#it’s like his story quest to me. you know.
Text
COMPLICATED
LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies
pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab)
word count: 8.9k
summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth
warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;(
author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡
♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne
i.
in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.
which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.
it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.
"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?"
you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response. it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.
after another beat of silence, you take the lead.
“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”
“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.
a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.
“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”
“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.
“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests.
almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same.
with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.
you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:
“it’s not her.”
he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.
for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters.
according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you.
“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — "
annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —
well, percy can’t help but admire you even more.
"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”
“everything else?”
you look at percy like the answer is obvious.
“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.”
that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.
“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.”
“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.”
“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.”
you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed.
“what? you never told me that.”
“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”
“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”
you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.
“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”
again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too.
“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”
“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”
percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.
deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.
he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.
—
ii.
if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.
“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.
“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side.
“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”
“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”
“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges.
“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”
“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”
luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even.
“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”
“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”
in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.
“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”
“i just want to be prepared.”
“prepared for what?”
luke hesitates. “just….the future.”
“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”
“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”
“oh my fucking gods — ”
grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults.
when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him.
and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles.
lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.
that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.
then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst.
like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods.
“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”
luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.
“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”
you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.
and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.
“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”
grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory.
he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.
—
iii.
annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely.
all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.
unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other.
annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.
she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.
but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.
as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name.
luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.
all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.
you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve.
annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.
luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first.
“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”
annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like.
as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand.
maybe that’s a good place to start.
“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?"
"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."
"would you go to school?"
you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.”
“what about luke?”
your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."
"luke needs you."
you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask:
“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”
and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry.
“how did you —”
“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun.
“well, nothing’s confirmed.”
you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”
annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.
"what's holding you back?"
“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares — that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”
“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”
you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.
“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping."
"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks.
you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more.
"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”
"oh," is all annabeth can say.
“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."
annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it.
before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.
luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.
when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again.
"that sucks."
“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important."
"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"
"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers. "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”
“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”
the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs.
“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”
you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight.
"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.
annabeth hums.
"how much of that did you hear?"
luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.
—
iv.
you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.
luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin.
“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot.
“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”
“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.
“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke.
luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you.
“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point.
and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.
none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves.
you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”
luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.”
“they went alone?”
“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”
“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.”
luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies.
“don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.
it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed.
“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”
you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you.
“nothing,” he answers instinctively.
“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter.
“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”
“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”
“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?”
it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky.
“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.
of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.
“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”
“then what is it?”
“noth—”
“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”
the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.
so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is.
for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks.
dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander.
the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches.
but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.
working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created.
he did it for you, even if you won't understand.
he'd do anything for you.
so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch.
—
v.
in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.
gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned.
you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm.
“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers.
“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”
“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”
a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for.
“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke.
for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him.
and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense.
you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through.
“you never told me about your dad.”
ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.
you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it.
“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.”
you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.
“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.
“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”
“that’s….that’s different.”
“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”
“which is?”
you debate telling luke the truth.
it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.
“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit.
another pause, this time from the other side of the bed.
“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”
you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.
“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”
“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”
in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling.
“always so dramatic,” you tease.
deep down, you know you’re not much better.
luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.
it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t.
truthfully, it still scares you.
“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”
you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.
"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."
he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.
"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?
"luke —"
"i have to sort it out on my own.”
"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”
another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything.
eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:
"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up."
"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."
you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.
"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."
luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more.
"do you really mean that?"
his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away.
“of course.”
you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body.
neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.
you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later.
for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more.
it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time.
eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers. instinctively, you start rutting against him.
“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong.
luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin.
“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”
“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”
“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”
you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”
“good girl.”
your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go.
you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.
it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians.
secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.
"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.
you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers."
luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there.
"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says:
“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.
luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal.
as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again.
you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.
“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you."
in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”
sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time.
this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep.
you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.
with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you.
"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?"
all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words.
you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.
"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop."
you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.
"y-yes, luke."
"are you mine?"
you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.
you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.
"i'm yours," you promise.
luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.
satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours.
it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.
the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high.
luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.
“did you just —”
the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.
"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."
luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.
"you’re so fucking hot."
your heart flutters.
“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.”
he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating.
“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "
"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself.
maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do.
you want more. you need more.
"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"
"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought.
you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.
"shit. i don't have another one.”
"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.
you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you.
"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"
“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."
luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:
“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?
before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face.
"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."
you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer.
"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings.
luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed.
"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”
luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."
you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours.
made for each other.
you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too.
“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck.
“don’t,” you command.
“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.
“i just want to feel you this once.”
he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet.
luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before.
even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.
this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.
wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —
“are you okay?”
his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.
you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach.
"i didn't hurt you, did i?"
“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”
luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.
“you’ve never said that before.”
“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.
luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.”
your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.
“oh, shit.…”
you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully.
of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.
because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job.
“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”
luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."
"you do?" your heart resumes its beating.
"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”
“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”
“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"
"they like the smell of begging."
luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek.
"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”
“you won’t —”
“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”
you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words.
the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would.
the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast.
luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face.
evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.
outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.
luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place."
you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.
"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes."
the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards.
"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.
you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips.
"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."
luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:
"i love you."
your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.
because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.
you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed.
it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.
no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.
just this.
#the way this became a whole chapter....i've got wayyy too much to say i guess#i really wanted to incorporate the trio into this series a bit more and how others see luke + karma's relationship#also i forget who said it but smut as a character study....yeah <3#luke castellan fic#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan angst#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x nemesis!reader#luke castellan x you#pjo fanfic#pjo#luke castellan fanfic#saf writes
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l(over)
when someone else flirts with you in front of them.
heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader
warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊
notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭
frankly, heizou is amused.
"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"
you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?
"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.
"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.
"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.
heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.
"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.
when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.
"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"
your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.
heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"
"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.
so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.
"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.
(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)
(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)
"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"
"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.
"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."
kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"
"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."
"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."
that gives heizou an idea.
"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.
"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).
"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"
you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.
"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"
"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"
"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.
"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"
"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"
"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"
"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.
"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"
his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.
"d-doushin shikanoin?!"
"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"
kadenokouji faints.
"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."
"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."
"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.
he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.
unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.
"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.
"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.
you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.
"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."
"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.
briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.
(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)
"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.
wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.
"whatever."
his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.
you are bound to him.
and then he gives in.
(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)
"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."
oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!
"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.
"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"
a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.
i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.
you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.
"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.
wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.
he is bound to you.
a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.
you are in the eye of the hurricane.
the eye of the beholder. it melts.
neuvillette is flabbergasted.
back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.
this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.
"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."
the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.
"sorry, i'm taken."
"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.
"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.
"partners in work?"
"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.
the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.
"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.
"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."
"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.
"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.
neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.
"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.
"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."
the stranger rolls his eyes.
"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."
neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"
"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.
clouds begin to form.
"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."
he looks at you, and the sun emerges.
"you're right. thank you, [name]."
a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.
it glows.
"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"
he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.
"yes," he vows, "i do."
his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin#heizou x reader#heizou x you#shikanoin heizou#genshin heizou#neuvillette x you#neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer x reader#wanderer genshin
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Something that struck me extra on this LLTG rewatch - how subtle yet unmistakable the narrative is about the fact that being sheltered and spoiled as a woman is a recipe for disaster.
NN, ill-educated STEM feral child, gets how important marriage partner choice is more than all the rest of them, properly brought up in womanly virtues.
No, I don't mean she yearns for true love (she gets it, eventually, but that is not what she hopes or looks for) - but what she gets and a lot of the rest of the young women we see do not, is that you want a husband you can like and get along with, who can let you be yourself (and who is also acceptable socially because she's pragmatic.)
That is why her first choice, until it's OBE, is Yao - he's sweet and he's a friend and she knows she'd be the boss in that marriage. All the ladies in the capital swoon for Ling Buyi but she is never consciously swayed. She doesn't realize he likes her and she's not someone to build fantasies/pine for someone she can't have (in a way, knowing the man likes her is a necessary precondition for her to be even able to open her heart - she's spent too much of her childhood fruitlessly yearning for familial love to want to repeat that in her marriage.) Yao openly adores her so this allows her to consider him as a partner (that is why Scholar dude never had a chance btw, his courtship style is negging and NN is the last person that would work for.)
In fact, even after she knows Ling Buyi likes her, she is NOT excited to marry him because she doesn't want someone too high a status compared to her and someone as strong-willed as him because what she sees, and a lot of the rest of women looking for husbands in this story do not, that if there is a huge status disparity and a man is used to getting his own way, there is a risk of having yourself subsumed. A lot of the latter half is the two awkward, scarred by various trauma young people navigating boundaries of their relationship and what is OK for them and what is not (Ling Buyi IS used to barking orders, NN is overly defensive about even the slightest suggestions - they eventually meet in the middle and it's lovely but it's even more lovely that the drama shows it takes work and conversations and compromises.)
The thing that she gets, perhaps because she's a pragmatic survivor, is how the choice of a husband is the most important thing for a woman in that society. Her life fully depends on that, even more than of e.g., an Austen heroine, because in addition to those hurdles, this is a polygamous society (so how many other women brought in and how husband treats the legal wife versus concubines etc also is an issue) AND a society where if your husband goes down, you and your kids will be executed/enslaved along with him. We see how badly wrong marriages can go - Yao's eventual wife's first marriage is a great example, where she marries a man who abuses her and kills her family. Or even that one woman who marries a general who dotes on her and is a great husband, but commits treason and is executed (and she's only spared by the grace of the emperor.)
And the fact that all those women swoon for Ling Buyi and want to marry him SHOWS how the sheltered/spoiled thing has fucked them up. Remember princess whatever? She is dead set on marrying Ling Buyi and it's insane to me. Yes, he's good-looking and quasi-son of the emperor who dotes on him (since it's safe to do so, he's outside the dynastic fight) but that's great for about three minutes and boasting at parties. She is so sheltered from reality, she does not think what it would be like to be married to him. I don't mean his revenge quest since nobody knows. I mean if he was exactly who he appears with no other goals. Ling Buyi dislikes her and makes it known. He's rude to her (he's rude in general. Hell, he's rude to his parental family, openly! And emperor lets him get away with it), he clearly looks down on her and at a couple of points he genuinely threatens her and her family with murder. He's not charming or gentle or considerate. THIS IS NOT A MAN YOU WANT TO MARRY OMG!!! It has clearly not occurred to her to think past being carried into this house, envy of all her girlfriends - day in, day out with a rude, violent man who is the emperor's favorite (so you can't really seek help from your family if he doesn't treat you well), who dislikes you and who is entitled to take other wives.
Anyway, I love NN and her pragmatic mind and that she makes Ling Buyi EARN her consent and her loyalty and her love. (But then she is ride or die for him, isn't she?)
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major yap warning; deep dive into parecabeth (parent!percabeth)
what age were we thinking percabeth would have kids ?
to me annabeth has always been such a planner that i always thought she'd plan all that out, like on their wedding night annabeth pulls out like three binders with ages on the front '20-30's, 30's-40's' and is like "bitch you better be ready"LMAO, though i KNOW percy is DYING to have children i also know percy would def respect her decision to have kids a little later after she's settled in her career
i think i always saw them (having a girl teehee) in their early 30's and i will always stand by the at home dad percy would def be
like maybe up until their ready he works to save; working maybe at an aquarium or some other random places that work with his skills (also dependent on what he actually goes to college for) then once annabeths secure they have their first kid percy stays home and writes his books based on the stories he would tell his daughter (like rick did)
this also gives them another source of income; he prob uses a fake name (cough rick riordan cough) so he doesn't get like stalked or smth but its still nice money to have
i think they'd have a simple two, maybe two girls (teehee) and reference camp as their other kids; their kids growing up surrounded by hundreds of other demigod kids along with the kids of their friends
i once read this fanfic where annabeth designed and built the home they have kids in and i agree with that deeply i think she would get pregnant right as the house would finish up and use the rest of her pregnancy to decorate and really home it up until she gave birth
i think they would stay close to NYC to be closer to sally and paul (and prob annabeths job too) but it would be further away from the city and closer to Montauk
I think that house (and family tbh) would be the pillar for everyone else like most of the time if their friends want to see them they go there rather then the other way around
they probably have cookouts every other weekend, porch jams into the night when apollo kids come to visit, i think the house def has enough room for guests, demigods dropping by every so often for a place to stay but I also think its common curtesy to not try and pry like they don't try to get them to join they just come to shower, to get some wisdom and leave; I think having percy and annabeth as parents would cause a shift in CHB like they always do, percabeth is literally the next generation of adult greek demigods even if they aren't the first to have kids they're the first since the first war to LIVE this long, and to have a fulfilling life that they're willingly sharing with CHB and i think that would really start to give greek demigods hope pushing them more towards the future CJ has (GOD I LOVE THEM)
speaking of room; theres a guest room on the first floor with big windows and house plants that they call the g-room for green room, built for the man himself, g-man. Juniper and Grover come to visit alllllll the time (along with tyson) like its basically their second house, everyone refers to their kids as cousins and even when they grow up theres no questioning that
^ jumping back to having kids i could def see apollo blessing annabeth with an easy pregnancy, safe birth, and quick recovery; i could see percy and annabeth telling CHB and CJ just a couple days after and them pulling up to camp with a big, but quiet, celebration; big feasts and sentimental presents, i could see CHB burning shrouds like they did after their first quest all beautifully embroidered, the campfire dancing with different colors from everyones emotions
i wish we knew more about CJ traditions but i know they would have a feast too and it would be like unlocking the next level being able to explore CJ from the new lighting of parenthood; they probably have an honorary small house gifted to them so they can come and visit whenever but i feel like most friends would come to CHB for the bigger celebration first
god and don't get me started on the hunters GOD i just know thalia is BAWLINGGG and she def comes to visit all the time bc she's probably the god-mother like how grovers probably the god-father
and i know that convo was a hard one having literally everyone in the room crying when they asked
#parecabeth tm#yap sesh#pjo#hoo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#heros of olympus#hoo fandom#pjo fandom#hoo text post#pjo text post#hoo/pjo#percy and annabeth#annabeth chase and percy jackson#annabeth and percy#annabeth chase#thalia grace#grover underwood#camp half blood#camp jupiter#hunters of artemis#percabeth
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Lightning Ridge - Part One
A young Shifter wanders into a town crawling with hunters, Hendrix plans on laying low but when he catches wind of one particular hunter who is after the same Shifter that he’s been tracking himself, his curiosity gets the better of him. Offering to join the man on his quest he can only hope he can track down the dangerous shifter, saving the lives of innocents all the while keeping his secret hidden.
TW: mentions of murder/eating people, giant spiders, some swearing, mentions of death, mentions of drug use
G/t Shifter story, the idea came from a prompt I read a while back by @maplesyrupandgt. I’ve just come back to writing after recovering from an injury to my writing hand of all things, but I’m back and posting short stories and prompts to get me back in the swing of things. This will be a Four Part Story so keep an eye out for more to come!
Approx 3.2k words
Part One - Here
Part Two
The rain beat down hard on my shoulders and I knew I’d have to stop for the night, my eyes had caught sight of distant light coming from this direction and I had hoped to stumble across a small village in search for cheap accommodation. What I didn’t expect to find however was currently staring at my face menacingly, urging me to turn around and go back the way I’d come.
A sign was posted a few yards from the small village, and it read:
‘GIANT’S BEWARE’
And Another:
‘GIANT SLAYERS WITHIN’
The signs were large enough that any shifter would be able to read it in their Giant forms, what was unnecessary was the graphic image of a shifter having its head cut off by a human that was scrawled under the blocky letters above it.
“Charming” I said to myself.
It was known among shifters that most humans didn’t know that ‘Giants’ as they called us, were not in fact Giant’s at all but a special kind of shape shifter that could grow into their large forms at will, or sometimes against their will. For that reason, I deemed it safe to enter, no one here would know what I was, I’d just have to keep a low profile as always.
My boots trudged heavily through the muddy streets until I found a tavern, the sign out the front told me that there was availability inside, perfect. I pushed open the double wooden doors and was greeted with a waft of warm thick air filled with music, laughter and the smell of smoke and whiskey.
I inhaled deeply, soaking in the pleasant sensations, I’d get a drink once I’d secured a room for the night. I found a coat hanger near the entryway and placed my wet jacket onto it along with my fedora, feeling somewhat warmer and dryer I headed straight for the bar with my best panty dropping grin.
“A straight whisky darlin if you don’t mind?” I asked the young barmaid from behind the counter, she gave me a playful wink while pouring a fresh glass without even looking at it. She slid it across the polished counter to me and leaned over.
“What’s a pretty face like you doing here?” she asked, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder.
“Just passing through” I said casually. “I was hoping I might find some accommodations hereabouts.”
“Well, you need look no further, we have a few spare rooms tonight, just a single?” She asked hopefully, she briefly glanced around to see if I had come in with anyone else.
“Yeah, just a single.”
She handed me a piece of parchment to sign, a guest log, I scribbled a fake name in as I usually did and handed it back to her along with a generous payment, she gave me a set of keys and then asked. “Where are you headed to?”
“Oh no where in particular, I enjoy exploring, I’m a bit of a nomad.” I shrugged, taking another heavy slog of my drink. “Might head toward Lightening Ridge tomorrow.” I said offhandedly.
The man beside me at the bar, scoffed, I hadn’t even noticed him sit down until now, the barmaid and I both looked at him curiously, waiting for an explanation.
“You haven’t heard the rumors?” He asked, looking at us incredulously, his dark hair and darker complexion gave off a mysterious air in the already dim lighting of the tavern, his shaggy hair keeping his face in the shadows expertly.
“That’s Giant territory up that way.” He explained, turning to address us properly.
“Is that so?” I asked, I hadn’t heard of any territory being claimed as ‘Giants Territory’ ever, most of the time shifters mainly lived amongst humans. Of course, there were the rare kind who took advantage of their sheer strength and sought to harm and press their power over others.
One shifter in particular I could think of, we’d crossed paths a few times, I had actually been tracking him for a long time after hearing the first reports of a Giant terrorizing villages. I’d found him about a year ago, warning him of others who were hunting him, I tried to get through to him with reason, but he wasn’t interested in hearing any of it, in fact he very nearly killed me.
I’d kept my distance then but continued to track him for a short while until I lost his trail. It had been months since I’d had any firm leads and I wondered if my instinct taking me this far East had finally paid off. Perhaps he had taken over Lightening Ridge claiming it to be his own.
“What makes you think it’s Giant Territory?” I pressed further.
The young man finished off his drink and indicated that he would like another.
“I’ve been assigned to hunt a Giant living in that area, he’s set up camp there for a while now, many have gone in, but none have ever returned.” he said forebodingly wiggling his fingers for emphasis.
I shivered but not because of the stupid theatrics the man was displaying, but because in all likelihood Blade was killing if not eating the men who had entered ‘His’ Territory and the thought turned my gut to ice.
“Perhaps I could assist you.” I said resolve set, I was sure this was the shifter I’d been after, and I wasn’t going to let him get away again, especially knowing he was now murdering civilians.
The young man laughed loudly but I kept my expression neutral, and his laughter died down to a look of pure disbelief.
“You’re not joking? Are you?” He asked and I shook my head, he gave a heavy sigh. “Look I appreciate the offer, but I generally work alone, besides I don’t wanna get distracted looking after you when I’m trying to slay the beast.” He explained, all good points.
“I’m a hunter as well.” I lied. “I actually know of the beast your after, been on his tail for months, I think I could prove useful.”
He gave me a skeptical look; I was sure he was going to turn me down again and then I’d move to plan B which would be tailing this man in order to find Blade, but he held out a hand instead.
“You don’t get in my way.” He said sternly. “When we find the beast, it’s every man for himself, I wont risk my neck to save your ass if you do something stupid, you hear?”
I couldn’t help the smile edging onto my face, and I grasped his hand.
“Deal.” I said, so much for keeping a low profile.
“The names Ryder, I’ll meet you down here an hour before sunrise.” He said stiffly before rising from his chair, intending to head in for the night.
“Hendrix.” I answered honestly. “I’ll be here.” He gave me a curt nod before heading up the stairs to the Tavern’s rooms.
“Boy you do have a death wish.” The barmaid was shaking her head whilst cleaning a glass. I gave her a small shrug before heading up the stairs myself, and I wondered if the barmaid had noted that the name I put on the guest log, was not the name I’d given to Ryder. I supposed it didn’t matter, in all likely hood we’d leave before anyone else arose the next morning and I’d never see her again.
With that I hunkered down onto the small cot within my room and urged my racing thoughts to quieten, though regardless of my efforts my excitement at having finally got a lead was too much to give me a good night’s sleep and morning came all too quickly.
I rolled out of bed and stretched my aching limbs, sleeping on a different surface every night didn’t bode well for my back. I wandered to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face briefly glancing my disheveled appearance in the mirror. Ryder had been right to worry that I wouldn’t be useful in a fight, where he was toned, I was more malnourished with my poor muscles trying desperately to make themselves known.
My dark blue eyes popped against my freckle-stained face where my cheek and jaw bones jutted out. I wasn’t much of a fighter, more a survivalist, but I had been training since my last meeting with Blade and I was confident I’d be able to take him this time.
I brushed my fingers through my shoulder length sandy blonde hair and pushed away from the sink, I’d guessed it was about an hour before sunrise now and if I didn’t get a move on, Ryder would likely leave without me. I slung my satchel containing my meager belongings across my chest and headed down the stairs.
“Ah there he is, I was thinking you might have come to your senses overnight.” Ryder joked, putting on his own hat and jacket, ready to head out the door.
“Not a chance.” I smiled, and followed him outside, the air was fresh and held the sharp bite of winter closing in, I longed to be back inside the warm tavern, but I also wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity, especially if I could put an end to Blade’s rampage once and for all.
It was bad enough that he was putting the identity of our kind at risk but using his power to harm others was something I just couldn’t stand for.
I followed Ryder as we headed further east, following signs for Lightening Ridge, it was approximately 200kml away from SheerWood, the village we had just come from, and would be about a three or four day walk with minimal stops.
“So, tell me a bit about yourself Hendrix.” Ryder asked, the sun was beginning to rise, and we had walked in mostly comfortable silence until that point, I had gathered that he preferred not to grow attached to his travelling companion in case he died once we faced the shifter, his question caught me off guard.
“There’s not much to tell really.” I shrugged, preparing to spin off the usual story I give people. “I’m a nomad, I travel all over, got no family to hold me down so I’m just out exploring really.”
“Bullshit, you’ve been tailing a Giant for peats sake, there is more to you than just drifting with the wind.”
I bit my lip, I hadn’t really thought that one through, I’d forgotten that I’d told him I was a hunter back in the tavern.
“Well, you know I pick up a few hunting jobs here and there as a travel through, no big story, sorry to disappoint.” I covered quickly, it wasn’t an unheard-of story and totally credible if I do say so myself.
He didn’t seem convinced, but he also didn’t seem frustrated at all, like he understood that not everything was okay to be shared with a total stranger.
“Well, I suppose I’m much the same as you, grew up in a small town and as soon as I was able, I up and left, took up hunting jobs and make my living that way, I must say it’s not a bad way to see the country.” He glanced at the surrounding forest appreciatively.
“Do you have any family?” I asked trying to continue to keep the topic on him.
“Yeah, but I haven’t seen them in years, they live way out west in the desert, my mum, dad and sister, as far as I know Kailani is still there tending to the farm with them, farm life just wasn’t for me you know?”
I nodded, the lifestyle had never interested me either, come to think of it I wasn’t really sure what kind of lifestyle called to me. I supposed travelling and exploring the country was okay, but the thought of settling down somewhere was intriguing, even if it was an impossibility for me.
“What’s Kailani like?” I asked, my mind wandered to my own little sister, she’d been only five years old when I left home, when my abilities had made themselves known.
“She’s kind.” He said wistfully. “She was always very reserved, especially around our parents, she was never shy about giving me a hard time though.” He chuckled at a memory playing over in his mind. “Last I heard she was seeing a fella, she’d make a good wife, I just hope she’s happy.”
“I suppose that’s all any of us can ask for.” I said quietly, hoping the same was true about Ella.
A twig snapped to our left and we both paused, Ryder held up a scarred hand indicating for me to keep quiet. I scanned the area, but I couldn’t see much of anything off the trail, the forest on either side of us was dense with underbrush.
After a few moments I was going to tap Ryder on the shoulder and suggest we keep going, it was probably just an animal skirting too close to the trails, that’s when we heard a soft hiss disturb the silence around us. And that was all the warning we got before the large Arachnid made itself known, its many eyes flickering like embers in the dense forest and its large hairy legs moving faster than they should have been able to.
“Duck!” Ryder shouted, I was going to question why I would do such a thing, and to instead suggest we run but I crouched low to the ground anyway and narrowly missed a projectile of sticky silk that was shot toward us. Ryder had rolled out of the way and brandished his sword, crouching in a fighting stance and ready to leap at the thing.
I dug in my pockets for my dagger, and then realized it was woefully too small to fight a creature this large. Of course, normally when I encountered giant spiders in the forest, I was much bigger and would simply crush the creature with the heel of my boot, I’d never thought I needed a larger weapon when I was usually the largest creature around.
Of course I couldn’t grow right now, not with a hunter standing right there, I rolled as the creature made a move toward me and I narrowly avoided one of its sharp claw-like legs from spearing me through the middle. I watched as Ryder pounced on top of the thing, using his sword to strike at the Arachnids thick exoskeleton.
The spider seemed to pay him not mind, not finding his efforts of any concern at all and instead kept on moving toward me, the spider positioned itself over me and spat more sticky silk covering my left hand and pinning it to the ground. My breath hitched and I felt myself expand a few inches, breaking my hand free of the sticky substance.
I focused on stopping the growing energy within my body, reining it in for now. I wasn’t about to die at the mercy of an insect.
The spiders’ pincers sliced awfully close to my neck, and I jerked my body upwards pushing the heels of my boots into the spider’s face.
With only a second to make the most of my distraction I backpaddled on my hands and knees crawling under the spider and then out into the open. I dug in my bag frantically and pulled out what I hoped might do the trick, tearing off a part of my sleeve, I picked up a stick nearby and wrapped my shirt around it.
The spider had its eyes on me again and let out another hiss, I doused the cloth in whiskey and then struck a match, creating a large fire stick that I brandished at the spider. It threw its body backwards showing off its front legs in a display of aggression and in doing so threw Ryder from its back, he landed in a heap dropping his sword a short distance away from him.
With the flaming stick in one hand, I inched closer to Ryder’s sword, causing the spider to back up further.
“Ryder!” I shouted kicking the sword toward him, he got the hint grasped the sword and then stood directly underneath the beast. I backed up and as the spider came down Ryder expertly placed the sword between the spider’s thorax and abdomen and then it went limp, its body falling heavily on top of Ryder.
I concentrated and allowed myself to grow only a little, just enough so that I would be strong enough to push the beast off of Ryder, with a grunt of effort I rolled the spider off of him. Ryder lay there breathing heavily, his whole body covered in unidentifiable spider guck, I focused on my own breathing shrinking down to an acceptable height though my body protested.
“You look like hell.” I stated, holding out a hand for him. He grasped it with a slimy hand of his own and I cringed a little at the sickening feeling.
“I’d look a lot worse if it hadn’t of been for you.” He said completely awe struck, he walked over to reclaim his sword from the spider’s belly and then looked over at me, his hazel eyes flashing.
“That was some quick thinking back there.” He said, voice still laced with amazement. “I mean, after seeing you brandish a dagger of all things, I had my doubts, but… that was something else.”
I brushed it off, throwing the fire stick on the ground and stamping it out before putting my matches and flask back into my satchel.
“I work well under pressure.” I shrugged, and his eyebrows reached the sky.
“I’ll say.” He said clapping me on the back. “In any case, well done lad.”
I chuckled nervously and followed him as we continued down the trail. Thankful that I had made it out of my first encounter with an aggressive creature and lived to tell the tale, secret still intact.
“Ha, that’s funny…” He started, looking me up and down as I caught up walking briskly beside him.
“What’s funny? That I’ve only got a dagger to defend myself with? Yeah I know the truth is I lost-“
“No, not that.” He cut me off. “I just could have sworn I was taller than you.”
PART TWO
#gt#gianttiny#giant/tiny#g/t#giant#tiny#size shifter#sizedifference#gtangst#HendrixRyder#ShifterHendrix
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Arlecchino’s story quest just revealed how old Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet are. (Spoiler kinda)
Tl;Dr: late 20s
“I wish Genshin would give us solid numbers for character ages!” Sometimes they do. And those numbers give us ages of other characters too, if you pay attention. And yeah, I know the Genshin community doesn’t like to read, but you don’t even have to do much reading for this.
And let me preface this. When you go through this much work to “justify” characters being adults some people will say it’s just “an excuse to sexualize minors”. No. This isn’t even about that.
This is about me being absolutely sick and tired with the teenagers with careers trope.
First of all, what we know:
Childe is the YOUNGEST of the Fatui Harbingers.
Childe woke up the whale when he was 14 years old, and that was 20 years ago. He is 34 years old.
Arlecchino became the Knave at 17 years old.
The Hearth siblings came to the house within a few months of Arlecchino gaining control.
Lyney and Lynette met a magician named Caesar who over 10 days, helped them hone their stage magic skills
Caesar died 10 years ago.
Toddlers can’t do street magic.
Honestly the last couple of points aren’t even needed, but they’re helpful to solidify this number. You’ll see.
Let’s do some basic Arlecchino math first.
Again, she’s canonically older than 34, but if you want her and the siblings to be as young as absolutely possible, we can start there. (Maybe she’s a few months older than Childe. Idk)
34-17=17
Absolute bare minimum, Arlecchino has been the knave, and the siblings have been in the house for 17 years.
And quite frankly, I don’t think the “kids” were embryos when they joined.
But now that we have a minimum, let’s get a maximum to cover our bases. I’m going to use the serial disappearances as a marker here, because given what we know about her she would definitely look into that sort of thing. So she can’t be much older than 37.
So, when did the siblings join the house?
First of all, let’s get a few facts from earlier involved. Cesar died 10 years ago. That means he died while they had already been in the house for 7-10 years (depending on Arlecchino’s age.)
And a widely overlooked fact that personally I think needs to be taken into account more often, is that TODDLERS CANT DO STREET MAGIC.
But I get it, this is an anime game. And for some crazy reason some fans are convinced that characters should be as young as they can possibly be.
So let’s be just, the most generous that I could possibly be here and say those kids right there are 6 years old (anime 6 year olds don’t act like real 6 year olds so I’ll give you that), and it’s been an EVENTFUL couple of months worth of mastering street magic, trauma, and joining the House of the Hearth.
6+7=13 13+10=23
So the absolute bare minimum you are being silly at this point age for the siblings is 23, and depending on how old you think Arlecchino is, up to 26.
Personally, I feel like Freminet can help us out here, but we’ll have to apply just a teensy tiny bit of real world logic if we want to get anywhere. So,
How old was Freminet when he was sent to the house?
Freminet was very close with his mother, he was incredibly skilled at fixing and building things, to the point where he would help bring in money for the family for a few years before he was dropped off at the house with the old Knave where he’d notice other children with depression who he’d seen kill themselves.
Now I ask you, does that sound like a toddler? If you’re going to look me in my eyes and try saying he was sent to the house at 5 or 6, when the earliest of memories are being DEVELOPED, you’re not just silly, you are high. There’s really only so much disbelief I can suspend here.
Let’s be generous and say he was 8 years old. You can still have your over developed anime 6 year old, but at least it gives a few years for him to have been tinkering and making happy little memories before the trauma.
Again, using the youngest possible Arlecchino age,
8+17=25
So baby brother Freminet is bare minimum 25 years old.
In conclusion, let’s use those concrete numbers here to make an age range for the House of Hearth siblings. (I could absolutely give you my personal head canon timeline, yes. Will I? Maybe if you ask nice. But this is about cold hard numbers)
You’re absolutely fucking kidding yourself here ages: 22 for Freminet and 23 for the twins.
Low end: 25 for Freminet and 26 for the twins.
Reasonable maximum (the oldest I think they could be in the flashback is 13) 32 for Freminet and 33 for the twins!!
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Ok I have an idea for a fic and idk if anyone would be interested in it and rn I only have a concept rather than a specific line in my head which is how I usually get going. It’s not just coming to me so if I write it it’s going to take more energy than usual so I’m gonna throw the vague idea out there and if anyone is actually interested I might write it.
Anyway the idea is that Touya Todoroki used to play Star Wars: the Old Republic, he had his own laptop and an annual subscription and he played pretty frequently as a way to vent his frustration when he couldn’t sneak away to train or when he had already tired himself out but wasn’t ready to sleep. All his characters, every last one, is dark side. He doesn’t really do multiplayer, doesn’t have any friends he plays with and mostly sticks to the story quests. His main character, the one in the center of his legacy tree, totally maxed out and op, super cool outfit, designed to resemble Touya himself, is Darth Dabi. Dark side Sith Warrior, but he’s not cruel to his own companions. No romance with anyone until SoR where he can’t help flirting with Theron a bit. Anyway not the important part here just my brain going on a tangent.
The important part of the story is that after Touya “dies” Shouto steals his laptop. Everyone is grieving and different people take turns packing up Touya’s things so no one notices when a single item goes missing. Shouto just took it because he knew it was something fun his siblings got but he didn’t. His access to the internet was extremely limited and he just wanted to know what he was missing. He wasn’t able to actually do much with it, especially when he was still little but by the time he’s like 11 he’s figured it out. He explores what Touya had done on it, found school work and such but then he came across a document that Touya had used to record his swtor character backgrounds and reasoning. Touya didn’t like, write the whole story, it was just for himself to remember what he was thinking while he played, why he made which choices an such. He checks out swtor and luckily Touya had auto fill passwords and no security key. And lo and behold the subscription is still renewing annually and Touya had only played on one server. Shouto claimed another server for himself and started playing. He had so many cartel coins it was insane. He had a really easy time getting started but the more he played and figured out what Touya’s character notes implied he got worried about his brother even though Touya was already dead. He mostly puts it out of his mind but he realized that Touya was kinda not okay at all.
Years later when he meets Dabi for the first time he just kinda stops in his tracks and stares until blurting out “are you actually using the sith name you came up with in middle school to be a villain? Should I call you Darth Dabi now?”
#fic idea#mha#touya todoroki#dabi#shouto todoroki#my hero academia#swtor#would anyone read it?#don’t steal#humor
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Whee Fight Scenes! (This Is A Seirei no Moribito Advertisement)
For the past couple of years I have been almost exclusively writing fanfiction for action-fantasy video games which has led to me developing opinions on writing fight scenes. I used to hate writing them because what even happen fight, really, like what the hell??? But now I’ve learned to tolerate them! Sometimes I even enjoy writing them! So now I will share my wisdom with you.
(Disclaimer: This post was written so I could avoid writing a fight scene.)
My credentials: I occasionally write fight scenes in my action-fantasy video game fanfictions, and I have seen Seirei no Moribito the anime several times. I do not claim to be an expert on fight scenes, but I do claim to love Seirei no Moribito to bits.
Part 1. The Set Up
There’s this excellent anime about a mercenary on a life-long quest for redemption who ends up taking a cursed prince under her protection. It’s about unraveling propaganda and colonialism, and also about kicking ass. The first time I watched this anime, when I got to the episode 3 rice field fight, I thought, “holy shit, I see now that a good fight scene requires not only a kick-ass fight, but also narrative/emotional build up in order to give the scene weight and tension.”
Like, lots of anime have excellent and extremely iconic fights, but this was the show that really made the writing aspect of it stick in my brain. Seirei no Moribito is also an adaptation of a book, which might why this stood out to me: the way its fight scenes are constructed are not as reliant on the actual visuals so much as they are on everything else (the animation for the fight is gorgeous, too, like, just watch this show please it’s so good). That said, I haven’t actually read the book. But I have seen this show several times and the rice field fight gets me so hype.
(And also every other fight scene. I’m never over episode 13. If you have to watch only one (1) episode of Seirei no Moribito, watch episode 13. But also, don’t do that. Watch the entire thing you coward.)
Anyway. What’s going on in Seirei no Moribito episode 3?
Part 1a. The Narrative Stage
Ep3 is early on in the series. The rice field fight is not the first action scene, but it is the first fight scene. This is what we know going in:
Balsa, our main character, is a formidable mercenary with a practical mind and a strong sense of honor. She has sworn to protect Chagum, the prince of the Empire. Her goal is to keep Chagum alive at all costs, because saving his life is crucial to her personal goal of redemption.
The Emperor (Chagum’s father) has dispatched his elite warriors to kill the prince, as they believe that he is possessed by an evil water spirit. Their goal is to kill the prince because the evil water spirit is a bad omen for the empire, and they believe that killing the prince will save the kingdom.
Balsa’s spear is damaged, and she is outnumbered. She has the disadvantage.
We are, of course, rooting for Balsa and Chagum at this point in the story. Balsa’s our main character, she’s super cool, and child assassination is a bad look. We know that Balsa is strong: we’ve seen her do athletic stunts, and it’s been alluded to that she is extremely skilled with the spear. This fight is the first time we get to see her use it, so it’s very exciting to the viewer. We want to see her in action.
Part 1b. The Emotional Stage
Chagum doesn’t have much of a personality at this point: we know he’s a child prince, and we know his dad wants to kill him. So we don’t know him well, but he’s already sympathetic due to circumstance.
When Balsa and Chagum get to the rice fields, they are almost home-free. They’ve spent a lot of effort trying to redirect the emperor’s warriors and the plan almost worked. We are extremely close to safety, so the fact that this is when the emperor’s elite catch up is very tense and frustrating.
All this puts the audience in the mindset of: oh man, they’re so close, I really need Balsa to win! I don’t want the kid die! You can taste the safety, you are almost there—it’s the type of tension that gets you invested in the outcome of the fight.
Part 1c. The Physical Stage
The first half, and the faster-paced portion of the fight takes place in a rice field at night (a classic). Wide open, with water to splash in, and nowhere to hide. It’s right on the edge of the thick forest, which gives Balsa and Chagum an immediate goal: get to the denser terrain so that they might break line of sight of their pursuers.
The second half of the fight is less of a fight and more of a close-up, emotional moment of action. It takes place in a clearing by the edge of the forest.
The physical location of the fight ties in with the short-term goals of the characters: the open field forces Balsa into direct confrontation even though she wants to run, and the clearing by the edge of the forest gives Jin (one of the emperor’s warriors) the illusion of privacy when he tries to kill Chagum, and it gives Balsa cover to hide until she can intervene.
Part 1 – TL;DR
Even before you get to the actual fight, the setup of the fight has inherent tension and intrigue. One can reasonably assume that Balsa and Chagum will survive, because this is episode 3 of a 26 episode anime. But you don’t know if her damaged spear will hold out. You don’t know why the emperor wants Chagum dead. You don’t know if Balsa will kill the emperor’s guards, or if she’ll be able to make a clean getaway with the prince. All these uncertainties create mystery, which creates tension. And tension is what makes the fight fun.
Part 2. The Purpose
I mentioned earlier that this is the first actual fight in the show.
It’s the payoff for a bunch of little questions that have cropped up so far. How strong is Balsa? Is she good enough to win, even when outnumbered? What does her fighting style look like?
A lot of action stories have big fight early on, and that’s because a well-done fight scene squeezes in a massive amount of characterization. In this fight, we learn a lot about Balsa, and we learn a lot about the Emperor and the difference between the Emperor and the people who work for him.
Some questions that get explored: How do they think under pressure? What kind of fighting do they do? Are they strategic? Reactive? Brute force or trickster? How do they solve problems? How far are these people willing to go to achieve their goals?
There’s a moment in this fight when Balsa is wounded, and the emperor’s warriors retrieve Prince Chagum. Balsa ends up retreating into the forest. Jin says something along the lines of: she’s a mercenary, she works for money and she’s already been paid; she won’t risk her life to come back and get the prince.
But she does. Even though she’s been wounded, and even though she had the perfect opportunity to walk away, she comes back and saves Prince Chagum at the expense of her own health. Balsa keeps her promises; Balsa’s personal quest for redemption is more important to her than her life. We know her, now!
Fight scenes are great for characterization because it’s a deviation from status quo. A person’s default state is not “battle,” and stories thrive on extraordinary circumstances. “How does this character change/act/perform under pressure?” is a really great characterization question, and a fight scene is the opportunity to show the answer rather than tell it.
Fight scenes are also great for thematic debate. You get the opportunity to literalize the conflict between different philosophies via characters fighting each other. EZ story moment. You know that one Howard Ashman quote about how, in musicals, the characters sing when they’re too emotional to speak? That’s what fight scenes are to me. The characters fight when they can’t talk to each other.
And then, of course, a fight scene is also moving the plot along. The conflict is happening, information is being exchanged/discovered/buried. Some characters life, some characters get hurt, some characters die. A fight scene is a way to physically bring characters to the state they need to be in for the story to progress (in the right emotional state, the right physical state, the right location, etc). Lots of things going on, which is good—you want all of your scenes to be purposeful.
Part 3. The Details
All of that had to do with the zoomed-out, overall story view of the fight (how the fight fits into the overall story). I am now going to continue to gush about the episode 3 rice field fight up close (how does the fight scene work in isolation). Because Seirei no Moribito rocks.
Part 3a. The Setting
I already mentioned the open rice field/dense forest dichotomy and how that affects the characters’ short-term goals. It’s also a great choice to establish Balsa’s superior technical ability with her spear. The rice field is wide open and relatively flat—no obstructions or distractions, with everyone on equal ground. There are no tricks to pull, no environmental quirks to exploit: this is a clean fight between Balsa and the emperor’s warriors. When she comes out on top, it’s because she’s better than them.
Depending on the character, it might be better to change the terrain. Have the stealthy warrior fight in a forest, where they can appear and reappear and use their sneakiness to their advantage. Put a trickster in a situation where they can improvise traps. There is an aspect of your character that you want to show off, so set the stage so that they can show off. It’ll be totally badass and fun.
Part 3b. The Short-Term Goals
When you read a story, you can reasonably assume that the protagonist will stay alive (especially if you are not near the end of the story). Knowing the outcome can make a story stale if you're not careful. You can lose tension if there’s no risk. Some stories try to create a world/tone/atmosphere so that anyone can die. A lot don’t because that’s a little depressing.
My friend @yellowocaballero has an excellent post on this regarding OP protagonists, but to summarize: if you know the protagonist is always going to win the physical fight, you have to make the win condition not about that. Balsa isn’t OP, but giving characters goals beyond “win the fight” can make a fight so much more interesting.
In the rice field fight, Balsa does not have to defeat the emperor's warriors: she has to get Chagum and herself away alive. Her goal is to make a clean getaway. When the warriors show up, she makes the decision to confront them, and her goal is not just to win, but to win so decisively that they won’t be able to follow her. When Chagum gets caught, she changes her goal to ‘keep him safe at all costs, no matter the harm done to myself’, and she gets seriously wounded. She can succeed in some goals, but fail in others, and the story reacts and keeps changing. It’s the same principle behind why rolling a nat 1 is so entertaining in D&D. The more you fail, the more creative you have to get.
Part 3c. Monkey Brain
There is just something so cool and so satisfying and so fun about seeing a character kick ass. There is also something very cool and very satisfying about seeing a character get beat up. The rice field fight has it all: Balsa kicking ass, and also getting beat up. It’s fun! Fight scenes that know exactly why they are cool are just so good. Hell yeah, overindulge and use every single weapon despite how impractical they are. Yes please show someone pulling off an unrealistic move for the coolness factor. Absolutely include the explosion-that-would-definitely-kill-but-doesn’t.
Part 3 — TL;DR
If you want the fight to be cool, make it cool! Set it in a cool place! Give your characters opportunities to show off! Make it interesting by changing the win conditions! Conflicting goals forces characters to prioritize and it makes scenes fun!
Part 4. Words???
Unfortunately, as mentioned, Seirei no Moribito is an anime and I haven’t read the book so I cannot analyze and gush about its prose in this section. Otherwise, the advertisement would continue. You’re safe for the moment.
Re: prose, there’s probably a post out there that goes over the language of fight scenes better than I ever could. I write with the diction of a middle-grade author because I read PJatO too much as a child and it rewrote my DNA. This is not a bad thing, this is just a fact. So I’m just gonna fire off fight scene writing advice I heard from around:
Filter words — if you want a more immersive reading experience, you want to avoid filtering the action through the narration. So use sentences like: “Her arm hurt” as opposed to “she felt her arm hurt”. But if you’re trying to distance the reader, like recreating the feeling of shock/dissociation, then filter words would help achieve that effect.
Make the rhythm of your prose match the energy of the fight. Short and choppy feels fast in the brain. Long and wordy feels overwhelming. Fragmented sentences and run-ons are chaotic. Customize the vibes.
Establish the important details of the setting beforehand so that you don’t have to stop the action to describe the specific placement of a relevant tree stump. I think I heard this one from Brandon Sanderson on a podcast somewhere, but I think about it a lot when I write because blocking is hard enough and it's even harder when you have to stop and attempt to translate the movie in your head into words. I can’t tell you how to block a fight scene. We need to find someone else who is smarter that can tell us.
Part 5. The Point
Fight Scenes are Fun, actually. They can be really effective if you set them up properly! If you know what you want to do with them, you can arrange it to be as cool as possible! You don’t have to be in a visual medium to make fights fun. You just have to figure out how to translate the cool bits into prose, which I think is mostly done through giving your fight cool shit on both the macro story level scale and the micro scene level scale.
Also, watch Seirei no Moribito.
#i got a comment somewhere that was complimenting my fight scenes which. thank you! fight scenes stress me the FUCK out#but i do think i've gotten a lot better at them since i've started writing so i figured i'd write something about what i learned#and by what i learned i mean. gush about#seirei no moribito#tav this is not a response to your one post about fight scenes earlier that was a coincidence#lazuli talks#writing
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hsr text posts that came to me in a dream (pt. 1)
#I had alt image descriptors but tumblr would not add them. for the life of me. REALLY SORRY…#also i know this is grossly ooc for yanqing but it also made me laugh so hard to make#it’s like his story quest to me. you know.#if you saw me post this before no you didn’t (tumblr also for some reason marked it mature ???)#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail spoilers#hsr spoilers#(vaguely)#hsr meme#hsr text posts#hsr kafka#hsr trailblazer#hsr dan heng#hsr march 7th#hsr fu xuan#hsr asta#hsr arlan#hsr jingliu#hsr jing yuan#hsr yanqing
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Wait does Yanqing know that Blade is his martial uncle
#*i* didn’t know that blade is his martial uncle for a while bc I didn’t pull blade and haven’t done jingliu’s story quest (planning soon)#anyway every time they’ve been on screen together yanqing has been Ready To Fight but jing yuan probably raised him to have manners so like#after finding out he greets him respectfully through gritted teeth like ‘…………shibo.’#and blade Does Not Give A Flying Fuck. he doesn’t even remember who this kid is. that would rankle even more I think.#‘huh what’d this kid call me. oh right I had a shidi this must be his disciple. Whatever.’#pika’s ramblings#honkai star rail#hsr#edit: played jingliu’s quest! ….so if I’m understanding right BLADE is the shidi#edit cont: since it looks like he didn’t learn jingliu’s swordsmanship until after he’d become an abomination of the abundance#edit cont: IF YOU CAN EVEN CALL THAT TEACHING………
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I was looking directly at a reference while drawing these and I still somehow convinced myself he had long hair. Whatever, he's pretty.
A-Z Isekai'd Cress deign by @acfan120 really got me in some kinda way and I couldn't help wanting to draw him. I also have thoughts on story for him but I'm not gonna be annoying with that rn. Maybe someday.
Bonus my warmup doodle:
#Emile's Arts#Pokemon#Pokemon Fanart#Oh it's been YEARS sense I've done non-selfship related fanart#DILF Cress got to me dude I needed to draw him#I have no idea how I convinced myself so wholly he had long hair but you know what whatever#Commit I say it looks good let it sit#Hhhh I tired to make the chain of his monocal look like tear drops#...Okay I said I wouldn't say my thoughts but like look listen okay look#To me he's either working at Parfum Palace (constructed 300 years ago so probably not if we're going the full 3000 back)#Or the Battle Chateau BEFORE it's a Battle Chateau and is just. I guess a regular Chateau???#I personally image it's pre-BW2 era Cress when the Straiton Trio hit their slump being the weakest gym leaders#Just for the extra angst of Cress having this feeling he's not a good Pokemon battler and not very confident in his skills#And also just. What'd loosing their brother would do to an already down in the dumps Chili and Cress#I like to imagine through a side quest with him he eventually regains his confidence with battling#And maybe even establishes the Battle Chateau? that'd be fun~#Those are like my basic story thoughts again I don't wanna.#I don't wanna go too crazy with it kfdjgkdfjgk#I just always really liked Cress he's sooooo cool to me <3#Reliving middleschool nonsense with this one boys and girls#SORRY TO AC FOR THE TAG!!! I JUST LIKE HIM!!!!
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Ok I know we’re focusing on Mal rn, and I’m happy about that. But this right here would’ve been a great moment to give MC a chance to speak on how holding the team together affects her since he just commented on how hard it is. Like now you have a bit of an idea of how she feels, but you still don’t know the half of it because she had to come back, pick up the pieces, and rally everyone together again AFTER being kidnapped and held captive.
And I get that MC being gone was hard for Mal, especially since he’s my LI. But he still ultimately got to move on and pursue something he’s always wanted to do. Meanwhile MC went from saving her brother to saving the world to saving herself to being thrust right back into saving the world and her friends again!
#choices bolas#choices blades#blades of light and shadow#mal volari#playchoices#like yeah y’all support her in battle and by doing these quests with her#but where’s her emotional support#she picks everybody else up and holds the team together but who does that for her#I NEED this to be addressed#and maybe I’m being a selfish bitch by bringing all of this up when Mal has clearly been having his own issues#but I’m still salty and a little mad at him if I’m gonna be honest#he’s worried about everyone else but the damn love of his life 😤#and I know that’s because he couldn’t stop what happened or save us#but once again maybe act a little more concerned about the actual person you couldn’t save then?#is it just me who feels this way??#choices#choices stories you play#choices app#pixelberry studios#pixelberry
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I have not forgotten the draft regarding "How I would write Clouds Leave No Trace", it still lingers its still there
Im still thinking about how my least favorite parts are Yanqing's characterization, The way the world around Jingliu treats her like she's normal when clearly she's not, The way there's such an effort into putting Yingxing and Dan Feng on the same level of guilt for every single thing that it makes Blade's desire for revenge feel nonsensical and out of no where when he has good reason for it, The way that they don't do more to play up the HCQ's dynamic especially in the normal areas thus making caring about their tragedy a struggle if you haven't done all the "prerequisite reading" (even tho the quest should make the players care more and want to read instead of requiring the opposite), The way that they literally mention Bailu and Blade crossed paths but never show us that scene DESPITE all of the importance placed upon Baiheng and Yingxing's friendship, Did I mention My Massive Problems with my boy Yanqing's characterization in this quest versus what we see of how he's affected both before and after it?
Oh and of course, to mention Jing Yuan not really feeling like he has as much significance being in this quest despite being apart of the HCQ and Jingliu's disciple because yet again, they especially don't do enough to develop on screen (but also not enough in the readable text too) his connections to the rest of the HCQ (which in general if you ask me, makes it a lot harder to be that sad at the moments they clearly want us to feel sad for him over the HCQ)
I could go on and on about the problems of Hyv not fully giving the audience a reason to care for the HCQ's tragedy by the way they are barely shown on screen, shoving it all in readables and character stories and relic lore. Even their legends get barely any screen time to build up to when we hear about the fall out.
Also again, not kidding about Jingliu and the world's perception around her. She is described solely in the beginning as bringing a chill to the room, but she's clearly very intimidating, if you ask me she seems very clearly unstable as well and yet when they waltz around in a populated area with no attention getting drawn to them or suspicion or anything. I also call Massive Bullshit on Bailu being like "Wow but she seems so normal and kind, there's nothing about her at all that could make me think she's marastruck 😲!!" When if you ask me, that whole scene could have been used in a much more meaningful way to make a connection between Bailu and her resemblance to Baiheng Specifically in a way I will further elaborate on in my full post about it BUT YEAH Jingliu deserved so much better with this quest, so so much better
And even just small details get me like Jingliu leaving first from Scalegorge Waterscale, then Jing Yuan, Yanqing and Ren leaving? Like if you ask me, let Jingliu leave with Jing Yuan and Yanqing like they're escorting her (idc about any "She was already turning herself in!" There are a number of reasons to be cautious, not solely of her, and keep her in their view) and then talk to and have Ren leave last.
I am still thinking about it, that post still haunts me daily, I have grown to like the quest but my problems with it are so strong and so clear that it's like AHA I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
#I have so many opinions on this quest#And a clear vision in my mind#I still don't know why it exists in its own little bubble#Why is Yanqing acting so odd in this quest but then goes right back to his normal consistent point of character regarding his failures afte#Also even with the argument of it being Jinglius biased words#Having NO mention of Dan Feng while talking about Yingxing's fate at all is wild and weird#Not even a “His stupidity and loyalty to you got him turned into a monster” kind of thing#Where it doesn't even have to be explicitly all the fault on Dan Feng but treating it like he wasn't at all involved in that transformation#It's crazy to me#But yeah uh#I bet if I wasn't obsessed with Blade and the HCQ#To the point of going through the readables and little quests with any mentions of them and their character stories#That I wouldn't be as emotional as I was during Clouds Leave No Trace because they really don't do enough to give reasons to care#The reason I cried for Blade when I played it is bc I read VotU knew what Baiheng meant to him & the ChrStr to know what they meant to him#The game should do more to tell us those kinds of things upfront if they want us to be more likely to have the reaction they seek#ALSO#NOT ENOUGH FLASHBACKS#SERIOUSLY ADD SOME MORE !!!#Even just snippets and add little lines and moments or views of the past overlaid on the prescent?#Hsr#Honkai star rail#Jingliu#Baiheng#Dan heng#Dan feng#Yanqing#Jing yuan#Yingxing#Hsr blade#high cloud quintet
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Hot take: Totk's story would've been 1000% better if the zonai were introduced more slowly
#the zonai were a complete mystery in botw#then within the first five minutes of totk its all ''OH LOOK IT'S THE ZONAI EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT THE ZONAI RIGHT''#like it would've been so much better if link woke up with his funky new arm and only the constructs were there to guide him#and the zonai charges were called construct charges as well so you had zero idea about the zonai (ppl might guess early on but it wouldn't-#be confirmed they were zonai tech)#as you progress through the story you learn more and more about the zonai and who they were#until about halfway or three quarters through the story a main quest leads you to the zonai ruins in faron where you meet rauru's ghost#and he explains about link's new arm being his etc#idk i feel like it would've preserved the mystery of the zonai and made me more engaged in the story#it would've been fun to theorise about the zonai as i went through the game rather than being told everything immediately#totk is a fantastic game but the story definitely could've been better (especially the continuity between botw and totk)#not trying to hate on totk its just that looking back on it the introduction to the zonai was very sudden#totk#totk spoilers
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Me over here while about to go to bed because work in the morning and it's 1AM already: Doesn't write a Fontaine character, is a Liyue fanatic at heart, and truly has no business talking about Fontaine. Meanwhile, has gone insane to numerous people so far about French language tidbits for the nation/some of its characters and the massive contrast between them, but especially the architecture, considering Fontaine seems to be inherently referencing historical France more times than I can possibly ever count, and it's the nation of justice (well, technically since Focalors, as I don't believe Egeria was ever known as the god of 'justice'? This whole concept of the gods and what they're officially gods of is still something that my mind goes feral over, but technically, a predecessor and/or ancestor holds/held the title of the same archon of course, but doesn't have to preside over the same 'ideal', or so from what I've been able to find; especially as we know that the gods don't 'reincarnate', with Rukkhadevata and Nahida being an exception... of sorts? Ish?) which is incredibly important to remember. It's honestly the concept of how 'you can tell a lot about people from their room/home', and here, it ties into potentially one or three(?) characters in a vastly interesting way. /mutters at self and Hoyo.
#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.#[ hmmm. ]#[ many notes in my onenote and discords. ]#[ soon. soon! i'm hoping to type a little something up tomorrow after work and my nap. ]#[ we'll see. it's been illness on top of adulting stress. save me; i just would like to have the december stress and nothing else. ]#[ but it's /that/ which is calmer (unfortunately; actually). ]#[ alright. OFF TO BED FOR ME; it's meanwhile like 1:30. /sad. ]#[ also is this post coherent? we'll never know. ]#[ also also super unrelated note-- UGH. GOD. THE ADDITIONAL BRAINROT OF how neuv is the 2nd character whose... ]#[ story quest isn't named after his constellation. which on its own is logical and i'm not posting it because of neuv but more so-- ]#[ the first one was zhongli. ]#[ the big one who has more to say about khaenri'ah than anyone. WE KNOW THIS. and he can't speak of it. ]#[ zhongli /what are you/. who. what. WHAT IS GOING ON. ]#[ and also also to refer back to the main post-- THIS IS WHY!! THE MEROPIDE!! IS SO IMPORTANT! ]#[ /shakes bars of my cage. ]
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I finished act 2 again, but properly this time. and I cannot even begin to put into words how satisfying and beautiful all of that was. I loved act 2 the first time I played, but figuring out how to save the last light this time, properly completing halsin's quest, storming moonrise towers with jaheira and her harpers, seeing aylin reunite with isobel...all of it. I love it even more. and the beginning of act 3 feels all the more rewarding, having fixed my past errors.
#bg3#bg3 spoilers#thoughts about media#that was. incredible. I can't believe I missed so much the first time I played.#but at least having messed up the first time gives me a greater appreciation for the full story.#I did the “lift the shadowcurse” quest SO assbackwards last time I missed like. 90% of halsin's act 2 dialogue.#he IS cute. I am just STUPID. and learned nothing from dunking on gale before- when that was ALSO my own colossal mistake.#jaheira also gets such a badass moment of glory if her harpers as still alive. if you lose last light like I did before...#...god the assault on moonrise feels so...depressing. I felt so fucking bad for her the first time I played.#but I thought that you couldn't save isobel! and that's just what was supposed to happen! fool was I!#oh and if your tav fails the perception check on mizora when she first sends wyll to rescue zariel's asset- HE renegotiates his contract!#which I like better? I like when the companions get to choose their own fate! I like wyll taking a stand for himself! it was awesome!#and well. if corydalis used his outrageous charisma stat to push mizora into giving wyll a funky new sword? that's just friendship <3#the relationship between aylin and isobel is beautiful. I'm so happy that I replayed to save isobel. I much prefer seeing aylin happy :)#barcus. barcus. barcus. I want to criticise you but I'm in love with astarion so. can I really talk???#well maybe /I/ can't. but corydalis is Aware and playing mental manipulation chess with astarion. out of pure intent. but still.#join our polycule barcus. please. we will treat you better. I promise <3333#anyways. not ready for the buggiest part of the game again. but at least I know what's going on this time.
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