/hops across the walls and ceilings, destroying the security cameras and sensors. any guards/civilians running past them only see what hazel wants them to see. and every monster who gets in their way is dead within seconds - they should not have messed with these demigods. piper plays on the fear of the guards to easily get information out of them. annabeth gets the objects they need, and then leo lights the entire place on fire. percy and leo can’t be burned, but percy protects the rest of them by triggering every sprinkler they walk under, which then turn off when they walk away. they calmly walk out through the front doors of the building - which is now up in flames - where there are dozens of police officers and firefighters and news channels around. they should be arrested/surrounded, except hazel manipulates the mist to make them all look like police officers and first responders. and frank is now a german shepard, a police dog, to really sell it. anyone who approaches them, piper uses charmspeak to throw them off. and just to be sure the enemy base is destroyed - and now that everyone is out of the building - percy causes a targeted earthquake, making the entire huge facility crumble to the ground.
then they just casually walk into the night, away from the mass chaos that they caused. the base is completely destroyed, but their enemies can’t figure out who did it or how it was done.
little do they know that the ones who did it just walked in and out, in plain sight.
#no one say a word about who’s missing#but wouldn’t this be AWESOME??#like they’re all just a bunch of bamfs#i love them#legends#percy jackson#annabeth chase#piper mclean#leo valdez#hazel levesque#frank zhang#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#SOMEONE SEND THIS TO RICK#rick riordan
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THL but Percy doesn't go anywhere.
He and Annabeth are patrolling the Camp boundaries and hear something.
They go to inspect it, hear a roar and that silence.
Jason stumbles towards them, terrified.
He looks like he's been running for days, his clothes are wrecked, he's littered with injuries.
And he's missing his shoes.
He reaches out to them in panic and says something neither understand.
Before blacking out.
Waking up in the infirmary with no memory of how he got here.
Nor any memory of who he is.
He struggles to speak and manages to clumsily write "Jason" on a notebook but that's all.
Piper and Leo came to camp around 2 months ago are getting to know this crazy world and their new lives.
Piper, not content with how the Aphrodite cabin is being looked down on.
And no one wanting to teach her how to fight.
And it being Clarisse of all people who ends up mentoring her.
Some say its out of respect for her old friend, some say its because Piper reminds her of her.
Leo, getting to know his new siblings but he tries and fails to keep them at arms length.
He refuses to use his fire.
And has not told anyone about it's existence. For the fear it will ruin everything like it always does.
But it's getting harder to keep it a secret.
And maybe part of him... Wants to believe it's a blessing and not a curse.
Their paths cross when Jason starts to have dreams about a woman calling for his aid.
Because he's not the only one having them.
Cue Percy cursing in the corner.
Jason while he can speak he sometimes struggling with his words.
And sometimes makes barking noises.
Grover thinks he could be of the wild but has no idea what or how.
Because while Jason doesn't have a strong scent, it's definitely of a demigod.
Perhaps he was blessed? Not that Grover can see it.
But it's not the biggest thing to worry about.
Though he has sent like... 3 people to the infirmary from biting them.
They startled him.
... So there's that.
Piper and Leo are trying to figure out their dreams together with Jason.
But he's having other other ones they aren't getting.
A wolf calling out to him.
Saying that the God's have stolen her pup and she will have him returned.
Jason doesn't know who she is but she feels familiar.
They manage to piece togrther that the woman is Hera.
Annabeth calmly gets up and punches a hole in the wall.
Because... Of course it's Hera.
When the, annoyance somewhat fades away Percy wonders why no one from Olympus has said anything.
They ask Mr D but he has no idea what they are talking about.
Jason can't help but feel the wolf in his dreams seems familiar.
And he feels the same way when the hunters of Artemis show up and the eyes of their lieutenant fall on him.
Thalia knows it's him.
She tells Annabeth as much.
"It's him, it's Jason."
"Thalia..."
"I know it's crazy, I know it's insane but it's him... Its him..."
"Okay, if you say it's him."
She doesn't get to confront him on it until during Capture the flag.
"Jason! Jason please, it's me?"
"I'm sorry I don't..."
Thalia wants to scream but she doesn't, she needs to be calm.
It's him.
She knows it's him.
Their attacked by campers and from being distracted she's knocked down.
A rage fills Jason that he hasn't felt before.
... He knows her...
Lighting bursts from his body in all directions, shocking the now scared campers away from Thalia.
"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"
He rushes past, helping her up.
"Thalia?"
"You.. You remember me?"
"A little... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I forgot."
She makes a sound that's a mix of a sob and a laugh and pulls him into a hug.
He hides his face in Thalia's shoulder not liking the attention. When he realises everyone is looking at him.
Or rather above him.
At the lighting bolt above him.
"All hail, Jason Grace. Son of Zeus, King of Olympus, Lord of the Sky. God of Thunder, Lightning, Kingship, Honor and Justice. All hail Jason Grace, son of the Lighting God."
Everyone's talking about what?! Zeus had another child?!
The chatter dies down when Rachel, who upon seeing Jason, glows bright green and da da da daaaa the oracle has entered the building.
Child of lighting
Beware the earth.
The earth giants revenge the seven shall birth.
The dove and the forge will break the cage.
And death unleash through Hera's rage.
Quest plays out and Jason gets his memories back.
Remembers that he's the son of Jupiter
Returns to camp.
And a lighting bolt appears overhead, this time with a numeral beside it.
For 1.
Chiron smiles sadly, taking it as acceptance to share the truth.
Tells the story of the Roman and Greek demigods.
"And our Jason, is not the son of Zeus but his Roman counterpart Jupiter."
Everyone reels taking in this information.
And while many are suspicious of the Romans, Jason has become a good friend and ally to them.
"Lupa said... That I must return... Maybe that's the next step?" Says Jason, standing tall. "Woah, hey we're not gonna let you alone." Says Percy, "agreed" Says Annabeth, Piper and Leo nods.
"I'm not losing you again." Says Thalia.
Not happy by Hera's explanation of having to keep them seperated.
Jason smiles warmly "than we shall go. To Camp Jupiter, together."
"Togrther!"
#Idk this is a mess#jason grace#heroes of olympus#thalia grace#percy jackson#annabeth chase#piper mclean#leo valdez#clarisse la rue#the lost hero#feral jason grace
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wwwhho up thinking abour jrwi riptide who up thinking about the fact that they didnt see drey at the end of ep 115 who up thinking about the fact that lizzie is doomed in practically every scenario who up thinking abour the prophecy who up thinking about. who up tihnking about "dont die again, hey?" who up thinking about "go light some fires demigod' who up thinking about "get moving sureshot" who p. who up thinkgi ng. gaukjhmy4tws..................
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You asked for Solangelo asks, so…. HEADCANONS GO!! Everything from little outings there went on, Nico meeting Naomi (assuming you HC her as alive), small things they do to annoy each other, angst, etc. literally anything!! Go wild!!
i am shaking like a feral animal with too much energy and no outlet omG
Will hurt his wrist once when he was younger, practicing archery with Lee. It was a delicate thing, the way Lee wrapped him up with an ace bandage and smiled at him. "You did good! It's okay." A golden smile that managed to stop Will's tears. He's older now. He can't remember the last time he hurt his wrist. He wears an ace bandage every day of his life. His siblings, the younger ones that weren't there to remember, question him. Will smiles and ruffles their hair "It's okay! Everythin's good, don't worry bout it." Some part of him wonders what Lee would think.
Will is actually good at many things. Healing and medicine is his main focus, but that's because it's the only thing he thinks he's good at. Many demigods, many of Will's siblings, have one specific thing that they excel at. Which is why Will feels so horrible that he's not good at anything. He is though, he's just too thickheaded to realize that. He sings well, maybe not as good as his siblings or his mom or whoever else, but he's got a good campfire/lullaby voice. Soothing and warm, crackles like a fire or a candle light. Calming, always skewed by a smile. If he could only hear himself...
Will gets tattoos for every patient he doesn't save. At first, the idea had come up to him because he couldn't stop thinking about it. The feeling of blood wouldn't wash off his hands, every time he closed his eyes he could see that strain in their face... He needed to do something about it. Then it became something to help him remember. New campers come every year, and they don't know the stories of those that passed before them. It feels unfair, to let those people's memories fade. So for each patient he can't save, Will gets a singular black line tattooed on his forearm.
Will is very good at volleyball. I have nothing else to say about that. (well, maybe I do. I like to think that Nico sits off by the sides of the court, a step in "water boy" for Will's team. He gets so distracted, though, he may as well not even have the title. Kayla and Austin tease Will about his "cheerleader")
Will uses petnames and nicknames like it's the only thing he knows. Kiddo, sweetheart, hun. Tacked on to the end of every sentence. It's not anything big when he starts coming up with nicknames for Nico, that's just how Will is. Nico, however, doesn't understand nicknames. He doesn't know how they're supposed to be used, when it's appropriate and when it's not, how close you have to be to a person to use a nickname. It's a big deal, the first day Nico calls Will "sunshine." Not a teasing statement, like it normally is, but tied on to the end of a sentence. Nico stutters over the word, his cheeks flushed red. Will stops what he's doing to stare at Nico, slack-jawed.
Nico doesn't like to sing. He doesn't like to talk, really. His voice is raspy, he can imagine it grating on the ears of those he speaks to. It makes him nervous. Will loves Nico's voice. Nico doesn't ramble much but, oh, when he does... Sometimes Will asks Nico specific questions that he knows to get a rise out of the boy, just to hear him talk
Nico was very nervous to meet Naomi. Will loved his mom (mama, he calls her) very very much, that was obvious to everyone. With more time to relax, Nico tries to dig up memories from his past. He doesn't remember everything, but he does remember how much he loved his mother. How beautiful she was, in her fine dresses, perched on a chair watching her children. She was a proper woman, manners were a necessity, etiquette was too. In some was, Sally Jackson reminded Nico of his own mother. A knowing smile, the tilt of her head when she spoke to you. But other than that, she was so different. Nico doesn't know how to act around Naomi. He had already asked Will on a date, had already come out to the whole camp, before Will suggests going to Texas for a few days. It brings Nico a bit of peace, knowing that he'll have the chance to ask Naomi for her permission to date her son. But it terrified him regardless. The conflicting emotions gave him a headache. Will thought it was sweet that he cared so much.
Contrary to popular belief, Nico does not cuss. He has a very vivid memory of his youth, messing with Bianca and saying very specific words just to annoy her. His mother had heard and made him wash his mouth out with soap. Percy cusses, casually enough, but never in front of an authoritative figure. Nico frowns at him when he does, and Percy laughs. Jason doesn't cuss, but he uses just about every filler word known to man. Reyna doesn't cuss, but she doesn't have to. The change in her tone, her composure, is scary enough on it's own. Hazel doesn't cuss. At least, not until she's angry. She has the foulest mouth Nico has ever heard. Will cusses like it's no bodies business. Strings of foul words in a southern drawl yelled as someone walks into the infirmary on Will's day off. Nico gasps the first time he hears Will speak like this.
ugh and there's more in my brain but i feel like i've already said too much so here you go!
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I wanna smoke with Angron so we can get high and he eats me out
This one's for you and @undeaddream. I can fix him, (puts a bong in his hands) (sorry this came out on 4/21, the edible was sensational though)
Summary: You smoke a bowl with Angron to try to get the nails to stop hurting him.
Word Count: 1865 (oops)
Content Warnings: drug use, sploinkin' (nsfw), this is my first time writing Angron so I tried, blood, more "good girl" talk because I go absolutely apeshit over it, what I assume is rough sex, female reader so sorry if one of my lovely requesters is not a girl, I can write another version where you smoke him out and it doesn't get wild (like this at least)
Image Credit: @squishyowl (doubly tagging you because you did want an Angron fic at some point. Teehee!)
There wasn't much outdoor space in the Imperial Palace. You were situated on a bench big enough for Primarch or human, on the terrace at the top of your client's wing. It was far overgrown and untrimmed, it was clear that not many visited this area. The single moon of the planet was out tonight, tinged slightly yellow. There was a slight breeze, and you closed your eyes as you felt it on your skin. You had a job to do, the largest one you've ever had at that, but it was nice to be outside tonight.
"You here?" you heard someone bark from behind you. You snapped your head around to see none other than your client, a man--no, demigod-- by the name of Angron. Steel implements extruded from his head, and he bore a pained expression. Scars adorned his face and neck; the rest of his body was obscured underneath brass armor. He was accompanied by a few of his sons, helmed men equipped with bloodstained armor.
"I'm here," you replied, shrinking back into your flesh. He was large, very large. You'd heard of his temper; if you were to mess up even once, you would likely be ripped in half.
No matter. You pulled out your equipment. You had a bottle of water, a funny-looking glass implement, a fancy little lighter with an imperial Aquila on it, and a grinder full of a green flower cultivated on ancient Terra. You were one of the only researchers on the planet that dealt with ancient botany. You were told sometimes that you were one of the best, but if you were to come into contact with Angron, you were clearly more disposable than the others had let on.
He stared at your materials, coming in closer. "What's that."
"Oh!" you exclaimed. "The glass thing is a bong, and--"
"What kind of name is that."
"It's..." you started, your face going warm. Oh no. "It's just what the ancient Terrans called it."
"Do you think it'll help?"
You paused, and looked up at him. His eyes were garnet red, and he stared with an intense expression. He fiddled with his gauntlets a little bit.
"I'm not sure, to be quite honest," you replied. "But it's safe, and trying it will at least not hurt. Unless..." you paused, looking at him. "On second thought, you might need to take bigger hits than me."
"...You're supposed to hit it?" he asked, looking at the glass tool. As he wound up to throw a punch, you put yourself between it and him.
"Not like that!" you exclaimed. "It's how you inhale the smoke. See, you're supposed to mash up the flowers, put them in the bowl and burn them while you inhale."
"And this is supposed to make me feel better?"
"Well... maybe," you said. "It's not going to hurt you to try, at least!"
"If you say so," he sighed, rubbing his temples as you prepared the first bowl. You ground up more of the bud. When it was finally shredded, you put it in the bowl. You felt his stare at your side, but you didn't know whether it was at you or your equipment.
"Here's how you do it," you said. "You put it up to your lips, and inhale..." your voice became muffled as you put it to your lips. You stroked the lighter a few times before a flame came out, lighting the shredded flower on fire. As you inhaled, you felt smoke filling your mouth. When you felt like you couldn't bear it anymore, you exhaled.
"And... exhale," you said, a substantial cloud of smoke leaving your lips.
"Just like that?" he asked.
"You may need to inhale for longer, but yeah," you said, handing off the bong. "Here. Take a hit while it's still burning."
He put his scarred lips to the mouthpiece and inhaled, far longer than you could. He exhaled, a cloud more befitting of a man of his statue escaping him. His furrowed brows raised, and he nodded a little bit.
"Can you light it up again?"
You lit the bowl up as he inhaled again. This time he held it in a little bit before he let it out. You'd debated on telling him whether holding it in would do anything, but he would probably be okay... okay as he could be, at least.
"I..." you started as the pungent cloud hit your face. "I think we need to put more in the bowl." You gestured to the bowl, which was beginning to deplete. You looked up at Angron, whose expression was starting to relax further. After you'd taken a hit, you passed it to him.
The next few hours became a blur. You'd passed the bong between the two of you, getting higher with each puff. At some point, he'd pulled you in next to him, putting a heavy arm around you while you were smoking. You leaned your head on him, the metal cool against your flesh. Soon, one of you put the bong down between you.
"Leave now," he barked at his sons. They immediately turned around and went through the door at the other end of the terrace.
"How are you feeling?" you asked, one of his hands running through your hair.
"Not great," he admitted, "but better."
You looked up at him. His sclera were reddened, but yours didn't feel much. Despite how high you were, you'd been smoking long enough that this wasn't an issue anymore. He was looking down at you with something you hadn't seen in him before. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on. You saw him lean down to your level and plant a kiss to your lips. You put a hand to his armor and leaned in as he added his tongue, barely fitting in your mouth. He was rough, unpracticed. After a while, he pulled away, grasping for your hands. His expression was still stern, but there was a reverence in his eyes that you hadn't seen before.
"My Lord?" you asked, shivering in your seat.
"Angron," he corrected you. Even his voice bore the scars of his previous life, something you've all but heard of. He got up and knelt in front of you, still towering over you. He then went in again, his large hands grabbing at the fabric of your shirt. You let out a pitiful moan as you lifted your arms, letting him take it off of you along with your bra.
He bit your bottom lip, and you let out a little cry, grabbing for his shoulders. He wasn't gentle, and you knew that it was going to leave a mark later. He pulled back. A little bit of blood fell out of your skin, and he smirked. He pushed your hands back with his, pushing them behind your head as he bit you lower and lower, sometimes drawing blood.
"Be careful," you cautioned as he stopped at your nipple. He swirled it in his mouth as he looked up at you, grinding it with his teeth, but thankfully he did not draw blood there. He did the same thing on your other side, and you cried out, your hands tightening around his armored ones.
He bit your on your stomach a few times before he tugged at your pants. He shifted a little bit, hitting the bong with his knee and knocking it over. You looked down there for a moment. It wasn't broken, praise the Emperor. You raised your hips, and he pulled them off roughly, ripping them in some areas along with your underwear. He leaned over to snarl in your ear, giving you goosebumps.
"Good girl," he said, prying your legs open. Moans led to shrieks as he began to feast, roughly rubbing your apex as he held you down by the waist. He explored you as you came on him for the first time, trembling under his touch.
"Nngh... Angron..." you moaned, grabbing at the sides of the bench. As you were working your way up to your second climax, he pulled away.
"I may need to pull off my armor for this one," he said, peeling his gauntlets off first. You watched as each piece came off, falling to the grass with a loud thud each time. He ripped off his bodysuit, leaving the tattered fabric on the dirt. He was just as scarred over the rest of his body, scars trailing along everywhere. As he knelt down in front of you again, you absentmindedly touched one of them rippling across his chest. He grabbed your wrist, and your heart stopped in your throat.
"I'm sorry--" you started before he led your hand along the scar.
"This one was from right after the nails," he said, an almost-grimace on his face. He trailed your hand to another one. "And this one was--"
"Are you sure you want to get into this?" you asked, your other hand shakily finding its way to his face. He leaned into it, not unlike a cat would, and closed his eyes.
"You may be right," he said, his hands finding their way onto your shoulders. His grip was tight and rough, even this was going to scar you. "Let's finish the job then." He had a smirk on his lips as he moved his hands to open your legs again. You whined as he rubbed himself against you, before finally slipping himself in.
He immediately went in as far as he could, eliciting a little scream from you. "A-Angron!" you exclaimed as he pulled himself out before ramming himself into you again. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, and you grasped for anything you could reach before your hands trailed towards his chest.
He grabbed your waist, pulling you off of the bench and onto his lap. He sat up as you straddled him, pushing you on and off of him. Your eyes rolled back in your skull and your face lay against him. He wasn't gentle, you knew that you were going to feel it the next day. You came on him a second time, shivering as he sped up with you. He started grunting as well, a deep, guttural noise.
Not long after he came in you as well, twitching inside of you. You felt each twitch as he filled you up. He remained in you, but there was a little bit of white liquid coming out of you. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your head into his chest as he panted. You wrapped your arms around him as well, but you couldn't reach your way around him. He ran a hand through your hair as you spoke.
"Are you doing okay?" you asked, your voice small and tired.
"Please, let's do this again," he rumbled.
You had done your job somewhat, but you weren't going to tell your higher-ups that you had relations while on the job. In fact, you might lose your place if they found out. Sure, you had the backing of a Primarch, but your superiors might still have a problem.
You ran your hands along his back. "Of course."
#warhammer 40k x reader#primarch x reader#reader insert#angron x reader#angron#warhammer lobotomy#i hope i didnt do him dirty lol#to be fair you both were on copious amounts of weed#HAPPY 4/20 YOU MOTHER FUCKERS
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(Notes on names and translations below poll. Click the read-more link to see, for example, why "star", "noble", and "silver" were used in options.)
I can't be the only person who thinks "Elf-man" is a terrible name, right? Like, I get it Elrond, your family tree is a giant mess and you're like half elf, three-eighths man, and one-eighth demigod, and everyone you know love naming their kids with the same first letters as their own name (thanks for that, Tolkien, I just love trying to keep all those Fi- names in the Silm straight), but maybe you could have broken with tradition and given your boys slightly nicer names? It's not like it's Latin, either, where most people have forgotten what the words actually mean; this is your everyday language here.
At least Elrond and Celebrían wised up by the time Arwen came along, though "Noble Maiden" still isn't very creative. I think Elves just might have something to learn from Mormons in this case.
Pictured: definitely not Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien.
Anyway, translations for Elrond's family's names and where I got the names for the poll choices after the cut:
Elladan and Elrohir (Elrond's twin sons)
The name Elladan is Sindarin for "Elf-Man" or "Elf-Dúnadan," referring to his dual descent from both Elves and Edain (a name given to those descending from the three houses of Men from Beleriand).[15] It comes from the words el ("elf or star") and adan, singular of Edain.[16] On the other hand, Elrohir means "Elf-knight", but rochir also means "horse-lord".
Elrond (Elrond)
Elrond is a Sindarin name that means "Star-dome" or "Elf of the cave", from el ("Elf" or "star", interchangeably) and rond ("cave, vault").[17][18][19]
Celebrían (Elrond's wife)
The name Celebrían means "Silver queen"[6], from the Sindarin words celeb ("silver") and rían ("queen").[7]
Arwen (Elrond's daughter)
The name Arwen means "Noble maiden", from Sindarin ar(a) ("royal, noble") and wen ("maiden"). Her epessë Undómiel means "Evenstar", from the Quenya Undómë ("evening twilight") and el ("star").
Elros (Elrond's twin brother who chose to be mortal and founded Middle-earth Atlantis and was, for the record, much better at naming children than his brother)
Elros was a Sindarin word that meant "Elf of the spray", from el ("elf" or "star", interchangeably) and ross ("foam, spray").[8][9] The name came from the Quenya word Elerossë.[10]
And while we're all here, epessë:
The epessë or the "after-name" is the third type. The after-name is given later in life, but not necessarily by their kin, as a title of admiration. In some circumstances, the epessë is chosen by the Elf himself or herself. An Elf could be referred to by any of the three, but the epessë typically took preference.
Galadriel is the Sindarin translation of Alatáriel, the latter being the Telerin epessë originally given to her by Celeborn. Galadriel means "Maiden Crowned by a Radiant Garland". The name itself is an epessë: her father-name is Artanis (noble woman) and her mother-name is Nerwen (man-maiden).
The poll choices were created using this Lord of the Rings Elf name generator. I tried to make sure I picked the Sindarin options, in keeping with Elrond's family's clear preference. I primarily used the "meaning" option, but you could also specify "starts with 'el'", "male", and "Sindarin elvish names" to turn up a list of names like Elunaer ("Light blue bridegroom") or Elanorchanar ("Star sun flower brother").
Although the generator has obvious limitations due to the nature of Tolkien's conlangs, it's a lot of fun to play with. Just be careful or you'll next find yourself on the Parf Edhellen (Elvish dictionary) and from there it's just a hop skip and a jump until you're in a discord chat trying to figure out how to properly conjugate "knitting" or something.
Finally, just because I have always loved this paragraph, a quote from Bigger Things by Blossomwitch on Ao3:
Most people had trouble telling the twin sons of Lord Elrond apart. Gimli did not share this problem. True, they were very similar physically, but to Gimli the difference was plain. The one hanging all over Legolas like the Mirkwood Prince somehow belonged to him was Elladan; the one with enough sense to keep his paws off other people's elves was Elrohir. Simple enough.
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Episode 4 thoughts (spoilers)
This was by far my favorite episode.
the bonding scene on the train was refreshing. Like, we needed that.
In general I like the dream sequences. I like tiny percy. The beginning swim lesson bit with percy and sally I didn't like as much, mostly because *surprise* I like that Percy Jackson is the son of Poseidon, and I thought it was annoying that they added that scene without us witnessing some tiny percy powers. But that's just me.
I miss the poodle scene. "I said hello to the poodle."
I wish so badly that percy was the subject of the nation wide man-hunt. Like, that was one of the reasons why this quest is AWESOME. Plus, it brings nasty gabe back to the picture. I have a feeling that they aren't going to kill him in the show. Probably sally will just leave him. Wah
I liked when they ran from the train. Like yeah, they're freaking demigods. They're gonna look a little odd most of the time.
I liked echidna. I liked her and the chimera. I get tired of the long ass monologues by the villains. Like, just fight already. Or give me some action. there's so much cool stuff to add from the book that I literally don't care about echidna except for the fact that she calls her chimera "sonny" and also that she tells percy to "prove his bloodline" as he dangles from the arch, laughing at him because he doesn't believe Poseidon will save him.
I liked how Annabeth started talking about architecture. Changing the plot so that the arch was a temple that monsters couldn't enter, and she pissed off athena by mailing the gorgon head... like, that did nothing for me. but okay.
I liked the bit about the centaurs being a metaphor for the plains' buffalo, and the emphasis on the plains tribes. South Dakota is my home and out here we stan.
I liked how percy tricked them and made them go down the elevator. that's some good percy vibes right there. props to the team, lol.
The fight scene with the chimera was lame, but at this point, who's surprised. Also, I literally cannot deal with how lame they made riptide. LIKE SERIOUSLY. THIS WILL BUG ME TILL THE END OF TIME. GIVE HIM A REAL FUCKING SWORD. IT LOOKS SO STUPID. sigh. okay.
The scene of percy falling from the arch was dope.
The scene in the mississippi was cool (so far). I really want the bit where he takes the old wet plastic wraps and lights them on fire. But I doubt it will happen considering that in the previews for next week, I see annabeth hugging a very wet percy. Sigh.
I want percy powers. give them to me! I feel like the writers are somewhat undermining percy as the main character and it's driving me a little nuts. I looooovveeeeedddd leah's performance (all of them) in this episode, but there really are a lot of bits where it doesn't feel like percy is this singular threat, who stole the fucking lightning bolt. THEY HAVEN'T EVEN MENTIONED THE LIGHTNING BOLT AGAIN. the gods think he's a fucking thief, and there's a whole ass mystery to solve . whatever.
Simply saying that percy is the "forbidden child" doesn't make it so, when all the monsters are so fixated on annabeth, or literally ANYTHING but the quest. it's kinda weird.
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i'm pretty sure this is how toga sees herself (but, of course it's because of how society saw her) - a grotesque parody of a femininity. the last two chapters were about how toga was unable to actually love herself, hence why she asked ochako if ochako thinks she is cute and has that relieved look on her face when ocha tells her that she's the cutest. she wants to like herself and be happy with the way she is.
On the risk of sounding idiotic, I'm to say that the League of Villains is my favorite part of bnha for the way Horikoshi sells what essentially is a group of unadaptaded social failures to the readers.
On the risk of sounding pretentious, allowe me to apply terms like "mythological" to the symbolism of the League of Villains, terms like "visceral" to the emotional execution of their arcs. By that of course I'm referring to the archetypes Horikoshi chooses to select for them, the tropes he plays with. The oldest son who despairs when his father denies him his heritage. The young maiden who is lovely and joyful but by her power is perceived as an ugly evil hag. They boy king chosen and named by misfortune.
But so much more.
Horikoshi assigns the metamorphosis trope to Tomura so it can symbolize his awakening to real evil, but he simultaneously uses the same image to stablish AFO'S influence over Tomura, nothing but a butterfly on a spider's web. Patricide and matricide and horror offsprings, kids that work as bad omens, men that look like living corpses and later bloom in beauty representative of malice.
He uses motifs like the maiden, the mother, the crone on Toga, themes of monstrous femininity as perceived by society. Cannibalistic sparrows bursting out of her belly in dreams, Toga shaving her skin and it melting all around her every time she shapeshifts, the very-on-the-face picture of Toga as a twisted old witch towering over Ochako. Female emotions naturally perceived as threats for being irrational or erratical. Obsessive love and apparent vanity guiding her actions.
Dabi's the jealous brother, the fallen prince, he's the orphic messenger emerging from the depths of the underworld to share the judgment of the Hades. He's called a demon. All the Frankenstein references, his desperation among ice and snow, the liturgical aspect of the name he choose: Dabi, cremation. Horikoshi dresses him in white to go to the final battle, changed the color of his hair like the changing of seasons, made him cry blood.
When the Leagues of Villain suffers, the pannels look almost biblical, ritualistic. It's the mythos of it all, for me.
Like when Curious held a bloody Toga in her arms, speaking of martyrs and journalistic storytelling, Toga made some sculpture from the renaissance for the way her limbs hanged, the light illuminated her. She was Jesus Christ dead on Virgin Mary's arms in that panel, cold, lifeless, tragic. She's the fallen angel coleric eyes staring at her enemies from over her shoulder/arm. She's Judith with the head of Holofernes, she's the "witch" getting burn on Salem for something though they saw thought they heard throught did happened.
It's the stigmata on Tomura's hands, the father (AFO), the son (Tomura) and the holy spirit of them both (the original quirk of AFO himself). He's the demigod proving himself on trials so he can obtain the blessing of his divine father. He is the twice orphan coated in darkness when the triumph finally comes. He got an town kneeling in front of him, swearing loyalty; he is a prisoner of his own body, his entire life is surrounded with hands as if to remind it how there was no one to save him now or then, except for the devil he had to make a deal with.
Dabi is Icarus, wings on fire falling to the ocean, he is the son of Icarus, repeating his mistake once again. He is Phaeton on Helios chariot, burning as he descends, threatening as he rides to burn the heavens and freeze the earth. He's Cain trying to kill Abel, he is Esau, fighting to get his birthright back. He's the prodigal son, he's Lazarus coming back to life, he's Judas himself selling Twice for what he thought was a good deal, he's the angel raining fire on the sins of men.
On the risk of losing my mind, those are not only vehicles of the narrative to convein meaning, but it's also what them (Tomura, Dabi, Toga and all the members of the League of Villains), have been feed by society. I deeply apologize for ranting on your ask, anon, but you're so right it inspired me.
We know Horikoshi made a whole point of telling us AFO is obsessed with comic books and most recently, he presented through a flashback of the League the idea that the internal storytelling of bnha is quiet important to the development of the plot. Heroes and villains are a narrative the enemy used to create to identify their rivals, something that later evolved from comics to real life. When Toga rejects taking a name, it's the same as when she rejected becoming just a story for Curious to write or AFO to guide. When All Might and every other hero talks about the League, is always on those weird narrative guidelines.
So what Ochako does is rejecting that narrative creates by society, getting pass all the lies and all machinations and judgement and prejudices and all the expectations, so she can finally reach the real Toga. Similar to how we see Endeavor asking Touya to tell him how he feels. He wants to hear it from him, to listen and comprehend now that he's ready, he is getting rid of all that cultural baggage that's not working, cleaning the dirt from his eyes. And what Deku is yet to do: find Tenko among all the darkness and barriers AFO created on Tomura and pull him out.
Touya, Toga, Tomura, they were deep within the narrative, incapable of saving themselves 'cause they were incapable of seeing past their trauma and hurt. Therefore, the importance of the UA kids recognizing the falsehood of the morals of the hero society and changing those in time to save not only the world, but the victims such beliefs had left.
HOLY SHIT THIS BECAME AND IMPROVISED META SORRY ANON. YOU DID NOT ASK FOR ANY OF IT OMG. YOU WERE ONLY ANSWERING MY TAGS ON A PREVIOUS POST. SORRY SORRY
#I have two modes: either I don't respond at all or I write an entire small book as a response#sorry :(#shan's asks#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#league of villains#lov#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha 393#toga himiko#dabi#tomura shigaraki#toya todoroki#touya todoroki#tenko Shimura#bnha manga spoilers
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little angsty story about a child of hestia that i might write a full fic about (from their claiming to the very end) at a later date.
how sad would it be if a child of hestia thought that their mother loved them so much. and compared to the relationships of other gods and their children, lady hestia is doing amazing.
but after years of being the backbone of camp, taking care of all the kids there, with some inner urge to protect and cultivate a family. taking on all of their worries, fears, insecurities, trauma as well as their accomplishments, dreams, happiness, etc. this child is tired.
they are tired of having to pick up the slack for gods that have been told over and over again to take care of their kids. (a war was fought, cmon guys). the gods can split their being into multiple pieces to do things all over the world but they can’t send a part of themselves to spend a day with their kids?
and the kids can see this. they see that this one demigod (as well as their older siblings) are the ones who have been actually raising them. the gods may show up every few months (maybe twice a year) but that isn’t the same as crying on their shoulder when you have a nightmare or having someone to show the high score you got on your test. they start placing their loyalties somewhere else.
and one day, this child of hestia realizes that something isn’t right. that their mother hasn’t been responding to their prayers and seems to be avoiding them at the fires around camp. their mother, who was once their guiding light in this messed up world, is distancing from them. and it all comes to a head.
the gods are scared of how loyal their children are to this one demigod. this child of hestia has been practicallly raising this camp full of kids (bc chiron and mr. d can only do so much) since they turned 16 and this child has the entire camp in the palm of their hand. they know what might happen if the gods did something to this child, all of their children would riot.
yes, many of the demigods love their godly parents, but how can you be loyal to someone who is never there? they weren’t there when you broke up with your boyfriend. they weren’t there when your best friend didn’t come back from a quest. they weren’t there when you finally got that bullseye. they weren’t there.
so the gods need to do something. they promise their children that THEY wouldn’t harm this child. they say they need to be separated. it’s not ok for so many of you to see this one demigod as a parent. it’ll do everyone some good for this child to leave for awhile.
outside of that throne room, no one knew where exactly this child would go. they knew that if they killed them, their children would be lost from them forever. but they can’t let the child stay, could they? so they got rid of them.
sent them somewhere where they could be retrieved at a later date to appease their other children. and what better place to send someone who you want gone and where no one else could find them? deep, deep down under the earth.
when the verdict was made, the child knelt there in the throne room. hands bound and the energy in the air making the hairs on their arms and neck stand. when they tried to make eye contact with their mother, she looked the other way. Lady Hestia is the goddess of family and the hearth, and she had made her decision.
she may love her child, but she has to do what’s best for the entire family. and so she says nothing.
#pjo#pjo headcanons#pjo headcanon#pjo au#godly parents#percy jackson#child of hestia#pjo angst#angst
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Excerpt from an interview with Ted Kaczynski (aka Unabomber) in which he recounts his day to day life in the forest:
BVD (the interviewer): What was an average day like for you in Lincoln?
TJK (Ted Kaczynski): That’s a very difficult question to answer because I don’t know that there was an average day. My activities varied so much according to the season and according to the tasks I had before me on a given day. But I will describe a representative day…
TJK: …Well, let’s take a day in January, and let’s suppose I wake up about 3:00 a.m. to find that snow is falling. I start a fire in my stove and put a pot of water on. When the water comes to a boil I dump a certain quantity of rolled oats into it and stir them for a few minutes until they are cooked. Then I take the pot off the stove, add a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and some milk—made from powdered milk.
While the oats are cooling I eat a piece of cold boiled rabbit meat.
Afterward I eat the oats. I sit for a few minutes before the open door of the stove watching the fire burn down, then I take my clothes off again, get back into bed, and go to sleep. When I wake up, the sky is just starting to get light. I get out of bed and dress myself quickly because it’s cold in the cabin. By the time I’m dressed there’s a little more light and I can see that it’s no longer snowing and the sky is clear. Because of the fresh snow it should be a good day for rabbit hunting. So I take my old, beat-up, single-shot 22 down from the hooks on the wall. I put my little wooden cartridge-box, containing 16 cartridges, in my pocket, with a couple of books of matches wrapped in plastic bags and a sheath knife on my belt in case I have to build a fire in an emergency. Then I put on my snowshoes and take off. First there’s a hard climb to get up on top of the ridge, and then a level walk of a mile or so to get to the open forest of lodgepole pines where I want to hunt. A little way into the pines I find the tracks of a snowshoe hare. I follow the trail around and around through its tangled meanderings for about an hour. Then suddenly I see the black eye and the black-tipped ears of an otherwise white snowshoe hare. It’s usually the eye and the black-tipped ears you notice first. The bunny is watching me from behind the tangled branches and green needles of a recently-fallen pine tree. The rabbis is about 40 feet away, but it’s alert and watching me, so I won’t try to get closer. However, I have to maneuver for an angle to shoot from, so that I can have a clear shot through the tangle of branches—even a slender twig can deflect a .22 bullet enough to cause a miss. To get that clear shot I have to lie down in the snow in an odd position and use my knee as a rest for the rifle barrel. I line up the sights on the rabbit’s head, at a point just behind the eye…hold steady…ping! The rabbit is clipped through the head.
Such a shot ordinarily kills the rabbit instantly, but the animal’s hind legs usually kick violently for a few seconds so that it bounces around in the snow. When the rabbit stops kicking I walk up to it and see that it’s quite dead. I say aloud “Thank you, Grandfather Rabbit”– Grandfather Rabbit is a kind of demigod I’ve invented who is the tutelary spirit of all the snowshoe rabbits. I stand for a few minutes looking around at the pure-white snow and the sunlight filtering through the pine trees. I take in the silence and the solitude. It’s good to be here. Occasionally I’ve found snowmobile tracks along the crest of the main ridge, but in these woods where I am now, once the big-game hunting season is over, in all my years in this country I’ve never seen a human footprint other than my own. I take one of the noosed cords out of my pocket. For convenience in carrying I put the noose around the rabbit’s neck and wrap the other end of the cord around my mittened hand. Then I go looking for the trail of another rabbit.
When I have three rabbits I head home. On arriving there I’ve been out some six or seven hours. My first task is to peel off the skins of the rabbits and remove their guts. Their livers, hearts, kidneys, brains, and some assorted scraps I put in a tin can. I hang the carcasses up under the shelter, then run down to my root cellar to fetch some potatoes and a couple of parsnips. When these have been washed and other chores performed—splitting some wood maybe, or collecting snow to melt for drinking water—I put the pot on the boil, and at the appropriate time add some dried wild greens, the parsnips, the potatoes, and the livers and other internal organs of the rabbits. By the time it’s all cooked, the sky is getting dark. I eat my stew by the light of my kerosene lamp. Or, if I want to economize, maybe I open the door of the stove and eat by the light of the fire. I finish off with a half a handful of raisins. I’m tired but at peace. I sit for a while in front of the open door of the stove gazing at the fire. I may read a little. More likely I’ll just lie on my bed for a time watching the firelight flicker on the walls. When I get sleepy I take off my clothes, get under the blankets, and go to sleep.
BVD: I envy you, too … While work, that does sound wonderful.
Freedom and autonomy. No time clock to punch, whether literal or figurative. But let me shift topic. You just mentioned sleep. Was your bed, or bunk, comfortable?
TJK: Well, it was comfortable enough for me.
#unabomber#nature#diy#preparation#alternative#handcrafted#resources#forest#anarchism#night in the woods#woods
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