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starvail · 4 months

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the end is nigh, but who is to say that is a bad thing?

gn!childofapollo!reader

synopsis : you were one of the very few children of apollo that inherited the gift of prophetic visions. however, they could range from what was for dinner to the outcome of a life changing event. and as inconvenient as it was, you knew that this vision was different.

content : swearing, lowkey spoilers ig, depiction of book!percy

words : < 600

a/n : just a silly little scenario i dreamt of last night, teehee 🤭

you woke up that morning thinking that you’d be having a merry fun time, picking strawberries with your brothers and sisters, gossiping while also having a competition of who could pick the most before the lunch time conch sounded.

what you didn’t anticipate would be the surging pain of a prophecy that was just far too large in its importance for your half-blood mind to handle.

"c-canvas," you plead to nobody in particular, but hoping at least one of your siblings would get the memo.

the colour sea green flashes across your mind.

you stumble back to your feet, not caring for your fallen strawberry basket and the berries you step on, "i need the biggest fucking canvas at the rec room. and i need it now!"

and after you kick out any inhabitants that were previously inside, you do not leave the arts and crafts recreational centre that day.

multiple of your siblings had urged chiron to let them check up on you after the passing of the second day, but he ultimately denies their pleas. he knows of your gift, and knows that this vision would not be the same as the others. this needs time.

chiron had said that five days ago and now believes you have had ample time. the activities director goes to knock on the door, but somehow sensing the tension, a breeze pushes it open.

it creaks until the hinges could not open upon itself any more. he invites himself in (also choosing to ignore the curious campers behind him).

to say the room was a mess would be an understatement.

there was spilled and splattered paint that would surely stain both the walls and floor; dirty paintbrushes of all sizes were stuffed anywhere that was considered somewhat of a cup; a small, one metre step ladder to your right; cabinets and drawers all flung open.

but there you stood, at the centre of it all. admiring your work. all 100x150 inches of it.

sweat visibly lined your clothes, and you were panting as if you ran a marathon. and for some reason, a dagger was at the mercy of your hands rather than a brush.

you turn to face your audience, a tired and fulfilled smile plasters your face.

the dagger slips from your grasp and rattles against the floorboard, it being the only sound that echoes briefly within the room.

your knees buckle but before you could fall, two of your brothers had caught you, ushering your body to the infirmary.

chiron wordlessly touches the canvas. it is dry. he deduces that you have been staring at it for hours on end.

the centaur had lived many centuries, but no words in the languages he knows could begin to describe what he had thought upon analysing the masterpiece; one that he assumes that you will soon be calling your magnum opus.

dark, thunderous clouds that depicted lightning. stormy and unforgiving waves. a golden fleece that lay against a tree. a hole in the ground. scattered helmets and swords. there were far too many things happening at once.

but there stood a figure, proudly painted at the centre.

with the stature of a boy who had only freshly turned a teen, he had dark hair and sunkissed skin, a grin that bordered rebellious and playful, and a sword that glowed with power.

however, the one thing that everybody could really and truly focus on, were the jagged slashes where the boy's eyes should be. the colour unbeknownst to the world but you.

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #apollo!reader #gn!reader #reader insert #x reader #pjo x reader

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starvail · 9 months

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just lyney a common criminal.

lyney / gn!detective!reader

synopsis : you never imagined that you would experience such a detrimental loss of trust, in someone you thought you would spend your future with, in just a few hours - but you guess you haven’t thought there would be a day where you would have to interrogate your partner over his true identity, either.

content : very short, established relationship, angst, hurt/no comfort. major 4.0 archon quest spoilers!!

words : < 1k

a/n : the povs are constantly changing to highlight how disorganised the reader and lyney’s thoughts are on each other because of the current events. so if you think the narrative is messy, it’s intentional!

“15:33, chief detective [full name]. interrogating mister lyney snezhevich for being prime suspect for…”

lyney doesn’t like this. the way you say his name sounds so bitter and cold, similar to the biting weather in snezhnaya. your voice wasn’t it’s usual inviting tone, your posture was tense, with shoulders back and head tilted while you read the documents that were flush against the table.

“…discrepancies to the testimony you have given to the court trial will result in a one hundred thousand mora fine and another public hearing.”

this would be the first time where lyney will have experienced your work persona and he wished he never had to at all.

not because he is worried about what you would do to him, nor potential punishments for the crimes he supposedly committed, but because he knows that you are unforgiving and merciless; as long as he is in this room, with handcuffs around his wrists and crimes to his name, in your eyes, the two of you are nothing more than strangers that know a little too much about each other.

however, in your own case, you think that perhaps you don’t really know lyney at all, the real one anyways.

“i don’t understand why you’re interrogating me like i’m some common criminal,” lyney tries to jokingly reason for you to relax, but your hardened expression does not falter in the presence of his plea.

not wanting this to be included in the recording, you pause the device.

“sir,” something dies inside lyney when you address him with such formality. no ‘love’, no ‘sweetheart’, no ‘starlight’. in your mind, he had lost that privilege the moment the papers were served to you.

“we are in a professional setting. i ask that you keep all conversation unrelated to the trial to yourself, or until after the record has finished.”

“but it’s me, lyney. your lyney.” his hands attempt to reach out for your own, “you don’t have to act like this with me-”, but you pull back. he visibly wilts at the rejection, you swear you hear something shatter.

and your heart hurts, burning with remorse. it squeezes and squirms at the sight of your partner, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, to tell him that this wouldn’t take long and that everything is okay.

but absolutely nothing is okay, your mind echoes back.

for all the years you have known him for, it’s not okay that he didn’t tell you that he was a fatuus; that he was from the house of hearth; that his father was arlecchinco.

it’s not okay that you realised that the very reason why he kept you company, why he held your hands so tightly, why he ‘courted’ you in the first place; was so that a harbinger had surveillance on fontaine’s security affairs with access to a direct source, that being you.

it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots on that note.

you sigh, wanting nothing more than for this to be over, to go home and to grieve the loss of your lover - the imagine you had of him, more so.

“sir, the moment you stepped foot into my interrogation room is the moment you have become ‘some common criminal’. now, i implore that you answer the questions i had previously mentioned.”

you click the device back on again and lyney is forced to face the music.

an hour passes and the interrogation is over the moment the story was concluded, but lyney is not fully present to care. he’s too focused on you. on how no matter what he said, or the amount of time had passed, your cold shoulder still persists.

“thank you for your cooperation, sir.” checking over your documents and the recording, you silently pack everything up, ignoring how indigo eyes stare at you.

but no matter how much you willed them to stop, your hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

you are barely able to insert the key to free lyney from the constraints, let alone pocket the cuffs.

“darling, can we talk, please?” lyney is quick to stand and asserts a firm but gentle hold on your hands. he notes how frosty your finger tips are and he starts thinking that he should warm them-

but you are already forcing yourself away from him. lyney watches you ball your hands into fists and kept them close, as if the notion of his touch disgusts you.

“were you ever going to tell me?” with your voice barely above a whisper, lyney watches your tough exterior begin to crumble. a straight to the point question, and gods, you couldn’t even look at him.

despite this, the both of you knew the answer already.

“… i… i just…!”

he never intended for you to ever find out.

lyney can see your irises swirling with uncertainty and disdain, all directed at him.

he wants to retort that while he hasn’t been honest with you, he does trust you. that, if he were to tell you everything, you would be in danger, a target. he’s been lying to protect you, to protect the ‘us’.

“i… can’t, darling.”

and it’s ironic, that lyney, a renowned entertainer that frequently showcases his abilities to hundreds, is now struggling to find the words and confidence to fully explain himself. years of trained silence and secrecy has rendered him voiceless. lyney does not know where to even begin, but he can feel the ghost of his father’s constricting fingers wrapping around his neck.

“then i think we are done here.”

“(name)-”

“have a good day, sir.”

you do not look back. the door clicks shut. and lyney is alone.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #genshin angst

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