#paper pavilion

[aveartz]

Yellow Butterfly in Purple Lavender Field

[junkshop-disco]

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

part 2

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

[stickytshirt]

Windows

[glassrowboat]

Daydream in a Nightmare

Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.

Mondstadt

Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.

Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.

Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.

Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.

Liyue

Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.

Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.

Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.

Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.

Inazuma

Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.

Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?

Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.

Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.

Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.

Sumeru

Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.

Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.

Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.

Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.

Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.

Fontaine

Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.

Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.

Snezhnaya

Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.

Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.

Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.

Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.

Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.

Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.

[primofate]

Hello! I love your works! 💕 For request how about some fluff with Kabukimono/Kunikuzushi who wasn't abandoned by Ei and he lives in her temple? The reader is personal maid that takes care of Kuni and she has a lil crush on him ? Kuni is not aware of warm feelings he feels for her too! If it's not in your taste that's okay! I wish you and your family to always be healthy!

Oh God, this is so interesting I might get carried away. This is the problem with me and requests I find interesting. I just spend all my time working on ONE request lollllll. I'm so weak, I apologize.

Thank you for sticking with me, by the way. Appreciate the support.

Premise:

Kunikuzushi calls Raiden by "Ei" and sees her more of a sister than a "mother"

He houses the electro gnosis and it hasn't been taken away

Reader is a vision holder, but is not a fighter. More of a healer/support type of person.

He has his own quarters in Tenshukaku but for the purpose of the story his main home would be Shakkei Pavilion

Reader is not the only maid/servant he has.

I'm assuming that Kunikuzushi is way softer than "Scaramouche", but inherently there's still a hint of mischief and trickery in his ways.

Warnings:

I think I may have taken this too far and she's hardly a personal "maid" anymore >_> sorry I hope you still like it.

Story and headcanons start here:

The traits of a Kunikuzushi in love

Does not treat you like a maid.

"What're you doing?" he asks, eyeing the tea you place on the table, then darting up to meet your confused expression.

"...Giving you your daily tea?" You squeak out. You'd been new to the job. Probably a month or two in, and this was one of the daily routines that you had to do and prepare for. Every day was a different blend of tea, sometimes he requested for certain ones. You didn't think there was anything different about the way you did things today.

"Yes, thank you," he adds, but still stares straight at you. "But I meant why are you leaving?"

You blink. It feels like an eternity of silence passes for you didn't have an answer, but he fills it with his voice once again. "Sit down and join me, there isn't anything else for you to do, is there?"

Awkwardly, you slide onto the free zabuton adjacent to him. He calls for another maid, who enters with her head bowed. "...Kindly get another teacup for Y/N,"

"Oh, no, that's alright. I don't need--" you start, but the maid exits and Kunikuzushi abruptly starts talking again. "Ei says that you were hired to be my personal maid,"

You shift in your seat, still not certain about what you're supposed to do in this situation. "Yes, Young Master,"

His face curls into distaste, something about the title makes him uncomfortable but he doesn't protest. "In that case there isn't anything else for you to do except to cater to me, correct?"

You only think for a second. "...That would be...technically correct, yes,"

He hums and continues with what he was doing beforehand, practicing brushstrokes with black ink and parchment paper. "Then join me for tea, and let me know if my handwriting has improved,"

2. Gets irritated when you're on a day off

"Is there something wrong?" Ei asks, her eyes still closed. She peeks an eye open to look at Kunikuzushi's slightly annoyed expression and furrowed brows, then closes her eye again.

"Not at all, sister," but his tone is flat and he had not taken another sip of the tea served with his breakfast today.

There's a few seconds of silence followed by a hum from the Raiden Shogun. "...Then what is the ominous presence coming from your person, little one?"

There's a soft grunt, followed by shifting, a small sigh and a sort of huff. Ei is surprised every day by how much expression Kunikuzushi shows. She had always thought he was fragile, but perhaps he was slowly building his own personality. She finally opens her eyes when she hears a sort of mumble directed at her, she asks for it to be repeated again, as she hadn't heard it clearly.

"...This isn't how Y/N makes my tea," He looked to be a spoiled prince at that moment and it takes a lot for Ei not to break out into a chuckle at his statement.

"There's no way for them to always be around you, Kuni. Y/N deserves to rest from time to time," she states, starting on her own breakfast. There he goes again with that tiny huff, but he doesn't complain more, and opts to keep his mouth shut.

3. is more energetic when you're around--and his sister finally notices

The training session started rather early today. Though you sat on the sidelines watching Ei and Kunikuzushi battle it out, you had gotten used to the clash of electro against electro by this point.

At the beginning it was rather frightening, the sheer amount of power the two of them combined had. You were once scared to be struck by lightning on accident, now it was almost comforting to be around.

"You seem to have more reserves of energy on certain days," Ei exclaims as she sheathes her sword to mark the end of training. You might have imagined it, but you thought her eyes flick over to you for the fastest second.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, sister. It's just like any other day," Kunikuzushi slightly pants, catching his breath. You take that as a signal to stand and bow, then entering the training ring with a cloth in hand.

You scurry over next to him, and offer the cloth for him to take. He takes it with a slight smile, "Thank you, Y/N," and you nod in response.

"I have your change of clothes ready at the hot springs," you say and he always feel a sense of relief that you've got things under control and ready for him, specially after a long training session.

He thanks you again, and excuses himself. "I'll see you outside then, I won't be long," he promises, despite the fact that you've always told him he can take his time to freshen up.

He disappears first, and you bow towards the Raiden before turning to follow him.

"Y/N," the Raiden calls out to you just as Kunikuzushi leaves the room. You stop in your tracks and turn back around. You almost know what she's about to say.

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises," The Raiden whispers. There's a sort of melancholy in the way she says it but a definite determination in the way you answer.

"Of course, your grace,"

4. Feels a sense of insecurity when someone else shows interest towards you.

Despite your title being a "maid" you didn't wear the same purple uniform that all the servants were made to wear. You were still in uniform, but it was a rather official looking garb than what most had.

"It'll be a long meeting today," Kunikuzushi warns you. That was part of your duty now, tagging along wherever he went, and it was just something that he specifically asked you to do.

Diplomatic meetings were held from time to time, this time with a clan head. He was younger than you thought, with a good head on his shoulders. It was something about the import and export goods in the port of Ritou, something that you weren't concerned with, and something that you usually tuned out while waiting for the meeting to end.

Kunikuzushi doesn't quite know why he subjects you to such boring tasks. You could've stayed back at the Pavilion, but what exactly would you do there. It was just a different type of boring.

Contrary to what he thought, you hadn't found it boring at all. In a sense it was your job to watch after him and his needs, and so this was all part of your required tasks.

When the meeting was adjourned everyone stood to bow at each other, it wasn't at the last moment that the clan head acknowledged your presence.

"...Excuse me, though it's been a great chat and I do appreciate your grace's presence today...I'd been wondering," he motions a hand toward you, "if it was possible to grace me with your name,"

You stand there dumbfounded at first, until you realize he was talking to you. "Oh, me? I...am..." you hesitated because you didn't know if it was respectful for someone as low as you to even open your mouth. Each person in the room had their eyes on you now. Everyone, except Kunikuzushi, who had stared the man down as if trying to drown him in an endless gaze, answers for you.

"...This is Y/N," he looked to be thinking about what to say next. "...I'm indebted to them for looking after me all this time,"

"Ah," the clan leader pipes up, tearing his gaze away from you.

Ah what? You wonder. Not completely following the conversation. However, the next thing you know the clan leader had apologized, and Kunikuzushi abruptly turns and starts walking, leaving you to hurriedly follow after him in a slight daze.

5. Thinks about your well being

"Y/N, are you aware that I house the gnosis in my body?" he asked you one day.

"Yes, since the beginning, my lord," you don't know what brings this topic up. The gnosis was almost never talked about.

In the study, there's a moment of silence as he continues to practice his brush strokes. Each flick of his wrist is more precise than before, and you had the mind to compliment him.

"...If the day comes that someone attempts to take it... That's the only time I'd want you to leave me be. Do you understand?"

Your shoulders tense up for only a moment, your eyes tacked on to the calligraphic words he was painting. "...I understand,"

6. Wants to keep you safe

"May I ask your name and affiliation?" You stand at the main doors of Shakkei Pavilion. There are about 4 other servants behind you, standing straight and curious about the commotion.

"Signora, of the Fatui," An elegant looking lady, you thought, but what business could she have here?

"...and your reason for visiting, milady?" You attempt to be polite, offering a smile. Perhaps she was just lost...but that could not be the case, judging from the hoard of armored and weaponed men behind her.

"I heard that there was a person of note residing here," she smiles, her voice is sultry, matching the dress that she wore. She wasn't even trying to hide what she was after now. "I would like an audience with him,"

You turn your head the slightest bit towards a servant and nod at him, he takes the signal and proceeds inside the Pavilion. You turn your attention back to Signora and give her the most pleasant smile you could muster.

"I see. The young master is resting at the moment, I've sent someone in to check if he would like to entertain guests right now...but the chances are low. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I'll certainly tell him that you've come,"

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises,"

The chuckle that Signora lets out sends shivers down your spine, the men behind her start to step forward. "I'm afraid tomorrow would be too late, we'll welcome ourselves in now,"

"...Picking a personal "maid" was a long process, and you were chosen for a reason... When the time comes, there will be those who will attempt to take the gnosis,"

Signora walks forward, but stops in her tracks as a loud BANG BANG BANG resonates in the sky. Fireworks erupt, one by one, a cascading colour of red, and only red. A particular one stands out as it shoots up into the sky, it makes a loud sound, almost like its whistling and whizzing through the air, before it erupts, a trail of bright red smoke hovering in the night sky.

Signora scoffs and finally grins at you. "A signal fire. You're smarter than you look,"

"And if it so happens that we are far away from each other, you're to send a signal to alert me...From there on, what I need is time. Distract them, as much as you can, and keep Kunikuzushi away, as far as you can,"

"What's going on out here--" At the same time that Kunikuzushi appears at the top of the stairs. You turn to look at him once, and once only. You give him a reassuring smile as he asses the situation, eyes darting to and fro before landing on you.

"It'll be fine, milord," you whisper. He most likely couldn't even hear you where he stood. Perhaps the reassurance was for yourself. The ground rumbles, it feels almost like an earthquake. Vines, trees, roots, branches and leaves erupt from the ground behind you. Your dendro vision shines on your shoulder.

7. Won't let you go

"Y/N?!" Kunikuzushi shouts in confusion as the trees keep erupting. They become taller and taller, higher and higher and he can hardly see you now--

It hits him, what you were trying to do. This was a barrier to keep him inside the Pavilion, and to keep the intruders out. Out there with you.

"Y/N!" he starts running down the stairs as vine after vine weave into each other. He still has a glimpse of your back, but the shrubs and the leaves and the branches are closing in.

8. "Stop!"

The trees are higher than ever, forming a thick wall. His legs stumble, almost rolling down the stairs. There's an open hole left, if he could just reach it--

but roots start to swirl into it, he reaches, but his hand touches nothing but vines and soil. "No!" He looks up and around for an opening of any kind. There's none.

It's a solid wall of tangled trees and plant matter. He pushes into it with a grunt and it doesn't budge the slightest bit. When he stills, it's quiet. It's so incredibly quiet that one would not even think there was something happening on the other side of this artificial wall.

9. "This can't be happening,"

Is it a nightmare? He asks himself.

He reaches deep inside for the hidden reserves of electro energy, attempting to put pressure onto the wall, trying to get it to give in. He pushes hit after hit of electro energy spheres, and hit after hit it budges that slightest bit.

It's working, but not fast enough.

"Pathetic!" He says to himself, the words echoing into nothingness, voicing out how he felt about his own powers.

Had he used his full power before? No. There had never been a need to. Who would have thought he would attempt to because of you.

He pulls not only from his electro energy...now he pulls his energy even from the gnosis, and under no circumstance was he allowed to use the full extent of its power. Ei said it might break him...but how far was he willing to go?

10. "Just hang in there, I'm coming,"

The Raiden would be here soon.

Is what you kept telling yourself, despite your bruised and cut up appearance. It was easy enough to stall the Fatui soldiers. Signora was the real problem, and her pyro affinity was even more of a problem for you.

You find yourself cornered, and the crimson with of flames stares down at you. "I'll give you a chance," she starts, voice amused and perky. "Open this wall, and I'll let you live. It's as easy as that. There's no need to throw your life away protecting the gnosis. You're young, a whole life ahead of you,"

You tip your head up, eyes blurring for a split second, headache worsening. You probably hit your head somewhere during the chaos. "...It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

Signora frowns in disappointment, but says nothing else. She didn't like wasting her breath. She lifts her hand above your head and you see a flicker of flames.

Then a bright light.

A bright, purple light, engulfing the entirety of the open area. The two of you recoil and block your eyes.

11. "Back away. Don't touch Y/N,"

You're too tired to open your eyes. But its warm and comfortable. The words and sounds just turns into a buzz in your ears.

A snapshot of memories race through your mind, little pictures of everything in your life leading up to today. Yet most of it consisted of your time serving Kunikuzushi. Tending to him when he was sick, pointing at the cherry blossom tree while out on a walk, looking at the lanterns during the festival.

You were not a maid. You never felt like you were. You were a companion.

Then, your eyes snap open. You bolt up on the bed you're resting in and instantly regret the sudden action. "Augh..." you groan, falling back down on your elbows.

On closer inspection, no one else was in the room. It was just you. You slowly put yourself down to a laying position again, staring at the ceiling.

What happened? You ask yourself, coming up with no answers whatsoever.

12. "You...You're alive,"

It all comes back to you when you see him standing by the sliding door, a cup of water in his hand. You keep each other's gaze for the longest time, until he slowly walks over to the chair next to you...and slumps forward to bury his head into your white sheets.

"...Are you unhurt, milord...?" you whisper, for the silence seems so fragile.

"...Physically, yes," he mumbles. "Mentally...I'm...seething with rage and drowning in...something. I don't know what it is, I just..."

You let nothing be said between the two of you for a few more moments.

"I can breathe now," he continues, and you stay looking at the back of his head. "I can breathe now," he repeats. "That's what it felt like. As if I had lost my breath and it was hard to breathe," He picks his head up to glare at poor old you. "and then I'm angry because neither you nor Ei had told me anything about a plan...If it concerns me, I deserve to know!"

You wince at the sudden increase in volume, and he apologizes quickly. "S-Sorry, I'm...just..." again he struggles to find the words that names his feelings. There's so many things at the same time, it was hard for him to comprehend.

You pipe up for him, "Worried,"

He tosses the word back and forth in his head. Is that what this is? Worry? An emotion so crippling that he was unable to do anything else except wait for you to wake up.

"...but why?" He asks himself aloud. You trace the expressions on his face. He doesn't know.

But you do.

You know exactly why he was feeling that way because you feel it too.

13. "Please don't do that again,"

He almost begs you a few days later, when you've made a full recovery. He can't bear it. He can't imagine what worse things could have happened if he nor Ei didn't make it on time.

"Besides, there's no need to... Ei confiscated the gnosis from me..." he grumbles something about a punishment for using too much of its power.

You hum a little, and repeat what you told Signora. "It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

"...I can take care of myself just fine," he huffs, catching on to what you were implying.

"Oh, then it seems I'm out of a job, young master! A personal maid seems hardly necessary," you were only teasing, but something sort of switches on in his mind. He looks straight at you, and without any hesitation whatsoever,

14. "You are always necessary...Lest I find it hard to breathe,"

This was how he described how he felt, in this straightforward manner yet long winded way. You hide a smile.

Perhaps he'll never understand his own feelings, perhaps he will.

For you, being certain about yours was more than enough.

[gurugirl]

The Church Picnic

priest!harry x subby!reader | soft dom!harry x bratty/sub!reader

Summary: Harry's pet is being being a nuisance at the church picnic so he takes matters into his own hands when she can't seem to behave. Roughly based off this request.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious mentions, smut, sex in a public place, sub/dom dynamic

Forgive Me, Father masterlist

“I need to be spanked, Father,” Y/n whispered into Harry’s ear as he placed food onto his paper plate.

It was the church’s annual picnic in the big park at the center of town. Most of the congregation was there, as well as people invited to join who might be interested in attending the church. It was a way to attract new church members, as well as something fun and laid back for regular members to enjoy with games, food, and a raffle.

The priest had been making his rounds, talking to everyone, greeting the new faces, and making sure things were running smoothly.

Y/n had helped set up with five other church members. She had gotten there early and helped direct the vendors to where they needed to be and figured out where tables and chairs and games would best be placed.

Harry looked down at Y/n who had her plush bottom lip bit into her mouth and shook his head with a sigh, “When we get home I’ll take care of you.”

She was used to being “taken care of” every morning before their day started. Well, before hers started generally. Harry was an early riser. Often he’d leave just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and jog around the neighborhood for exercise while his pet was still in bed. Sometimes he’d come home and she was awake and waiting for him. Other times she’d still be in bed with blankets wrapped around her body.

Either way, they both got what they needed before they had to get into their tasks for the day.

Except for this morning. Harry had to leave early to go to the church before he could get to the park. He and the elders and leaders had some things to do as well as pray over the event before it began. So not only did he not get to have his regular morning workout, but he also didn’t get to enjoy his pet either.

“I need your hands on me now,” she pushed quietly with her words.

Harry turned from the table of food and began to walk away. He knew what she was doing. She often got like this. He imagined she was asking to be spanked because she she hadn't been given proper attention that morning. Or maybe she simply wanted a spanking and probably an orgasm. Either way, Harry couldn’t think about it too much because he was among his members and other leaders of the church.

Y/n casually followed behind him. Not bothering to try and keep up with his long-legged strides because she knew he was headed to a picnic table to sit and eat. She was confident that she was going to get her way.

Harry slid into the bench of the picnic table at the end across from Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds.

She slowed her steps when she saw who was next to.

The Jeralds.

She’d been avoiding them since the night after the prayer meeting when she was sure that they’d been caught with Harry calling her a good girl. So far nothing had come of that little oversight. The Jeralds either hadn’t actually heard or seen anything (in which case Y/n was relieved but perplexed because Harry had been so obvious with his hands on her neck, the way he’d been stood so close, and the words he spoke) or maybe… they just decided to not tell anyone. Y/n figured it was the latter because she’d seen the looks from Mrs. Jeralds’ end and noticed how her demeanor had changed around both herself and the priest.  Wondered if Mr. Jeralds had told her to keep quiet and not cause a scene.

Walking behind the Jeralds she kept her eyes on Harry to get his attention. When he looked up at her she tilted her head toward the pavilion and raised her brows at him. But he didn’t budge. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. And she, of course, wouldn't make this easy for him either.

He watched her pout and cross her arms over her chest as she sulked away. He was sure she wasn’t done with her little show. Would probably have to really keep her in check in front of everyone. He could tell she was in a mood. Though, he trusted she wouldn’t do anything to out their little secret she could get bratty with him.

Not long after Harry had finished his lunch he spotted Y/n talking to a young man who he’d never had the pleasure of meeting. So he approached the pair, not because he was jealous, but because he wanted to greet the new face.

Shaking the guy’s hand and introducing himself he learned that the man was Mrs. Jeralds’ cousin. The one she wanted Y/n to meet. He frowned at his pet as she put her hand on the young man’s shoulder, “And he’s working at that place downtown, Debrille,” she turned to look back at the guy, “You’ve gotta be so smart to be working there, Austin.” She spoke and Harry knew she was trying to make him jealous.

He watched the two talk for a moment, his pet’s hand never leaving the guy’s shoulder before interrupting, “It was nice to meet you, Austin. Y/n, I think Cheryl was asking for you back there. You should go see if she needs help.” He lied. A small little fib to get Y/n to move away from the handsome young man. He was not jealous of course. Just annoyed.

Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes at the priest (not within eyeshot of anyone) but deep down she was patting herself on the back for a job well done. She was wearing away at him.

After Y/n had helped the kids with the one-foot race and pairing them up she saw Harry speaking with an older gentleman and even though she knew it would be rude to interrupt she couldn’t help herself as her dirty thoughts and her needs were outweighing her good senses.

“Father, I need to ask you something if you don’t mind. It’s urgent.”

Harry squinted down at her and looked back to the man, excusing himself from their conversation. He followed her to a spot that she felt was private and looked up at him with eyes that told him what she wanted before she even said it. She knew when she rounded her eyes and made her voice breathy he had a hard time resisting her, “Father… I know you’re busy but the pavilion has a clean family bathroom with lots of space and a big bench. And I need you so bad. I’m not gonna be able to wait. Please.”

Harry looked around him and back down at his pet, “I told you to be patient.”

She shook her head, “I can’t be. I’m gonna explode. If you knew how wet I was right now… oh god…” she quietly moaned and lifted her fingers up to her neck where her pretty gold choker was, “I’m about to just go in there and take care of myself. It’ll only take five minutes. Less probably.”

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, “You’re being a brat. You know I can’t–“

“You’ve fucked me in the rectory and in the confession box at the church before. Why not here?”

Harry clenched his jaw. She was trying his patience.

“Because if anyone sees us leaving the bathroom or going in together… and I because I said.”

She pouted smoothed her hands down her dress, “Gonna go in and take care of myself then,” she turned to walk away but Harry grasped the back of her arm, stopping her from taking another step.

“Fine. Go in and lock it behind yourself. I’ll be in there in five minutes with one knock at the door. You better not touch yourself either.”

Her pout instantly lifted as she smiled, “Ooh… thank you, Father!”

Harry didn’t know why he was giving in but he knew she wasn’t going to stop and if he knew that she was in that bathroom touching herself he’d have been a mess watching the pavilion until she emerged. He’d give her what she wanted but it wouldn’t be without consequences later.

When Y/n heard one knock on the door she hopped up from the bench and slowly opened the door for her lover.

Harry stepped in, closing and locking the door behind him.

“4 minutes is all you get. You better come in less. And later, you’ll be paying for this behavior. You are not getting off scot-free.”

Clapping her hands together she turned around before lifting her dress and pulling her panties down, “Spank me and fill me. Please, Father.”

Harry rolled his eyes but the reality was he was already hard thinking about how risky they were being and seeing her bare bottom, bruised and marked from his hands and the various paddles and instruments he’d used on her, he was aching to put himself out his own misery.

He guided her to the bench with his hands at her round bottom and swiftly undid his pants, pulling his cock out and then swatted her bum with a harsh smack.

She moaned and lifted one knee up to the bench, keeping her other foot flat on the floor, and leaned over to put her hands on the wall. With the slight spread of her thighs and the way she’d lifted her leg, he could see she was indeed already completely wet for him. Just as she said.

Harry gave her another heavy-handed smack before taking his cock in his hand and pressed it through her already-slick pussy lips, “Such a nasty thing. Walking around during a church function with your panties all wet for the priest.” And without further ado, he drove himself into her sodden cunt, dipping himself in nearly to the hilt. Her cheek smushed into the wall as she quietly gasped with a smile on her face.

Giving her bottom a few more slaps he slowly began to pull back before he thrust back in, this time until his hips were firm against her bottom, and she groaned lowly, “Yes, Father. I’ve been so nasty imagining your cock drilling into me and making me whole all morning long.”

Harry began to fuck into her pussy in quick and hard thrusts, his hand landing over her plump and marked bottom repeatedly with loud smacks.

He knew he could come in under four minutes if necessary. He just wasn’t so sure she could.

“Better come fast because I’m gonna finish and leave you here without an orgasm if you don’t. Either way, your punishment tonight will not be kind, pet.” He spoke as he slowed his thrusts and tugged her hair in his hand, yanking her neck back in the process.

Her fingers found her clit at his warning and he continued his punishing plunges. He was glad it was so loud outside because the sounds coming from inside the bathroom were lewd and sinful. Skin wetly smacking and hushed moans and gasps, Harry’s occasional grunt.

Harry’s thighs began to tremble as he pumped himself in and out quickly. He adjusted his cadence to slow down so he could really feel her pussy gripping every inch of him tightly and coating the length of his cock. He felt his balls tighten up against his body and Y/n could hear the moan falling from his chest, getting louder. She knew her priest was about to come.

“Give me your come, Father. Fuck it all into my pussy. Want all your creamy come inside of me,” she moaned her words as her fingers slid quickly over her clit and she felt the tingle of her orgasm approach.

“Fuck, pet! Fuck…” Harry panted as his cock throbbed and he watched the spectacle of his cock disappearing into his pet’s little wet pussy over and over again. He kept his hand in her hair, gripping hard as he had her face pushed into the wall.

When her stance stiffened and he felt her squeezing and pulsing around him he knew she was coming. Her mouth was dropped open, not a sound coming out, as he poured into her, rocking his hips into hers and then pressing in so his balls were tucked against her. He let go of her hair and held her bottom, draining himself into her and gasping as he did so.

When he’d recovered he issued her two more swats to each cheek and carefully pulled himself out so he didn’t drip his come or her arousal onto his pants.

She kept herself leaning against the wall as she caught her breath, ass still on display.

Harry watched his come leak from her and drip down her thighs. He leaned over her back and spoke darkly into her ear, “Clean yourself up and get back out there to help. You are not getting off easy with this behavior.” Another harsh swat to her bottom and he left her there in the family bathroom against the wall on the bench.

She smiled. She always got her way. And getting her way also included a severe punishment for being naughty. Exactly what she wanted. She had her priest wrapped around her finger.

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[achelouise]

Lies, mysteries, and tricks

Fandom: Honkai Starail

Pairing: Sunday/Gen!reader, MENTIONED Gallagher/reader

Warnings: Spoilers for 2.1 and written before 2.2! Very toxic, from both sides, I think? Maybe OOC Sunday.

Summary: You learn about Robin's death, and rush to console Sunday. He isn't the thing you should be worrying about, though.

A/N: It's been a while! Came back to write this, because I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. It's rushed, and it's not really well-written, and it's short. Please forgive me~ (I am obsessed with Gallagher rn, so if anyone has any ideas I would love to hear and write about them :D (I still don't know how to properly use tumblr btw))

“Sunday? Are you in there?”

No answer. You drum your fingers against your sides nervously.

“Sunday, can we talk? Please?”

Still no answer. Your heart beats widely in your chest.

You ignore your thunderous heart as you slowly push the doors of the mansion open. The creaking doors echo and bounce along the empty halls, revealing a giant room, devoid of any light. A luxurious bed, dorned with lights and gems and painted with beautiful colors, is tucked away at the very side of the room. Sunday’s bedroom.

The factions had established that, other than the man himself, Sunday’s blood-related family, along with his spouse, would have access to it. Sunday himself had no permission to grant access to anyone, so you are surprised when the bellhop simply glanced at you and let you in without protest.

You could only guess it was because you two were close friends, and they were used to seeing you enter the Pavilion as children. Still, to enter his bedroom must be a breach in security…

But he wasn’t in any other room you could find. Time was slipping, lives were being lost, and you needed to find him. Fast.

You’re not exactly in the know. Most things you know, only Gallagher has told you. But you know full well that Sunday needs support.

“Sunday, please. I know I haven’t visited in… a while. I know what happened, and I’m sorry. Let’s work this out together. Don’t run away. Please?”

Only your echoes answer.

You were rambling to yourself at this point, desperation climbing further and further up to your chest. You have seen what Sunday does when he loses those he loves- and you want to help him. You don’t ever want to see him like that again. Never again.

You glance at the papers scattered on his desk. Maybe they have some information on where he went. He likes to rant in diaries.

You close your eyes, and pray to whatever Aeon you follow.

Forgive my sins for ever trespassing privacy to this extent. 

You don’t exactly have a clear mind when you start to rummage through the papers that endured wear and tear. You start to read some.

How could she do this?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Itsfineitsfineitsfineitsfineitsfine

Robin. Dear Aeons, Robin. 

When I find the traitor I will make them pay in blo o d 

Please don’t leave me please

Please please please please pleasepleas  e 

Your stomach drops. Poor Sunday.

Something else catches your eye, though. A soft reflection of a photo, pinned at the corner of the widespread desk. You lean over to take a good look at it.

You bite your lip so hard it nearly breaks skin. But even that dulls in comparison to the piles and piles of photos- all of them just you and Gallagher.

There are a wide range of those photos; from you two sitting across each other in the Dreamjolt Hostelry, to your hands linked together, faces flushed and smiles bright. All of them, with Gallagher’s face crossed out with glaring, red circles.

How dare he HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE

HE DID IT  HE KILLED HER   HE TOOK THEM   I WILL MAKE HIM PAY

The words are jagged and rough, as if he had barely managed to carve it out with his bare hands. It is a gigantic contrast to the sweet and elegant cursives he writes in his letters to you. It almost made you believe it wasn’t even Sunday who wrote this.

But you’re not stupid. You swallow the bile down your throat as your stomach churns with heightened fear and uncertainty. Sunday is a clever man, which makes him infinitely more dangerous.

Admittedly, he is far more unhinged than the public understands. You’ve never had a problem with it- only crazy can recognize crazy, and that was probably how he uncovered the plan of that gambler.

This doesn’t work in your favor, though. You don’t want to know what it means when he directs this insanity towards you.

You turn to leave.

“Ah, you found me.”

A hand shoots out to grip your arm, and you have no time to react. Shock, as quick as it comes, is slow to settle down. You try to scream.

“Oh Triple-Faced Soul, please seal this traitor's tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that the traitor will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”

No.

Your whole body goes cold. You feel it- the soft waves of Harmony pulsing in your head, trapping your tongue and seeing through your eyes. You had seen its effect- seen how it slaughters and breaks those who disobey. But to receive this kind of treatment yourself…

You finally process the dangerous situation you’re in, and wrench free from his grasp. You regain your stance as you stumble backwards, a question on the tip of your tongue. “Why?”

Sunday looks… off. His clothes are askew, his eyebags more apparent without the illusion of Harmony, and a smile, out of place and out of his mind. He chuckles, far too gentle, so much so that it sends shivers down your spine.

“You know how this goes, don’t you?” he coos, berating and condescending. “Answer my questions truthfully, or suffer the rejection of the Harmony.”

“Why would I ever lie to you?” you ask, “What is there even to ask?”

His eye twitches. His voice drops an octave, laced with poison and jealousy. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

He breathes in, regaining his footing as the questions begin. “Are you interested in Gallagher? Is he interested in you?”

You think of him. A few hours ago, he insisted he came along to find Sunday with you. You’re starting to regret that decision. “Yes- and, I… I think so.”

Sunday tsks. “Do you know what he is? What it is?”

You cross your arms. “No. He is not human, but I am not exactly a young damsel in distress myself.”

“Do you not understand? That that man is nothing but a memetic entity, with thousands of truths woven together as a lie? Do you not know that the man you hold hands with killed Robin in cold blood? Why would you want to be with a foul beast like him?”

You are taken aback at the venom in Sunday’s tone. He isn’t even hiding it anymore. His breathing is ragged, and his eyes are blown wide.

“I… didn’t.” you admit, far too overwhelmed by his genuine frustration to confirm the validity in his claims.

Sunday suddenly withdrawals, as if sensing he has taken you off guard. He draws himself to his full height, casting a shadow with the light outside in the halls. The pulses in your head die out, as if they were never there.

“You are being tricked, dearest. He is not the man you think he is. He is a monster, a murderer, that serves under a shameful stain. Join me, in the pursuit of the Watchmaker. We can make all of them pay in blood.”

He rants, and you feel your heart sink. He is unstable because of this recent loss, but he has clearly not lost his mind. There is still rhyme and reason to what he does.

“My past? Hah, let’s not get into that just yet. I’ll tell you- someday.”

You glance down at the hand he offers you. His gaze is tender, but far too fragile. His lips are quivering, a silent plea.

You want to reject him. You want to scream at him, punch him, and run away, as far as possible. Gallagher had promised he would explain himself one day, and you had not mentally prepared yourself to know.

But given the unstable state he was in, it is unwise to simply respond with violence.

You reach out for his hand- only for a blade, dark and violet laced with gold, piercing from his stomach. Blue liquid pours from his gut, and this time, you truly do scream.

You don’t hear anything. The withdrawal of the blade is defeated by the look of despair and shock in Sunday’s eyes. He reaches for your hand, in a blind desperation- only to dissipate at the softest graze into a sea of bubbles.

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. A silent dread washes over you, and you hear your breaths grow shorter.

A lighter goes out.

Strong, warm arms envelop you. 

A voice, low and gruff, tells you that it’s going to be okay. The voice hovers over your ear, gentle and sweet, almost fabricated to ghost over your ear in a way you can’t refuse. You don’t respond, though, as you feel a sharp cut to your neck, and you’re out like a light.

[nebuliias]

— tears of an angel..

cw: fem! reader x sunday, hurt/comfort, bits of reverse comfort, mentions of injuries, reader loses an eye (graphic ig? putting warning just in case), kinda based off robin’s incident on that war planet

a/n’s note: WHEW i haven’t wrote stuff in so long so this might be a bit ass but mannn, i love sunday sm. he’s so tragic and loving i feel there’s not enough fluff or hurt/comfort fics bout him :(

it felt like an eternity since sunday has last seen you.

being one of the highest-ranked members of the bloodhound family, you were dispatched on a mission to the outskirts of the primeval dreamscape to eradicate the memory zone memes plaguing the area.

due to the fact that the notice had come at such a rushed time, you only managed to kiss the oak family on the cheek goodbye before leaving with your signature shoes and bag filled with belongings. “be a gentleman, and wait patiently for me, alright?” you had teasingly asked before leaving the dewlight pavilion’s premises with a smile.

and as sunday worked away the hours answering letters, signing away paperwork, or reading literature, he found himself missing the laughter of your voice and the gleam of your oh, so beautiful eyes.

after all, it had a week since he hadn’t seen or heard from you, which was rather odd since you would occasionally send text messages or calls his way to answer. the more you never talked back, the more anxious sunday got.

he tried not to. you were capable enough to defend yourself and would send alerts if you were in extreme danger, right? it was until a letter was delivered straight to his office that addressed him lovingly; to my darling sunday.

a smile formed on sunday’s face, relieved that it was written by you. his amber eyes read over the contents after he carefully removed the wax and uncovered the paper.

“dear sunday,”

“my dearest, i hope this message finds you in good health. i must admit, my current situation is far from ideal. our mission was met with unexpected danger, and while I managed to evacuate the bloodhounds that accompanied me to safety, i ended up suffering severe injuries in the process… including the loss of my left eye. i’m currently recovering in a field hospital, but my thoughts constantly turn to you.”

“despite my current predicament, i want you to know that my love for you remains unchanged. each day apart from you feels like a lifetime, and i yearn for the day when i can hold you in my arms again. i hope and pray to xipe that my recovery is swift, so that we can once again bask in the warmth of each other's presence. until then, please take care of yourself and know that my heart yearns for you always.”

“with all my love and longing, y/n”

sunday’s hands trembled as he read the words over and over again. how could this have happened? he had known that the mission was dangerous, but never would’ve imagined that it could have gone so horribly wrong. he could almost hear your voice in his head, reassuring him that everything was okay, but he knew in his heart that you were in pain. he needed to see you, to hold you in his arms and comfort you.

without hesitation, sunday bolted upwards from his chair, almost falling over in the process, but he could care less. his amber eyes started to burn with unshed tears when he imagined your injured and vulnerable form, dependent only on the medical staff for support.

he paid no attention to the perplexed gazes of the officials roaming around dewlight pavilion and made a beeline for outside and towards the location where you last mentioned you would be at before you left.

his mind became an overwhelming whirlwind of horrid thoughts. “i ended up suffering severe injuries in the process… including the loss of my left eye.“ that’s what you had claimed, but what if you were actually resting on your deathbed, saying that just to ease his worries? what if you were going through worse, to the point where you could potentially die-

no. he couldn’t surmise like this. you wouldn’t lie to him about your condition, especially if you knew you were at death’s door. if you said you were alright, then you were alright.. at least, that’s what sunday hoped.

when he reached the safe area of the chaotic dreamscape, he approached the nearest medic — a rushing nurse — his voice quivered with anxiety while asking for you. "pardon me, miss, i’m looking for madam y/n?” he addressed you formally. “she was sent here by the bloodhound family for a mission a week ago… could you please guide me to her tent? it’s.. an emergency.”

”…broken ribs… unrecoverable eye… might need to replace with artificial one… torn muscles… minor concussions…”

throbbing agony coursed over the veins of your broken body, your missing eye hidden underneath an eye bandage. uneven breaths escaped your mouth while the sound of monitors beeped at your left. many bandages were wrapped all around your aching body, some especially tight at your ribs to secure their healing.

your eyelids flickered weakly while struggling to lift themselves up after a good night’s sleep. despite the tent’s warm ambience, the light assaulted your sight, making you wince in discomfort. slowly but surely, your blurry vision focused in on sunday’s figure sitting by your bedside. his soft eyes were filled with concern and tears as he leaned forward, carefully brushing away strands of hair from your sweaty face while holding your scarred hand with the other.

“my love, you’re awake..!” he whispered softly, delivering a tender kiss to your knuckles. the sound of his voice.. you ultimately got to hear it once more. a tired smile formed on your face as you carefully elevated your head.

“hiya, sunday,” you greeted with a chuckle, returning the firm grasp on his gloved hand. you could see how his halovian wings eagerly perked at the mention of his name. “i’m so sorry, dear. i didn’t mean to get so injured, but the situation got too much and-“

a slender finger shushed your lips, refraining you from continuing on. sunday only smiled and shook his head. “it’s alright, it’s alright, really.. you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. but i should’ve been there to at least be by your side.” he put a hand at your cheek, soothingly stroking your cheek with his thumbs and began to quietly sob.

you placed your shaky hand on his face, wiping away his tears with your fingers. “don’t cry, please, darling. shhh.. it’s okay, i’m here.” sunday held your hand in his gentle yet firm grip, planting kisses all over the surface of your hand.

“my apologies, my love,” he responded tremulously. “i’m just so relieved that you’re not gone.” you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh at that. poor sunday, the amount of stress you must’ve caused him during your absence.

sunday smiled, even with evanescent streams being carved on his smooth face. “rest, y/n. i won’t be leaving your side at all.”

he kissed your forehead before gingerly placing his head on your stomach, delicately as to not put too much pressure on any internal wounds that he might not be aware of. you stroked the fluffy locks of his blue-gray hair and shifted your position slightly.

when he shut his eyelids, sunday mumbled quietly with adoration in his voice. “i love you, and i promise that i’ll never let anything like this happen to you again. we’ll get through this together, my darling.”

you leaned your head back on the pillows and beamed, feeling as if your injuries were already healing just by the hum of his sweet voice. before going back to sleep, you kissed the tips of your pointer and middle finger and pressed them on his forehead playfully.

as long as he was by your side, you wouldn’t have to worry about disharmony plaguing your sweet dreams evermore.

[nothingbynova]

halloween with luke castellan

summary: planning a halloween party with your boyfriend luke castellan at camp half-blood :p 

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader, reader's cabin not specified. 

word count: 2.1k

warning(s) : summerween vibes, lots of fluff, probably too much plot, kissing in the dark, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, borderline smut but not really, and use of y/n 

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note: let me know if you're interested in a part two! it would be covering more of the party itself, moments with luke and also a few other mixed characters.

dedications: my bestfriend @dalgonacafe !

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 

you and luke have been together for over 2 years now. the entire camp loves you guys together, for multiple reasons. one of these being your incredible ability to throw halloween parties, and you always have the best couples costumes there. 

“okay how about bonnie and clyde?” you roll over on the bed and glance in luke’s direction. he’s currently laying on the hermes cabin floor, keeping his focus on the paper in front of him. 

“too basic, anything else?” he replies. 

this is at least the 30th option you’ve given him, and his responses are all “no” “that's bad” “(blank) did that last year” and so forth. you accept defeat and throw yourself into the pillows, letting out a heavy sigh. luke notices this and stands up, walking over to your spot on his bed. 

“we still have a couple days before we need the costumes, its okay y/n” he kisses the side of your head before laying down next to you. the both of you sat in silence for a few moments before a lightbulb went off in your head. “CHUCKY AND TIFFANY” you shout at him excitedly. this is the first idea that he doesn't immediately shut down. you can visibly see the wheels turning in his head before he replies. “yes, you’re a genius, my love!” he wraps his arms around you and pulls you on top of himself. he places playful kisses all over your face while you laugh and try to push him away. “okay okay, we still need to plan luke!!” you peel yourself off his chest and begin thinking about how the costumes will look. although luke isn't much help with the planning, he does get his half brothers, the stoll twins to sneak in some items you needed. after a week of playing with fabrics, costume paint and fake blood, they are finally ready. all you have to do is make sure they fit now.

*time skip brought to you by: clarisse la rue’s curl routine*

you’re walking around camp with a small backpack, all of luke’s costume aspects are hidden inside. you stumble across the dining pavilion, only for him to not be there. you check the 12 cabins, the medical building, and even the vineyards. luke is nowhere to be seen, and the clock is ticking. 

“annabeth! annabeth chase!” you sprint toward the poseidon cabin doors, catching her right before it closes. “hi y/n! can i help you?” a light blush is spread across her cheeks, knowing you caught her going to visit percy. they’ve been dating for a few weeks, but refuse to tell everyone. it’s still obvious, and almost every camper knows, even chiron. 

“have you seen my boyfriend? i’ve lost him again and we have to finish these costumes for the party tomorrow night” you sigh and rub your forehead, obviously stressed.

“uhhhm, yes actually. i think clarisse was using him as a training dummy for the new kids. they should be up in the fields!” she smiles sheepishly. you thank her for her efforts and walk off, heading toward the training grounds. 

annabeth is right, per usual, as you approach the hill, you can see a horde of children gathered in small circles learning how to wield multiple weapons. luke is in the center of one of them, twisting and turning his sword. 

his brown curls are sticking to his forehead, his face is red and tired looking. seeing as it's already mid day, they’ve probably been working out here all morning. his clothes are damp and stick to his body, making his abs visible through his shirt. even a completely sweaty mess, he still looks incredibly  good and it makes your heart flutter.

he turns around at perfect timing, almost as if he can feel you approaching. he smiles your way before dismissing the kids for a break. you happily walk your way to where he stands.

“hello handsome, how’s training?” you wrap your arms around his waist and beam up at him. he reciprocates the action by looping his hands into the back pockets of your pants.  

“hi y/n'' he smiles before leaning down to kiss you, his lips are warm and welcoming. it’s a small moment that’s cut short by a group of nearby kids giggling in awe. you pull away from him and tuck your head into his chest in embarrassment.

“how much longer are you needed?” you pull away and glance up at him “we have a halloween party to throw tomorrow!” you add on, smirking and wiggling your eyebrows excitedly. 

“can i shower before you steal me away..?” he sighs and smells himself before fake gagging. you laugh at his actions before nodding your head yes.

you begin to walk away down the hill and back into camp, looking back at him and shouting “YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES CASTELLAN! FIND ME IN 30 MINUTES, GOT IT?” before giving a funny thumbs up and storming off.

*time skip brought to you by: walker scobell’s ginger allegations*

“lucas castellan, i swear if you keep moving i’ll give up right now and you're going to have to figure out this costume on your own!” his small movements are making it nearly impossible to check the sizing and fit for everything needed. although there's not enough time to fix any of the sizing anyway, as long as it's not too small everything should be fine!

“pleaseeee y/n, i'm bored, how much longer do i need to stand here??" he pouts, and kicks, and whines like a little child. 

“as long as i say so” you snap the behind of his shirt and then walk back to stand in front of him. smiling innocently at the move you just pulled. luke gives you an upset look but his stare quickly fades back to normal.

“we’re all done now, thank you!” the smile on your face beams happily. luke, thankful to finally be free, picks you up bridal style. 

“did you speak to clarisse about the forest being cleared? i know they’ve been working on it for a few days now.” he questions, carrying you over to a small corner of the cabin where your bed stands. 

“yeah everything is ready, i'm waiting on the twins to find that alcohol dealing cyclops.” you sigh, bringing your hands to cover your face stressfully, as he gently places the two of you on the bed. within seconds you find yourself wrapped up with luke, hands around waists, legs intertwined, and your head tucked into his chest. 

*time skip brought to you by: grovers cgi hoofed feet*

you carry the last of the drink coolers toward the main table, and set them by the others. some of the camp kids have been helping you set up the forest for the party tonight. there's bushes and trees that perfectly block off where camp adults could possibly see what's happening. the beach shoreline is sprinkled with log chairs, a couple snack tables and a lit campfire in the center. nightfall is setting and people will finally be arriving soon

“so clarisse, are you coming with chris?” you turn in her direction and smirk when she meets your eyes. chris rodriguez is a son of hermes, so he’s technically luke’s half brother. he’s also clarisse’s crush, but she won't make a move on him. 

“oh shut up, you know he doesn't even like me y/n” she glances at you and gives a mean looking face. all you can do is laugh before replying back “well that’s not what luke told me last week!” you smile cheerfully and hold up a bag of plastic cups toward her. “you are making a move tonight or else i will tell him myself!” clarisse just sighs before nodding her head, silently agreeing. 

a few campers start to trickle in, wearing a mixture of homemade and store bought costumes. some of the girls have turned their everyday makeup into scary face paint and fake blood. the twins must have worked overtime smuggling in so many wanted items for the party. annabeth walks in alongside percy, and they’re matching together, prince eric and ariel. it's cute and also funny, ariel is a daughter of poseidon in the mortal made movies, but not in a demi-god way. 

“hey i'm gonna run down and fix up the beach tables, can you help me host til i get back?” you smile towards clarisse as she nods her yes. you walk back towards the shoreline, passing the young lovers on your way.

“this, this is amazing!” you bow in awe, annabeth blushing slightly and percy laughs. “i was forced into it, but thank you” he beams happily at you before looking down to beth.

“where’s your boyfriend?” she looks at you, and then around the party, confused. 

“uhhhhm great question, running late i assume? i’m gonna go fix up the rest of the tables but feel free to grab some drinks and hang out!” you shoot a reassuring smile toward the two before walking off. 

suddenly someone wraps their arms around your waist and rips you into the air, spinning you around. you scream loud enough for a couple nearby kids to glance your way concerned. 

“HELLO?? GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!!” you screech and try to wiggle out of their grasp. by the hands gripping onto you, it's obvious this isn't a girl. unless it was clarisse…but you know she wouldn't dare touch someone unless she really had to. “PUT ME DOWN!! WHAT ARE YOU, CRAZY??” you kick your feet and flail your arms. the boy chuckles and places you back down in front of him, you look up and sigh. “really luke??? you scared the shit out of me!” you push his shoulder and scoff, rolling your eyes and turning to walk away. he laughs to himself and reaches out grabbing your wrist, he spins you back toward his body and into his arms. “i'm sorry, it was funny!” he said in between laughing. “i didn't even know you could scream that high! it was amazing baby!” he tries to make you feel better, but all you can do is stare at him. 

his hair is normally brown and curly, laying messy over his forehead. but now its carefully slicked back, like an 80’s greaser boy. theres orange hair spray covering the top as well, completing the appeal. the scar he once got from a past quest is highlighted by the fake blood around it. one of the camp girls must have helped him do his additional makeup, because it looks amazing. he’s suited into the costume you helped make him as well, wearing a colorful striped shirt and overalls on top. somehow everything fits just right, he looks good and he knows it too. a sly smirk sits on his face when he notices how your eyes are practically jumping out of your head. 

“earth to y/n, you okay down there?” he shakes your shoulders carefully, a small attempt to grab your attention again. 

“what? yeah! yes, i'm great! sorry you just scared me is all.” you nervously spit back at him. “i have to finish moving some stuff around for the tables down by the beach. come find me later?” you smile up at him with such love behind your eyes

“oh yes ma'am, yes of course.” he nods quickly before leaning down to kiss you. one turns to two, then three and maybe even four before his arm drops down to your waist. he’s dangerously pulling you closer to him, grabbing onto any parts of you that he can. you allow it to happen as well, dipping your head lower and giving him access to deepen the kiss. your hands find their way to the back of his neck, playing with parts of his hair. the way he kisses you is out of pure hunger, and his movements easily become sloppy with lust the longer that the two of you are together. 

you gently pull back, the both of you are breathing heavily and lips glossy. 

“okay! okay!” you giggle in between a couple more of luke’s desperate small kisses. he finally pulls back and looks at you fully, eyeing you up and down a few times before replying 

“i like the costume, by the way. if you couldn't tell” he smirks down at you before kissing your cheek and turning to walk away. “i’ll come find you later, pretty girl!” you blush and shake your head yes as you watch luke disappear off into the opposite part of the forest.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[cowyolks]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter One. Midsummers Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: This series is heavily influenced by Hades and Persephone, while I will not exactly state if this is Greek Mythology, I want to add lots of folklore and myths into this series! So let me know if you like it so far!

“Daughter!” The chilling voice of your mother startled you from your book, the passage had managed to suck you in and away from your current reality. Oh how you wished you could stay there.

It was Midsummer, a time of the year that you truly despised.

It met you had to be under the watching eye of your mother, who searched far and low for a suitor for you.

She was the chieftess of your clan, something she made sure to remind you of every waking hour. To put it simply, you were a trainee, a soldier, in her quest of power.

You were not her daughter, but a pawn.

“I’m coming, Mother.” You announced as you carefully put the bookmark down against the paper, hoping you’d return to the pages sooner rather than later.

You left your room reluctantly, taking a glance at the setting sun outside of the window. It was nearly nightfall already, which meant it was time to leave.

“Oh Gods, look at you! Did you fall asleep?” Your mother bounced around you, yanking the uncomfortable corset tighter around your waist and pulling your hair away from your ears to make you look more sophisticated and older.

“I was just reading.” You mumbled, hands gripping the flowing train of your dress, specifically tailored for the Midsummer feast. The color was a crimson red, fading into a soft blush as it reached your ankles– it was the color of your clan.

“You should have been cleaning up, I’ve got three potential suitors coming to visit tonight. You need to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes ma’am.” You sighed, eyes watering at the thought of losing your freedom to a man twice your age. Clans around you didn’t have suitors your age, so it was likely you were to be married off to a man full grown, who would force you to have heirs. It was enough to make you shudder.

A loud caw shook you from your thoughts. Your eyes travelled to the window, where a large crow sat perched upon the sill, it’s beady eyes glancing at you as it always had. It was common to find the bird near you. Something your mother detested, which made it much more interestingto have the crow return to you. You’d read that offering the bird trinkets or food was a way to build trust. So in the springtime at dusk you’d set coins and seeds out for the crow.

It would return with its own gifts, so much more extravagant than the ones you’d given. Golden brooches, silver earrings, and necklaces of stunning ruby; one that you wore on your neck now.

“Shoo!” Your mother cried, as she attempted to smack the bird out of the sill and into the night, and reluctantly the bird left, not without bringing its beady eyes to you first. With a flap, it flew into the night.

“Damn that bird, it’s a wonder people don’t think of you as a witch.”

Sometimes you wished you were one.

It was later in the evening when you saw the bird again. He didn’t make a loud caw as he usually did, instead he perched on the rafters of the pavilion, beady eyes flashing against the gold goblets and lanterns being paraded around.

“Madam-”

You jumped, not noticing the looming presence behind you until he spoke. You wheeled around with a hand upon your chest, startled.

“I did not mean to startle you…” he started.

“No sir, it’s quite alright. It seems I was only lost in my mind.” You brushed off, instead searching over his features. He was old, at least older than you, with a clean shaven face and head, and violent eyes that swirled in the light. It seemed to come as a great effort to keep his rage at bay.

“Hershel Shepherd.” He introduced, holding a large hand out to you. Hesitantly you placed your palm in his hand, his grip tight and uncomfortable. You bit back a wince, faintly hearing the crow caw indifferently.

You turned to the bird slightly, instead catching your mother’s stern stare, she vaguely made a gesture to the man that had spoke to you.

A suitor.

He was so old.

With a gulp, you turned back to the man known as Shepherd, plastering a fake smile upon your lips. With careful words you introduced yourself, watching as his eyes fired again at the greeting. Was that flames?

“Care to dance?”

As if your mother would allow you to say no.

You looped your hand in his, settling the other gracefully on his shoulder, just as you were taught.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t swooped to marry you yet.” His tone made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. There was something off about this man, and it made your throat tighten in wary.

“All the suitors say I’m too strong-minded.”

“An easy fix. You just need some discipline.”

You stopped dancing, feeling how tight his grip was upon your waist and hand. It hurt, but you didn’t want to let him know that.

“Excuse me?” You asked incredulously, now actually seeing the flames burn in his irises.

“I think you’ve heard perfectly clear, little bird. I plan to propose to you this fortnight. I already have your mother’s blessing.”

The crow cawed loudly.

You felt like puking.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You squeaked, hating how shaky your legs felt as you forcibly ripped his hands from your body. Your heels clicked upon the marble, your dress whisking in the nightly summer breeze. Dodging through people, you made your way to the opposite side of the pavilion, trying to calm your nerves as much as you could.

“What the hell was that?” The irritated voice of your mother made you shrink down in stance, even though you were several inches taller.

“He disrespected me, I wasn’t going to stand by and let him insult me.” Your voice was uncharacteristically small– you blamed it on Shepherd.

“You will let him do as he pleases.” She snapped through gritted teeth. Your mouth opened slightly in shock, never before had she been so bluntly angered. It made frustrated tears well into your eyes.

“I won’t marry him.”

“That’s not your decision. It’s the clan’s, and they’ve already concluded their vote. You’re to be married at dawn. Betrothed.”

“No…” you whimpered, now wishing more than anything that you could run far away. Possibly sailing the seas by your lonesome, or climbing trees in the jungles, or hiking mountains larger than the skyline.

“Yes. Now go catch some air, gather yourself and come back a woman. Not some whimpering child.” With a small shove, she pushed you out of the pavilion and into the dark night.

With a cloudy brain, you began to walk down the stone path to the gardens, far from any lingering people. Here, the only sound was the croaking of frogs, scent of flowers, and singing of crickets.

As if a string was cut, your eyes began to water, tears falling freely down your cheeks in hot trails. Hastily, you wiped the droplets, approaching the briar of winter roses. The petals bloomed full year, having the resilience you only yearned of having.

Your fingertips brushed over the soft petals, hardly taking note to the small fluttering of wings upon the top of the briar, until the bird cooed as it fluttered down to your eye-line.

“At least I’ll have you, huh?”

You felt ridiculous talking to a crow, but the bird was the only one that did not shun you. It gave you time to be yourself, without protesting and interference.

With a hesitant hand, you reached for the bird, gently enough for it to know you didn’t mean any harm. When it made no move to fly away you brushed a hand to its feathers, watching with amusement as it cawed softly, before playfully nipping your finger.

“I wish I could fly away with you.” You whispered into the night air. Not noticing the man hidden in the shadows, watching on with a curious spark in his eye.

Finally. You were here.

“Then why don’t you.” His deep voice cut through the balmy night.

Chapter Two

[sylacris]

— chrysanthemums.

elbert greetia x gn! reader

content: sfw ; angst ; character study ; mild(?) spoilers for william’s route ; victorian flower language ; self indulgent (screw plot)

(partially) inspired by: tonight you belong to me by patience and prudence

word count: ~754

a/n: first ikevil fic, trying to wrap my head around the characters …

Of course Elbert knows you belong to Will.

After all, you were the most beautiful when you're with him. He's seen the image many times throughout your stay in the castle. The way you light up when William enters the room, the lift in your voice when speaking to him, the love in your eyes when William is reflected on it.

The way that William is the reason for your beauty.

If the gods pried into his brain and search for the question he's asked the most—the question thought to himself in fitful nights of longing and early morning blues, something that even Elbert feels guilty of admitting through words— it would be:

Why?

Why you? Why William? Why not him-

That was the thing he has been trying to find the answer for ever since his own eyes landed on you that night. A robin caught in a gathering of villains, like a single white rose in a bush of red. He had almost wanted to pluck you and keep you to himself. Until William’s voice chimed in, recognizing you, and you, who shared the same sentiment.

A month passed by in a blur, it was easy for Elbert to get lost in time. But he would always remember the determination in your eyes in that meeting regarding the papers detailing the “crimes” of William Rex. Your eyes shone with a beauty brought out by the King himself.

You'd almost caught him marvelling at the sight of you.

He wanted to help, one way or another. However, the Crown could not move under the name of the Queen, or in large groups due to the risks in secrecy, so he asked Alfons to act in his stead.

“Your ability is suitable for infiltrating the enemy headquarters… May I trouble you to go with them?”

In the end, he's aware of why it was William you chose. It was a fact that he knew deep down in his heart, something he'd rarely acknowledge and yet will resurface everytime his mind wanders to the thought of you.

William Rex is everything that Elbert Greetia isn't.

And in that very fact alone lies Elbert’s own tragedy. One that'll slowly eat him up from the inside until there's nothing left but the remains of a monomanic yearning.

Not every beautiful thing could be his, Alfons would poke in the playful manner that he usually dons. But perhaps his words do hold weight in this situation.

It's alright, he can settle for watching from afar.

(No he can't. His curse could never allow it. He wants, he wants, he wants... And that was how his destiny wrote itself in tragedy.)

Elbert knows of the fact that he's awful at suppressing his tendencies. Hands that can't be kept to himself, always wandering to something he'd desire, it was usually a question of when he'll have it- rarely a question of if, up until now at least.

Those same hands that desired more, now held yours in a slow waltz.

"Al informed me that William went out on a mission... I was… quite surprised to find out that you did not come along with him."

"It's because it's quite late, and William insisted that I stay behind tonight."

step, step, step.

A dance across the garden, that was his invitation. Indulging in the opportunity that arose in William's absence. It was Elbert’s own way of satiating his want.

(though it will never be enough)

Some part of him feared that by interacting with you like this, he'd yet again desire for more. More than a longing stare across the dining table, more than a dance in the garden, more than just his hand in yours.

“How about you, Lord Elbert? You seem troubled these days.”

“...Ah, how so?”

And just as both of you reached the middle of the pavilion, you let go. The coldness setting on his hands faster than he'd like in the absence of your warmth.

And in the next breath, you'd take your leave- greeting the wistful earl a goodnight. Heels clicking as you step out of the pavilion and into the moonlight, until you were nothing but a distant figure, one he did not take his eyes off until you'd reach the confines of the castle, your silhouette disappearing from his sight

And once again, he stood alone in the garden pavilion.

The yellow chrysanthemums looked bitter under the moonlight, and he knows that those same flowers would never bloom in an azure hue.

© sylacris. 2024 —

[seilucard]

being a child of the muses

okay okay but hear me out: a pjo-sona that is absolutely useless at everything BUT story-telling and writing

the cabins for each muse are found underneath a large and beautiful pavilion with a stage in the middle. oftentimes, you will find children of the 9 muses taking turns going up on stage and reciting poetry, strumming their lyres, and what have you. on some days, the stage is taken down and replaced with an amateur art gallery or a make-shift observatory for the children of urania. art is the beating heart of these cabins, and the campers are its lifeblood - the vessels that bring the place to life. literally.

the cabins started out as plain. it was the songs and dance of the campers that made the place start blooming with nature, fae, and fauna.

in the cabin of calliope, there lives a single resident - the oldest half-blood among all the 9 cabins. the cabin itself is filled from top to bottom with books, many of which were donations from other campers, or from their own personal collection. it was the closest thing the camp had to a library, really, and plenty of children of the other 8 muses frequented this place when they hit a creative block.

there, they could speak with the cabin's counselor, whose nose could always be reliably found in a book. if they weren't reading a book, then they would be knee-deep in parchment paper, scribbling down ideas as they came.

they were not known for their voice, nor their grace. in fact, their cousins liked to joke that their singing sounded shrill like an owl's. but the counselor didn't mind, and took the teasing in stride. after all, what they lacked in music, they all the more made up for in the art of writing.

they like to write children's books in their free time. just short, and simple ones, long enough to be able to lull young campers to sleep on especially difficult nights. whereas writing used to be an absolutely useless skill in the camp when our character first arrived, they have found themselves filling up a valuable niche in the community.

they tell stories to the young ones, and give advice to those who seek out their destinies. being well-read has made them insightful and wise, and they are often called upon when prophecies are given to help decipher their meanings.

just. an absolutely nerdy bookworm in the middle of all these buff half-bloods getting ready for the next big battle. not having to force themselves into being the warrior they're not. being intrinsically different from everyone but still finding a way to fit in and be loved by their huge dysfunctional family.

[marvelettesassemblenow]

Under my Umbrella

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female Reader  

Summary: On your vacation in Edinburgh you spot a lonely man sitting in the rain on a bench. You decide to give him a hot beverage 

Word Count:  ~1.8k

Warnings: none I think 

A/N: This takes place before Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen as did certain things in IW because who knows me, knows I only write fluff. So Steve stays and gets his happy ending. 

The sun had just been shining, but now the first drops of rain were landing on the fabric of your jacket. You struggled with the mechanism of your umbrella before you finally managed to open it and even more droplets had found their way onto your skin in the meantime.  

When you were more secured under the protecting fabric, you continued walking towards the pavilion that was selling hot beverages. While you were waiting in line you spotted a man sitting on a bench. He was staring at the castle (as most of the people in Edinburgh were) and didn’t seem bothered by the changed weather. His baseball cap protected his face from the rain, but that was about it. He wasn’t even dressed like most of the tourists with rain jackets and walking boots. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s been here for a few days now. He’s harmless,” the vendor ripped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was your turn to order. You ordered two hot beverages and struggled to hold the hot containers and the umbrella at the same time. You managed to arrive at the bench the man sat at with only one shoulder slightly more wet. 

“Um hi, I thought you might want something to drink to warm you up. I’ve got tea or hot chocolate if you want.” Blue eyes started into yours and you almost let the paper cups slip. Wet pieces of hair came out under the cap, his beard also had some droplets of water in it, but his blue eyes were what caught your attention. “Don’t feel pressured, I just saw you sitting here in the rain and thought you’d might like something.” 

“That was very thoughtful of you. I’d like the hot chocolate if that’s okay with you.” His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t used it in a while. 

“Of course, I offered, right?” You tried to hold out the right cup, but lost the grip on the umbrella you had with your arm. 

“Let me,” he said and when he reached out to take the umbrella and hold it over your head he was very gentle. 

“Would it be okay for me to sit here and drink my tea?” you asked and he nodded and told you to wait before you sat down. He took a t-shirt out of a backpack that you hadn’t spotted under his legs and swiped the bench dry with it. You offered to share the umbrella and the man agreed under the premise that he would hold it. 

It was quiet for a while until he said: “Do you know that over two million people visit the castle every year?” 

“Wow, that’s a lot. But I get it, I haven’t seen something like this before. And the people here are so nice!” 

This was a start of a discussion for the two of you. He provided more facts about the city and you learned that he wasn’t originally form Edinburgh too. You talked for almost an hour and the cups were empty when you had to leave. 

“Thank you for the hot chocolate and the companionship,” he said when you stood up and he got up with you – still holding the umbrella. 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the nice conversation -” you stopped and noticed that you haven’t gotten his name. 

“My name is Steve,” he provided. 

“Farewell, Steve,” you said and took your umbrella. When you looked back you saw him sitting again in the rain and you weren’t sure if he really had a small smile on his lips or if it was your imagination. 

The next day you found yourself back in princess street garden. There were a few reasons for that: 1. The castle was like a magnet, as you could see it from almost every point in town. 2. The garden was such a beautiful place! It was so green and clean, you felt relaxed walking through it. And the 3. reason was something that you had to admit was Steve. You just hoped to see him again. 

Was he living there? The vendor had said he had been there for days, but he hadn't smelled or anything. On the other hand he had a backpack with clothes in it. Maybe he was an unfortunate traveler that had been stranded here? Maybe he wasn’t even there anymore and you had come for nothing. Well not nothing as you had clearly come for the view of the castle and the tea. Maybe you’d try the hot chocolate today as Steve had seemed to enjoy it. 

And why on earth was your mind always going back to Steve? A guy you had talked to for not even an hour? And were your feet also carrying you faster when you saw the shade of a man with a baseball hat on a bench? You stopped by the pavilion again and ordered two hot chocolates this time. 

“I’m trading a hot chocolate for a fun fact about the castle,” you said and held the cup in front of Steves face. This time you were sure there was a smile on his face as you saw it clearly. 

“Above a door in the royal palace are the initials MAH engraved. They did this when Mary, queen of the Scots, gave birth to King James IV.” 

“Definitely worth a cup of hot chocolate,” you held out the cup and he took it and patted the seat next to him. This time you didn’t have an excuse to sit as closely to him as it wasn’t raining. You were in the middle of a sip when a touch on your leg startled you. You looked over to Steve who pointed a finger towards the grass where a small squirrel was, before it continued its way towards the two of you. It nibbled shortly on your shoelaces before it decided it wasn’t a snack and went back to its next target. 

“Did you see that?” you asked full of glee. 

“I did!” he confirmed. It did seem like he just noticed that his hand was still slightly touching your leg and he removed it. “You want to take a walk with me?” he asked and you agreed. 

Visiting Steve was like an unspoken rule. Just like you never asked why he was always sitting on that bench. Time with him flew and one hour turned into two. He made you laugh, he was very attentive and, on the day, when it rained again, he held the umbrella so you wouldn’t get wet while he had to duck his head. 

“This is my last day here. I should be packing, but I rather saw you for the last time.” You couldn’t believe that you told him that. But there was nothing to lose, this was the last time you saw him. 

“I think I have to stay a little longer, but at least I’ve got to know you.” You had reached the end of the park and looked at each. Steves skin was tinted red from the reflection of the umbrella and you had never seen someone more beautiful! 

“I’ll miss our daily dates,” you almost whispered. 

“I’ll miss you,” was Steves simple response. He bent forward and suddenly he pressed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first but then he put more pressure in it when you didn’t pull away. His hand was touching your face softly and his finger stroked your cheek when he put some distance between your faces. 

“Stay safe, sunshine” 

A few years later 

“I can’t believe that we took the hard way. No one else here is out of breath!” you complained when you let yourself fall on the grass and watched the people walking the paved path while you and Steve had walked the hard way to the top of Arthurs seat to enjoy the view of Edinburgh. 

“Have I told you that you look even more beautiful than the day I first saw you, sunshine?” Steve sat down so close to you, so he could put his arm behind you and you could lean against it. 

“You tell me that every day,” you laughed and put your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s the truth! When I saw you struggling holding all three items in your hand and the rain falling down your umbrella, a small slip of sun came through and illuminated you. I don’t call you sunshine for no reason.” 

“You are a charmer. I can’t believe we’ve met that way!” 

It had been two days after your farewell when you saw the news about Captain America destroying a train station in Edinburgh. It only took a few seconds of the footage until you realized that the homeless/ stranded man you had seen daily was actually Captain America who had been on the run. Months later there had been a letter in your postbox. It had been from Steve who figured out where you lived and wanted to give you the option if you wanted to see him or not. 

Of course you had wanted to see him and after a lot of dates, that didn’t include a bench in the park, you moved in together and finally decided to visit the place again where it had all begun. 

“It is a nice story. But I think we could leave out the part where you thought I was homeless,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to your side of the head. He was very affectionate since the two of you began dating and you were loving it. When the two of you met again in person, he had told you that he had been searching for Wanda. And while he had be sitting in the park, he had heard about all the stuff people said about the castle, so he could provide the facts he told you in exchange for the hot chocolate. 

“I will never leave out that part. It is one of the best parts.” it was your favorite part because it made everyone laugh. 

“My favorite part was meeting you,” he pulled you towards him until you both fell back onto the ground and kissed you. Never in your life would you have thought that you’d meet your future husband on your vacation. Not that Steve knew about your upcoming proposal. The only other person who knew was the vendor in princess street garden who would make sure that your bench wouldn’t be occupied tomorrow. But for now you would enjoy being in Steves arm. 

Masterlist | Library Blog

[hami-gua]

收下的香囊 Shōu Xià de Xiāng Náng

In ancient China, girls would give friends and love interests 香囊 （a sachet). If the love interest accepts, then he accepts to be her significant other. Proposal is a different case though, as it’ll be very costly for the man :)

Warning: Chinese is used (translation provided), not proofread, attempt on classification of things (i.e. a tree), a lot of culture drops, a few historical inaccuracies, anxiety (maybe near panic attack)

The story takes place in a Han dynasty-esque period (not really)

Dan Heng x gn! Reader (third pov)

Please read to the end for credits and explanations

A warm glow emitted through the paper window at the dead of night. There a figure sat, weaving a needle between the silk fabric. Silken thread of teal jade** wrap around the woven fabric, drawing out the form of a teal jade dragon flying between mountains and amongst clouds. When the figure was done embroidering the body, they finished off the stitch and swapped the thread out for one of pure gold. This has to be perfect.

The next day, the figure leaves their room, opting to head down to the pavilion overlooking the koi pond. Maids hurriedly followed suit, carrying whatever the figure desired. And when they made it to the pavilion at last, the figure wasted no time and sat down — beginning their work immediately. They pulled out their work, already been strung on the loom and began stitching again. A gentle pink thread weaved this time, shaping out peach blossoms. A soft breeze passes through, swaying the liusu tree** a bit a way. I don’t have much time left. The figure thought, I only have a three days before I depart for the capital. I’m sure he’ll be there.

The figure worked well into the afternoon until their friend had come along bringing snacks to feast upon. She brought something to work on too, as it was customary for the two to do so.

“你今儿怎么这么不安呢？你这个香囊不是做了很久了吗？这已经看的很完美了，为何还要再加呢?” [Why are you so restless today? Isn’t this the sachet you’ve been working on for so long? It already looks perfect, why do you still want to add more?]

“前面是完美的。但后面的必须得要跟前面一样完美。” [The front is perfect. But the back needs to be as perfect as the front.]

“这么拼命啊。是要送给谁啊？等等，让我猜猜！是不是。。。丹王子**？” [You really are giving it your all. Who are you going to gift it to? Wait, let me guess! Is it… Prince Dan (Heng)?]

The figure looked up at their friend in shock, having never told her despite working on the sachet for a while.

“三月。。。你是怎么。。。” [March… how did you…] The figure trailed off, their whole face starting to heat up.

“这不简单嘛。我上次来看你的时候，你绣的那个图案是个青龙。咱俩之间知道的青龙不是丹王子的话，那还会是谁啊？“ [It’s simple. The last time I came to see you, the pattern you embroidered was a teal dragon. If the teal dragon isn’t Prince Dan (Heng) as we know it, then who else could it be?]

The figure looked at the work in their hands and remained silent as March stared at them. A period of silence held between them until the figure spoke, “Do you think he’ll accept it?”

“I don’t see why he’ll reject it.”

The figure sighs, a thumb running over the even stitches softly.

“He’s so aloof. I don’t know if he likes me or tolerates me to not…”

“To not…?”

“To not ruin his image.”

Rustling was all the figure heard before a pair of hands enclosed around theirs. They look up to see March looking at them with a smile.

“It’s okay. You go along with what you planned, and if he breaks your heart, I’ll go beat him up. Princely title or not. No one’s allowed to hurt you.”

Reassurance began to settle in within the figure’s heart and a smile quickly followed.

“Thanks March.”

A day has since passed, the figure having finished their sachet before bed. The brass wind chime sang as they left their room, dressed thicker than usual. They still felt rather cold underneath layers, and the see-through silk did nothing to warm them. The figure tucked their hands in their sleeves while hurrying towards the carriage, the clicks of their muji** echoing through the courtyard. They nearly trip over themselves upon crossing the threshold as a gale races by. It’s times like these where the figure is thankful for choosing to apply beeswax** on their hair. A maid carefully helps the figure into the carriage, getting on after them. Right as they disappear behind the curtains, the carriage takes off for the capital.

Along the way, unease began to fester within the figure’s heart, unsure if Dan Heng will accept their sachet. They tried to calm themselves down, yet to no avail. When one worry is eased, another blooms. What if I’m too late and he’s already taken? The figure sighed.

“What’s wrong my liege?” The maid asked.

The figure shook their head and solemnly replied, “Nothing.”

The longer the ride became, the more nauseous the figure grew. Negative thoughts plagued their mind, many scenarios of them ending up heartbroken. Suddenly, the carriage feels more stuffy than usual. Yet at the same time, a cold feeling rushes down their body. As if reading their mind, the maid drew back the curtain for fresh air and comforted the figure.

“It’s okay my liege. His highness won’t reject you. I know it.”

“How?”

“Well it’s been quite the talk amongst us maids. Especially since your last meeting with him. We all saw how he looks at you.”

“What do you mean look at me? Isn’t he suppose to see?”

The maid giggled, “Not that kind. I mean yes, he is suppose to see. But I’m talking about those kinds. You know, the ones where a person yearns for the other?”

The figure is left confused. Never had they ever seen the look where one yearns for the other. Yet somehow, her words had left the figure feeling better.

The figure’s legs were weak by the time they descended the carriage. Their maid held an arm, helping and guiding them through the street as they sought out a familiar face. And soon enough, they found him standing right in front shop. Upon approaching him, the figure could tell he’s been focused on staring at the neatly shaped rice papers — trying to choose between the different quality of paper. With their right hand on top and left on bottom the figure bowed** — mustered up courage and spoke, “Greetings, Dan Heng.”

His gazed snapped from the paper and onto the figure. A miniscule smile is seen, as he does the same: Left on top, right on bottom.

“Greetings.” he paused, observing the figure. “Are you well?”

Their hand clutched the sachet tightly — trying to remain composed, “Yes,” a deep breath, “I have something to give you.”

Dan Heng’s eyebrows raised at this. Something to give him? Him, of all people? The figure pulls out the sachet from their sleeves and with both hands, hands it to Dan Heng. He looks at it for a brief period and with two hands, accepts the sachet. And upon having it in his possession, he unravels the strings then loops it through his silk belt. The figure watched with wide eyes as the butterflies dissipate, leaving behind only warmth. Dan Heng looks up to see the figure, now his beloved, standing there meekly.

“从认识你的时候，我一直都没见过这样的你。原本活泼的你现在变害羞了。哎呀，你怎么会这么可爱呢？” [Since meeting you, I have never seen you like this before. The lively person you were, have now turned shy. Oh, why are you so cute?] He softly teased.

Upon hearing his comment, his beloved’s face started flaring — resulting them to hide behind their sleeve as they averted their gaze. Dan Heng giggled as his hand rose to lower their arms and cup the side of the face. They looked up at him as he brushed his thumb across their cheek. His hand lowered only to take a hold onto their hand, intertwining it. With a gentled tug, he led her deeper into the market, leading the couple to spend the rest of the day wandering from stand to stand with fleeting affection.

When their gaze met Dan Heng’s, they understood what those around them were saying. Dan Heng isn’t one to display emotions freely, yet his actions speaks louder than words. And his eyes — his eyes will always be the first to say how he’s feeling.

We’ve all heard of method actors, and now get ready for method writers. No seriously though (TMI) I gave myself anxiety all because I was writing about MC getting anxious. What MC goes through is actually how my anxiety goes which is why I bring snacks or sour candy to hold down nausea. So I’m sorry that it sounds rushed. It doesn’t help that I bilingual too hard to the point that when even as I’m typing, my brain is just going “oonga boonga”. Anyways, here’s the cultural explanations and credits.

Teal jade is a literally a combo I made up. I’m under the assumption that Hoyo never truly confirmed if Dan Heng actually is 青龙。I know 青 translates to green, but in actuality, the green that is referred looks a little more blueish. Teal isn’t exactly it, but jade isn’t either. It’s very complicated to explain as it’s a color that isn’t really popular in the west. Think of the color this way, under certain lighting (and sometimes angle) the green will look more teal-ish. almost looking blue. Other times, it’ll have a more light jade color. I can’t remember the very ceramic style that uses this sort of “green”.

Liusu tree [流苏树] scientifically named Chionanthus retusus, is a tree with flowers that makes the tree look like it has lots of snow on it.

王子 means prince. Initially I had wanted to use 公子. But knowing how Xianzhou alliance had only allied with Vidyaharas, it only makes sense (in my brain at least) to have him be a prince. Not a king though, cuz that means they would have to meet and travel under different circumstances.

The use of muji 木屐 (commonly called ‘clogs’) can be dated as far back as pre Qin dynasty (Yellow emperor’s rule). It comes in many styles, very similar to how modern day slides look. Another style is one that is similar to geta. It remained popular until about the end of Song dynasty. Clogs are mostly worn in the south where there’s lots of rain and mud. Xishi is said of have worn clogs due to her insecurity of having big feet — so when she walked the skirt hid the clogs, but the clogs are still able to produce rhythms (think how catchy those rhythms must be).

Beeswax was used in ancient China as a way to hold back hair and to keep away fly-aways. Think of it as mousse or gel for ancient civilization.

Different dynasties had different ways of greeting each other. Though one thing remains roughly the same. Women (in this case feminine leaning) would have right hand on top, and left on bottom. Men are vice versa. The only time when it’s swapped are times like funerals. Although MC is gn, Dan Heng is masculine — thus to balance that out, MC would have to have a more feminine personality.

As for bowing, this depends on class. Kneeling or ketou 磕头 would not be done with (han-majority ethnic group) towards someone that aren’t parents. Of course, these are base rules as circumstances also apply — but it’s a good thing to note.

I wish I can attach links that I got these from, but I had obtained these info from the span of 2-3 years :’(. So if anyone finds these, feel free to link it so others who are interested can take a peak.

Divider Credits

All dividers used came from animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[smallmariofindings]

In Paper Mario, the entrance to Toad Town passes through a pavilion with a red roof. One half of it can be seen west of the town, on the last screen of Goomba Road, while the other can be seen in the town plaza. Despite being two halves of the same building, the tops of the structures are not connected; only by passing underneath it can Mario move from one area to the other.

Interestingly, there is an unused loading zone to the right of the roof of the Goomba Road half of the building, which leads to the roof of the Toad Town half (which is not solid and causes Mario to fall through it), accessible by clipping around the area with Lakilester.

This heavily suggests that at some point during development, the roofs of the two halves were supposed to be connected, before the idea was abandoned and the Toad Town half had any collision removed.

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