#like its what i deserve at the very least

[conlaluce]

thinking about diluc and kaeya each having their own complicated relationship with religion. crepus is a devout believer of the anemo archon, to me, so he definitely took his kids with him to mass at the cathedral, if not every sunday then at least once or twice a month.

diluc learned to pray from his father; learned to give thanks to the god who gave this city its freedom, the god who blesses them with gentle weather and bountiful lands and protects them from tyranny. he believes wholly and truly in the anemo archon's grace; his father does, after all, and everyone says barbatos is great and benevolent and kind and helped found the nation he loves so dearly.

kaeya doesn't like mass very much, but he never says so. it makes him uncomfortable, especially in the beginning, worshipping one of the gods that his homeland has reviled - but he wants to fit in, he doesn't want to lose his place here. and surely, surely, it would be a dead giveaway to his "true" allegiances if he refused to pray to mondstadt's god. so kaeya closes his eyes and pretends to pray, because better this than losing another home. (better this than failing his mission, than failing in his duty to khaenri'ah.)

and then, diluc's 18th birthday passes. ursa the drake attacks. crepus dies. diluc leaves mondstadt. kaeya is left, alone, the only ragnvindr left (except there aren't any, really, because he isn't a ragnvindr anymore, he isn't allowed to be.)

the first time diluc's vision starts to go out, the light flickering and fading and dying, kaeya prays. for the first time, he doesn't pretend, he doesn't close his eyes and clasp his hands together just for show - he prays.

please. please. let diluc live. please don't let him die. he can't die. i know you hate me, but you can't let him die, he's one of yours, isn't he? he's a child of mondstadt. he has to stay alive. save him, please, please-

(i can't lose him too)

diluc's vision never does go out all the way. it always retains its light, even if only slightly. maybe the anemo archon really did protect him. maybe barbatos answered kaeya's prayers.

sometimes, when diluc's vision is weak, kaeya prays. surely, barbatos will at least grant him this. surely, barbatos wouldn't be opposed to keeping a child of mondstadt safe.

when diluc finally comes back home, kaeya closes his eyes and whispers a quiet thanks to his god.

diluc, on the other hand, no longer prays. hasn't, since that day.

he doesn't think he deserves to.

kaeya said something, that night, about khaenri'ans being sinners. a people who have been condemned by the gods themselves for their sins. he said it so viciously, so bitterly, so sincerely. like he believed it, wholly and truly.

if you're a sinner, then what am i?

kinslayer. a failure of a knight. a man who could not save anyone when it mattered most, who raised a blade to his own family. killer of his own father, and nearly his brother, too. he has learned to kill without feeling the slightest hint of remorse, to steal and torture and deceive. he has committed so many atrocities he can no longer count them all. his sins are far worse than kaeya's have ever been, will ever be.

if you're a sinner, then so am i.

diluc doesn't pray anymore. he's a little scared to.

and besides, no gods would save him now, would they?

not with all the blood on his hands.

some time after his return to mondstadt, diluc starts attending mass again. every sunday, he enters the cathedral with the rest of the crowd, chooses a quiet spot in the back, and waits for the service to begin.

he doesn't pray.

when everyone else's heads are bowed together in prayer, diluc lowers his head to show respect, but his eyes are open. his hands lie still in his lap. he stares at the wood of the pews in front of him as the sister leading the service offers words of thanks to barbatos. he does not pray.

does he even deserve to ask anything of the gods now?

and then diluc finds out the annoying bard that frequents his tavern is actually a god. is actually barbatos. not just any god - his god.

his god trusts him to keep his human guise a secret. his god tolerates him enough to become a regular at his tavern and beg him for freebies.

okay. this is fine.

(vaguely, diluc wonders if it is heresy to say no when your god asks you for something. repeatedly. but their dynamic has been like this for months before venti's true identity was revealed, and the god has shown no indication of wanting to change that. so, for now, diluc will treat him the same as he always has.)

sometimes, he thinks about asking. asking venti - asking barbatos - if he would forgive diluc of his sins. if he deserves to be forgiven.

he never does ask.

[orange-orchard-system]

Since mottos and slogans have been a hot topic in the plural community lately... I want to introduce one that I've been thinking of for a long while now! It's part rallying cry, part "defiance via continued existence", and part punk in the "spikes as a deterrent" way (if that last comparison makes sense at all, lol – I'm specifically thinking of things like how wheelchair users may put spikes on the handles of their 'chair so others don't try to touch or move them without permission). It's this:

"Plural as in there are more of us than you think."

[PT: "Plural as in there are more of us than you think." / end PT]

I've also considered a longer version that would tie in the queer community/queerness – which I know is intertwined with plurality for many people – and that version would be: "Queer as in here without fear, plural as in there are more of us than you think". What do you all think?

I think it's very to-the-point, and plays on a simple premise: that we're not backing down – not in the face of hate, and not in the face of fear. Especially with the longer version; we're here, we're queer, get over it – and if you refuse to, just know that you can't silence us all, no matter how loudly you try to drown us out. We will always be here. There will always be someone to fight against the hate, to spit in the face of bigotry just by continuing to draw breath. It also has a nod to an older queer sentiment that I think we should bring back for both queer and plural folk alike – that we are everywhere. The cashier that scanned your groceries might be plural. The classmate sitting next to you might be plural. The neighbor across the street might be plural. We are here. There are more of us than you think. And we will not be afraid.

"There are more of us than you think" is also a nod to how statistics are often both misunderstood and just plain lacking in data. People really don't seem to realize just how population statistics translate to real life; how many people they pass by or have brief interactions with fit that "extremely rare" condition they dismissed, because something like "1.5%" doesn't look like a lot on paper, but ends up as a whole lot when you wander out into the world. That's at least one out of a hundred – and that estimate is on the more conservative side about one specific presentation of plurality, and doesn't account for many, many other forms of it. So, yeah, there are definitely more of us than they/you think.

I admit it can be read as a tad aggressive, but that's also part of the point. It's meant to be a very in-your-face type of motto, especially as a spit in the face of pluralphobia and all other forms of bigotry it entangles itself with – racism, sanism, disableism, ableism, religious intolerance, queerphobia, etc.. Yeah, your cashier, classmate, neighbor might be plural – and so what?! Yeah, maybe you should think twice about messing with us, because acceptance is growing and you're not going to be able to excuse your hateful nonsense for much longer without it being called out as such! But on the other hand, I think it can work well as a conversation starter, giving people the prompt to ask, "What does that mean?" In this case, the slogan being so provocative works in its favor! Yeah, actually, I'd love to talk about how plurals go unknown and deserve more awareness, how there are almost certainly more of us than even we can know for certain! And, again, spikes on a wheelchair – taking words as an art form, this slogan is art that's meant to make you uncomfortable, to make you question things; "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.", as Cesar A. Cruz said. It makes you scared or uncomfortable to think about there being more plurals out there than you first estimated there to be? Why does it make you feel that? Is this the result of unconscious bias? Why do you think we, the makers of this slogan, might be comforted by the same phrase that disturbs you?

We're plural as in more-than-one in more than one (lol) meaning of the phrase. More-than-one in this body, more-than-one of us out there fighting the good fight – helping others, breaking down walls, and pushing for a kinder and more accepting future.

Plural as in there are more of us than you think. Fuck your hatred, we're gonna be here no matter what.

[bryhoney]

Recognisance pt.5

It's been so long since my last update it's now Pride Month!!! (Yay!!)

Again, I'm sorry it's taken so long - things are still up in the air for my personal life but here we go update time.

EDIT: I left in sections from a previous draft that kind of muddles up which Ghost the reader confronts. Very sorry!!! Edited out now!!!

<- Previous Next ->

He’s standing 20 feet away from you, on the other side of the server room. He’s holding his rifle out in front of him - aiming directly at you. 

He’s barely visible in the darkness, his figure illuminated only by the red glow that dips in and out. He appears entirely unphased as he inches closer to you, as though he is preparing to strike.  

You can barely think straight, utterly terrified to face a Ghost again. 

“Don’t cry yet, there’s so much-”

Your hand doesn’t shake as you aim your pistol towards him - your body resolute in its mission to fight. You would not be going anywhere with this bastard. 

You’d kill him before he harmed you again.

The ghost calls out your name softly as though he’s trying not to scare you. It’s almost a whisper, but you can tell there’s no shock in his voice, he knew you were here. He sounds devastated. 

“Kid?” his stance falters, his shoulders drop and he takes a step forward

Pain and darkness and laughter. Silver catches in the light as it moves closer to your skin. 

You push the memory away, now is not the time for this. Even the slightest distraction will allow him an opportunity to kill you. This man was one of the finest the Americans had - you would not best his reaction time. 

“Stay right there!” you yell across the space between you, voice unwavering and strong despite being up against an opponent whose skills you simply couldn’t match. He was a Ghost after all and you were? 

“It’s me, I-” He says softly, “Do you know who I am?” he asks like he’s trying to tame a wild animal.

“Shut the fuck up” you snap at him. How dare he speak to you like that? Your fear was morphing into abject rage and your finger itched at the trigger. Yet, despite everything Rorke’s ever told you, the desire for answers currently outweighs your desire for revenge. 

You decide you want to know who you’re about to kill. 

You’re desperately trying to recall the images plastered around the base of the Ghosts, trying to piece together which mask matched the ghost in front of you. 

He takes yet another footstep towards you and whispers your name again, his gun lowers away from you ever so slightly. 

You readjust by centimetres and fire, shooting his left shoulder. A warning shot. 

He stumbles backwards slightly, quickly catching his footing. He hisses in pain but that’s all the reaction he gives you from the impact. You’re almost disappointed. 

He doesn’t deserve a warning. At least that’s what you tell yourself - you don’t want to think about how, just for a moment, you were scared you might have miscalculated. That your shot might have rang true, killing him.

Why would that scare you?

He takes a step backwards, somehow managing to keep ahold of his rifle amidst the chaos, which is now aimed back at you. Yet, it doesn't feel steadfast, more half-hearted than anything.

Your breathing is shallow and is absolutely giving away how much adrenaline is coursing through you. You notice your hand is shaking now, and you take a step backwards towards safety. 

“I guess I should’ve seen that coming, huh?” he huffs, it feels like it should’ve been a laugh but his rigid roll of his shoulders gives away his discomfort. 

“Why- How could-?” you shake your head, angry at your inability to control your emotions. You must sound so weak and vulnerable. You were back in the hole again. 

“Look- Kid, this isn’t the reunion either of us wanted, believe me- but we’ve gotta move. Now.” his voice is low and urgent - he sounds utterly in control. “We’ve got to get you out of here, and we’ve got to go now” he brings his hand up to his comms device and you suddenly harden, clenching your jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare” You grit your teeth and aim your gun at him again, you might be able to take one ghost out, but no more. 

“Keegan, really? Are you fucking serious? She’s my-”

It’s the voice you once heard comforting you. It’s your father’s voice. Elias’s voice and its sudden invasion cripples you. You stagger back, trying not to lose your sudden advantage over the ghost whose gun is now only gripped by one hand.

“Dammit, we’ve gotta go now” There’s an urgency to his voice as his comms chatter too quietly for you to make out over the alarm. 

He hurt you. 

“I should kill you!” It was meant to sound threatening, but it’s more of a question. 

“We don’t have time for this, lower the gun, Walker” I can hear the frustration mounting in his voice an-

“Walker?” you’re heart sinks. No. No. NO. 

He pauses, “Oh kid, no- What’ve they done to you” he sounds sad. 

“You’re an idiot” the man with the deep voice, he’s laughing. He has the same voice as the man in front-

“You’re a Walker —-- and thr–gh, a certified idiot - I thought may– it was just the men – —- family”, there’s more laughter. 

You feel tears run down your face, “No” is about all you can manage. Your breathing is erratic and your stance is forgotten, the gun is lowered but he doesn’t take advantage of the situation. 

“Higher! H–! Lo will c-tch me!” you’re a child. Happy. 

“That’s your name, look I’m- we’ve gotta get you out of-” he begins, softly, urgently, but the doors to the server room crash open before he can continue. 

“Keegan?” you whisper. It’s him - his gravelly voice. He’s the voice that’s… “No-”

He lurches forward reaching out for you, and every instinct in your body tells you to fight. Yet, the movement is all too familiar-

Your gun is raised and he stalls, before, yelling, “KID, C’MON” as he runs for cover. You’re standing out in the open as gunfire ricochets around you. 

Every instinct tells you that this man is safe. But the memories of what the ghosts did to you are so overwhelming. So terrifyingly real that you can’t move. You desperately want to, but you just can’t. Your brain is too consumed with trying to piece together that you’re a Walker. 

Your dad is Elias. Your brothers are Logan and Hesh Walker. 

It’s only at the thought of them that you jolt back into action. Despite being willing participants in your torture, something doesn’t fit right. 

No, they didn’t- it wasn’t. You love them, they love- loved you. 

You’re surrounded by Federation soldiers, it’s too late for any escape with him now. But it’s not too late to help them. You’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to help them after everything. It’s too scrambled to make sense so you push it out of your mind. 

“I’ve got you! You won’t fall!” 

A tear escapes you.

Some of the soldiers grab you, and you try shrugging them off, “don't touch me,” is all you manage. They chatter amongst themselves, organising a search for the Ghosts. Some of the men begin escorting you back down the way they came. You have a mission in mind; get to one of the surveillance rooms. 

—

The alarm is still blaring when you reach the surveillance room, it’s empty. You ask the guards to lock you in and stand watch so the ghosts can’t get to you. It’s not a convincing rouse, but they don’t question it too much. 

Inside the room, you try to calmly make your way to the observation deck, it’s small but it’s got enough controls that you might be able to be of some use. There’s only one man inside the room with you and he's relatively easy to disarm, even easier to immobilise. You’re not entirely sure how you did it, it was almost a reflex.

Ignoring the shouting coming from his radio, your eyes scan across the series of monitors in front of you. 

You find them quickly, they’re in one of the lower levels, two of them standing next to one of the doors that lead to an external tunnel that burrows into the nearest mountain. They’re trying to blow the door out with some sort of explosive, while two others are kickstarting a car to life. 

You can see the button that will open the door, but you press another, the one that locks the hanger door behind them just before Federation soldiers can burst through. 

You unlock the tunnel door, and open comms, “Go” is all you manage as the door springs open. One of the Ghosts shouts your name, and you hold back a sob. It’s Hesh. It’s your brother Hesh. 

The ghost standing next to him has to forcibly wrestle him into the car before they make their escape. You press another button and the door seals shut behind him. 

You destroy all the footage you can, but it won’t do anything. If they want to find it, they will. 

You’ve sentenced yourself to death for men who tried to kill you. For men who are your family. Rorke had given you a false name, he had redacted your information from the dossiers on the Walkers. 

He’d tried to erase you.

Nothing made sense, you’d seen the ghosts hurt you. You’d felt it and lived it for months and months and months. You’d never seen-

The door opens and Rorke stands on the threshold. 

You’re crying, breathing rapidly as you point the gun towards him, “Gabriel? What’s happening to me?” you feel like you’re shutting down. He’s going to look after you.

He’s going to kill you.

He puts his hands up, “We’ve got you, it’s alright”. 

You shake your head, “You lied to me. I’m-” he’s already crossed the distance between you and has lowered your gun. You’re shaking and you hate the conclusion that’s slowly forming in your head. The resolve that is building in you. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” it’s soft, thinly threat. He nods his head towards the control panels that you’ve deactivated, “don’t we?’. 

You hate that another sob escapes you. How weak you are. 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re alright, kid” it’s his voice again. 

Rorke hauls you away, and you’re less concerned with your safety and find your thoughts drifting back to one, unmistakable fact. 

Rorke killed Elias. 

Rorke killed your father. 

[i-cant-sing]

I'm surprised by how open you are about your views on 'controversial' topics. As someone who works in a hospital and a certain group of university in the US, I had to sign a contract that prevents me from speaking out on these matters. How do you manage discussing such topics in your role?

I mean where I'm from, we have much bigger issues than just someone's opinions. Idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but i dont be just going about and giving my opinions to everyone and anyone. No, not everyone gets it and my time is far much more valuable than to talk sense to an ignorant person who will just make it look like im banging my head against the wall. Also because opinions are constantly changing because Im also in a growing age and im still learning new things everyday. if you were to see my views from 10 years back, youd be surprised. but then again, i was still a teen back then and i was easily influenced so back then i used to think being a feminist is being "anti man" or that being "feminine" is wrong and weak, which is not true obviously.

again idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but im gonna take a guess its about the gaza genocide being comitted by israel and look, there is only one fact, not opinion but FACT! and thats that Israel is murdering Palestinians actively, torturing them, doing ethnic cleanising and still trynna defend themselves for murdering babies in the worst way possible, and then some. there is no other side to this- there is no excuse for israel to do this, not now, not then and not ever. they are comitting crimes WAY WORSE THAN THEIR OWN HOLOCAUST, and its so enraging to see how nonchalant they are about it, how they have ZERO humanity, how they are actually worse than the NAZIS- imagine being worse than Nazis.

now back to your question- how do i manage giving my two cents on this? I'm Muslim, and even if I wasnt i think its the pretty obvious and sane thing to do, but Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said: "Whoever sees something evil should change it with his hands. If he cannot, then with his tongue; and if he cannot do that, then in his heart- and that is the weakest of faith"

So if anyone of you can go volunteer in Gaza, or give humanatarian aid or donate, then he should do so. If you are not in a position to do that, then you should speak up, go to protests, post on your socials and raise awareness and keep up the boycott. If you are not even able to do that for whatever reason, then at least in your heart you should know that this is evil, go pray for palestinians, and keep on reminding yourself so that you dont get brainwashed into any western propaganda ever again about how Muslims are just deserving of this horrendous hate crime on such a level.

secondly, my reason for speaking up about this is because lets just forget for a moment that palestinians are majorly muslims and this is islamophobia. lets just consider them humans, okay? u could hate muslims adults all u want, but kids dont really have that much of a grasp on religion right? so, do you think that if Israel has and continues to comit a massacre on this level while the entire world watches, while everyone calls them out on their shit, while they have repeatedly documented their own disgusting tortures and crimes against these palestinians, have been called out by UN and the INTERNATIONA CRIMINAL COURT numerous times and they still continue on with this genocide, then what makes you think that you or i are safe?

If we let this continue on, if we dont speak up, then this is just giving a free pass to not only Israel but also anyone to go absolutely batshit crazy on any other country. The very fact that youre not in gaza and sitting in your home safe and cozy is by pure luck. But luck runs out eventually. And karma comes. What goes around, comes around. You stay quiet today over this matter, you dont try to help palestinians, then no one's gonna come for you too.

[deusvervewrites]

I think you're right with Bakugo losing his quirk being something interesting for the series. I get that the intended reading (or at least a rather common interpretation in the fandom) of his character is supposed to be that he's generally completed his redemption, but to me it feels like its still got a lot to cover, mostly because I don't think that it dug that deep into his mindset or really made him actually reevaluate Why he wanted to be a hero.

I'm not saying he didn't have a character arc, its just that what arc was there was very slow paced, and kinda makes it look painfully slower when you compare it to the constant escalation of the rest of the plot. In theory its an interesting look into how changing as a person comes slowly, but in practice there's really only so long I can stand watching some little dick waffle about on whether or not he should treat people with basic human decency when he's looking to take on a position of power.

Like yeah he starts to respect his classmates, but to me it feels more like that respect came solely from recognizing their power rather than realizing that everyone deserves respect. It would be a solid start to an improvement arc! But no, its at what a lot of people think to be is the peak of Bakugo's redemption.

Especially in regards to Midoriya. Everyone cheers on the fact that he now sees him as a rival and even finds joy in their competition, but it currently falls flat to me because. its just validating Bakugo's power-based worldview now that Midoriya has a quirk. like sure he respects his heroic skills but does he respect him as a person?

But now, if he's lost his quirk... He's going to have to fully confront How Exactly He Fucked Up. No rationalizing that someone deserves his respect because they're as powerful as him and can compete against him in a game he's gonna win! Its either he rethinks his entire worldview or he wallows in his own misery at being quirkless, and there's no way that the story will go the second route, especially if Midoriya's own quirklessness sticks.

And honestly? that would be the most fulfilling ending to his character to me. Bakugo not being a hero would probably piss a rather vocal portion of the fanbase off, especially if Midoriya pulls off becoming a quirkless hero, but it would be very satisfying to me in particular, so. Yeah.

(OOPS this got long. My bad. I just started typing and it just spilled out)

I mean. I wrote a 1300 word essay on the problems I have with Bakugou's character arc. And like I said, his dialogue is worded once again to place value in Midoriya's Quirk over him. Personally I was hoping that Bakugou would be the Quirkless Hero because it would be a poetic inversion of how the series started while also showing a mindset that doesn't put that kind of value into Quirks.

Bakugou has some really good moments. The Final War has done a lot of good with him and addressed most of the issues I've had with his character overall. But with Bakugou you never know when you're gonna get a moment where he, I dunno, spitballing here, overhears that Midoriya lost his Quirk and starts crying because they can't compete anymore. Or physically attacks Midoriya for slapstick comedy. Wouldn't that be a weird writing decision? Making a joke about how Bakugou still attacks Midoriya? Over 250 chapters in? That'd be fucking weird.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Euron Greyjoy w/ Siren!Reader

Euron grew up hearing the tales of the children of the sea; the sirens who sang their songs and all the men they lured to their deaths, along with their ships. He’d always dreamed of coming across one, catching it and having it for his own.

The thought of having his siren never strayed far from his mind, everytime he was at sea it was all he could think of. He would swear he felt something deep in the water watching him. Following him. Studying him. Teasing him. He knew they were out there, waiting for him. And this only ignited his need to find his siren all the more.

Usually most ironborn take a share of the plunder from their pillaging, especially the captains but not Euron. No, he knows there is a much more valuable treasure out there. Something far more worthwhile. Something only for him.

When the day finally comes and Euron hears that hauntingly beautiful song, he knows he’s got his siren and he’s not going to lose them. Whatever plans, whatever destination there was before is quickly forgotten in place of finally getting what belongs to him.

And what a sight you are to behold when he does finally catch you. You’re beautiful, so frighteningly beautiful. But he’s not scared, after all this is Euron we’re talking about, on the contrary he’s excited. Very excited. You have him feeling euphoric and he loves it. The look of complete shock, anger and fear at finally being caught that washes over your mesmerizing face has Euron feeling even more euphoric. He likes that look on you, he likes it a lot.

As much as Euron has grown so accustomed to this drawn out game of cat and mouse, a game that he has come to take much excitement and anticipation in, he couldn’t be more thrilled to have finally caught you. A part of him almost wants to throw you back into the sea just to be able to chase after and catch you all over again but he’d much rather finally claim what’s been rightfully his all this time.

People said he was mad, that the seas had corrupted him but he knew better than to listen to them. After all he’s got you now, the proof to his unrelentingness. And he can’t bring himself to take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a thing; every part of your being, Euron wants to memorize it all.

He’s already prepared a place to keep you, a tank he had specifically made just for you. Quite a well crafted and spacious enough little home where he can watch you whenever he pleases and you’re entirely unable to hide away from his prying gaze. You are his trophy, his gift from the sea that he has waited so long to receive. Of course he wants to be able to look upon you whenever he wishes, it’s his right after all. After everything he’s done to get you in the first place the least he deserves is to see his catch in all its maddening glory.

And maddening you are. He thrives on the hateful look you send his way, the gnashing of your teeth whenever he gets too close, the way you thrash your beautifully scaled body against the thick cage-like glass of your new habitat trying to free yourself. Euron isn’t stupid, of course he’d have your new little home be thoroughly enforced. He may not exactly know what all you are capable of but he has a few ideas and your immense strength was certainly one of them.

After all this time it’s no surprise that Euron would be addicted to your voice, to your song. He’s only ever heard it a few times in his life but he saved it to memory, he would’ve been a fool not to. Euron even took up whistling a similar tune, primarily to draw you out but it was something that just stuck and he never let it go but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. So once he finally had you that song, your song, was all he ever wanted to hear. And he had nothing to interrupt it, no other noise to take away from it. He’d made sure of that when he cut out all his crewmens’ tongues. You may not have necessarily been the sole reason behind his decision but you were one of them. And if he didn’t have to bark out orders he would have taken their ears too.

As much as Euron would love to have his precious little siren wrapped around his body, he knows they’d break him without a second thought. They’d rip his throat out and spit it back in his face with a sharp toothed grin. Don’t even get him started on the drowning bit, not like he isn’t use to it given his being an Ironborn, if anything it excites him more. But none of these things could possibly strike even an ounce of fear into Euron, I mean he’s committed so much worse with his own bare hands, instead it all captivates him all the more. You truly were meant for him and only him, weren’t you? He’ll make sure to take real good care of you, his Queen of the Sea.

[crazyyluvr]

hi!! can u do a leo valdez x fem!reader oneshot where Leo doesn't feel deserving of reader because reader is quite rich and known as a strong demigod? (similar to percy) hope you're having a good day, and thank u! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

LEO APPRECIATION >:(

pairing: leo valdez x hades!reader

summary: Leo sometimes (always) wonders what he did to deserve you and whether he still deserved you.

genre: slight angst, comfort, fluff

wc: 1.7k

content: fem!reader, she/her, insecure leo, jealousy, no war au

note: i’m so sorry this took so long :(( nonetheless, i hope you enjoy

short oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

You, in every single aspect and form, were absolutely breathtaking.

You were beautiful, kind, and powerful. Being born a daughter of Hades, one of the Big Three Olympians, granted you an interesting allure that many girls and boys alike in Camp Half-Blood noticed.

Not only that, but you were from a wealthy mortal family, and after your mother passed away, all that money went to her only child, aka you.

If anyone thought of perfection, they thought of you.

Or, at least, that was how it was for Leo.

He almost couldn’t believe it when you said you felt the same for him when he finally worked up the courage to confess his feelings for you. How could you, enigmatic, formidable, and undoubtedly stunning you end up with someone like him?

He saw the gazes others threw at you, gazes that were all but innocent. He was well aware that many liked you as well, some guys much more attractive and powerful than him, and yet you never gave them another glance. Your eyes were only on him, even if he found that almost unbelievable.

With this insecurity also brew some sort of envy as your relationship progressed and your friendship strengthened even more.

He took more notice to you when you would train on camp grounds, alternating between your weapon and your shadow abilities. Combat for you seemed to be a breeze, and when you sparred with some challenger, you would barely break a sweat as you showed them their place.

You weren’t only desired by many. You were also feared. Feared because Hades’ powers were not exactly pleasing on the eye and because in your hands, it was unpredictable.

He knows that he shouldn’t be feeling that way, that it was selfish and stupid, but that didn’t stop the envy from festering.

He thought you wouldn’t notice. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it behind his boyish grins and his snarky comebacks.

But you noticed.

You always did.

You decided to speak up about it after he excused himself from one of your usual spars together. You liked fighting against him since his fire countered your shadows and made everything more challenging for you. Plus, you thought he looked very attractive when he was all focused.

He left without so much as a measly reason muttered under his breath before he dashed away, leaving you confused and worried over him.

"Leo!" You called, but he didn't look over his shoulder even once before he disappeared from the training grounds and out of your sight.

You sighed, putting your practice weapon back in its stand before closing your eyes, reaching out to the shadows and envisioning the one place Leo always retreated to whenever something bugged him.

Cabin Nine.

You stepped through the shadows and cursed when you found yourself emerging from under a table. You rubbed you head and crawled out of the shadows.

"What's on your mind now, Leo?" You muttered to yourself, spotting a chair against the wall of the workshop and propping yourself up on it, interlacing your fingers as you patiently waited for your lover to make an appearance.

The metal door to the cabin clicked and hummed as the person outside opened it. You knew it was Leo. Only children of Hephaestus could open the door, and the Hephaestus kids aside from your lover rarely visited the cabin nowadays.

When the door swung open, you didn't move from your spot, hidden by a big, unfinished engine. You kept your eyes on your lover, watching him grab a clean rag from the table and sling it over his left shoulder and swipe a couple tools and put them in the holders on his utility belt that he's rarely seen without nowadays.

He approached the big piece of machinery in the middle of the workshop, muttering under his breath. His face, normally grinning and carefree, was now troubled as he brought out a driver and fiddled with the machine.

He still wasn't aware of your presence, so you decided to make yourself known.

"Wanna tell me what's been up with you these past few days?"

Leo let out a curse in Spanish as he jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide with shock as he held his driver up like a weapon.

He sighed when he saw who it was. "Oh. Hi."

You raised an eyebrow. Not even a smile.

"Answer my question, please."

Leo looked at you for a moment before sighing again and turning back to his machine, but he didn't work on it anymore.

"I'm just... not feeling well."

"You're not sick, I would've noticed. What I did notice, though, was how you've been acting weird around me, and how you look at me when I train — like I'm a stale piece of bread or something. What's up with that?"

Your words seemed harsh, but your tone was soft and full of concern. You knew that he had some kind of unknown issue with you, and you can't bear him ignoring you. It stung a bit, especially since he obviously wasn't planning on telling you what his problem was.

Leo sighed. His hands that were now slick with grease grasped the cloth on his shoulder, wiping themselves clean before he ran them through his unruly curly hair. "I'm sorry, amor. It's just — I've been —"

He threw his head back in frustration when the words couldn't leave his mouth. You approached him and gently pulled his hands out of his hair to prevent them from harshly tugging at the strands. "Take your time Leo. It's okay."

Leo averted his eyes from you, but you took no offense to it. You knew how he struggled with eye contact most of the time. He took deep breaths before continuing. "You know how I had a problem with Jason before?"

"Yeah?" You said, frowning at the implication. You knew that Leo and Jason had a disagreement in one of their quests where Leo told the son of Jupiter that he was envious of him and his power and good looks and... goody two-shoe-ness. "Do you have a similar issue with me?"

"What?" Leo took his hands away from yours to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. "No! No, it's not like that — okay, well maybe it is, but it isn't as bad as with Jason. And a lot of people like you, people who are better than me and who you probably deserve more, and I just... I don't know."

The corners of your lips were pulled downwards slightly. You weren't oblivious to your own power, or the high regard that most demigods — even some gods — held you in. As a child of Hades, having a good reputation among people was pretty rare, since most demigods steered clear from Hades-spawn, but you changed that.

You didn't know that Leo was insecure about that.

Leo noticed your distraught expression. "Hey, it's not your fault. It's just... I know it's stupid for me to feel that way, and I'm sorr —"

"Don't you dare take the blame for this," you interrupted him, your tone sharpening dangerously as you looked at him. "You don't have to apologize for that. The only thing that either of us should feel sorry about was the fact that we never sorted this out before."

"Yeah," Leo said, gaze trained to his dirtied boots.

You let out a breath from your nose, and grabbed Leo's shoulders to pull him toward you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, ignoring his dirty short and the light sheen of sweat on his brown skin.

"You downgrade yourself too much, Leo," you whispered in his ear, closing your eyes and smiling when you felt his arms slowly encircle your waist. "I may be strong, but that doesn't mean that you aren't. You made the ability to control fire less scary to the other campers, even when the last fire-wielder of Hephaestus caused a lot of chaos. You literally fixed a dragon, for gods' sake. The one that's been terrorizing the camp since the Beckendorf kid passed, the one that other Hephaestus kids tried and failed to tame, you did that."

You pulled away and put your palms on his cheeks so you could look at him, and this time, Leo met your eyes. "You are strong, and charismatic, and so, so beautiful. Don't forget that."

Leo smiled, but you could tell he didn't really believe your words.

"Look, not everyone's gonna like you, like how not everyone likes me — it's true!" You said when Leo scoffed a laugh. "Outside of camp, when I come across new monsters, gods, or demigods, the first thing they see is a child of the Underworld and immediately hate me."

"But a lot of people in camp like you," Leo said, a bit of bitterness in his tone. He hated how he sounded, but he saw that his words didn't deter you; they motivated you to continue.

"Yeah, sure, but that's because they know who I am," you replied. "The people who don't like you, the ones that think you're weak, those people don't know Leo Valdez like I do, because I know Leo Valdez is just as formidable as any demigod. And I only have eyes on him, no one else, because I can never love anyone else as much as I love him."

"I love you too," he grinned, and you were relieved to see that his smile held its usual warmth and brilliance. He leaned in and kissed your nose, making you laugh slightly.

"Thanks for cheering me up, amor. I really appreciate it," he said sincerely. "I know you said not to apologize, but I owe you one. I'm sorry for not telling you about this sooner and for ignoring and avoiding you."

You returned his smile. "You don't have to apologize, but you can give me a proper kiss to rectify your mistakes."

Leo laughed, for real this time, before giving you what you wanted, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss in the workshop in the middle of the woods, with only pieces of equipment and machinery bearing witness to the love you had for each other.

[z00r0p4]

when a potentially quality-of-life-improving medication isn't covered by ur insurance and you want to find every big pharma and health insurance ceo and ship them off in.... some sort of a craft... that absolutely has not been certified by any regulatory body.

[ghastlyaffairs]

for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of

also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut

the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)

[the-acid-pear]

Honestly the best part about True Neutral Jack to me is the fact he... doesn't even really care for the money. Sure he cares about the business growing and expanding but like, in his personal life? He's not doing shit with it for what we see. Like he's not this capitalist sigma grinder type with big dreams or goals like owning a mansion or some shit. Like im sure even if he was a millonaire he'd still be wearing the same suit and living in the same house and likely using the same cheap paint. He just needed a hobbie to run from the skeletons in his closet.

[fungi-maestro]

Questionable Images 1/2 - The Question #8 (1987)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

man, your art is always so shaped. *eats it*

you drew human wally so adorable!!

ALSO

i LOVE reading tags on your art. so many thoughts i simply MUST imbibe. thank you

slowly (and Emotionally) breakdancing in my room over this ask <3<3<3

[collieii]

saw this at a museum today and ik im crazy but.....is it just me or is this so vashwood

[lovelyrotter]

yknow i love transmasc/tboy dirk always and forever but the way some ppl treat transmascness vs transfemmeness in HS's narrative........kinda sucks. like the whole thing about how being transfeminine is a literal transient experience and lets the character in question (any character) truly escape the oppression of HS's narrative-as-a-character which is patriarchal and toxic (lord english, hussie-the-character to an extent. i guess. idk ive seen a lotta ppl lump SI-hussie in w/ this), which is great and does hold weight as an analytical lens esp with how hussie irl is nonbinary. but where does this leave transmasc characters. why are we treating (headcanoned) transfemme HS characters like this and then tbh gleefully dooming (headcanoned) transmasc characters to eternal narrative suffering brought by LE and then mocking them for being ''gross tboys'' full of ''icky testorerone'' so its their fault theyre in this perpetual torment really? because they ''''chose to be a man''''? dunno man its starting to feel bad. especially since some bnf's who are really into this fan theory do actually kinda treat the general idea of transmasculinity like somthing to hold with tongs at arms length away from them. as if its alien or infectous or something and then get really mad when equally dysphoric transmascs do the same with feminity. why are we dooming dirk strider to eternal toxic-masculine suffering and what does that say about how we treat real life transmasc folks both in and outside of the fandom

[8lah8lah]

"both sides of shipcourse are wrong" says person about to not bat a fucking eye when someone on one side gets chased off the fucking internet and doxxed and told they deserve assault for liking ships that are abusive in a way they dont immediately understand/relate to. "shipping discourse is just sooo dumb and immature" says person about to fucking gasp and scream and tell all their mutuals and post "STOP putting ***** on my dash in 202_" vagues like A Gross Drawing Existing In The World is going to singlehandedly groom and traumatize and enable and Normalize everything for everyone on the planet simultaneously for simply being put out there and it being out there is a category 10000 mental safety hazard that they must bravely defend people from. "youre stupid if you care about ship discourse lmao" posts brave tumblr user about to get really upset publically over One person they saw shipping a like, 4-year age gap between two fictional chars that's there if you Squint, an opinion that Clearly has NOTHING to do with very specifically one side of the discourse