#ok the armor in this one is still A++++++

[moodymisty]

I mean you got anything sweet for Blood Angels...

Though my brain keeps jumping to Flesh Tearers but I feel like that's just me trying to get myself to write for Flesh Tearers (and Lamenters)

(Rambling idea below)

I mean lets be honest Blood Angels are ultimate predators for humans... being so handsome I mean Sanguinius was often called ethereal and other worldly with his beauty. So of course his sons are handsome and all so well bred for the arts... easy to lure in many humans to just listen to their prose or see their paintings.

Just don't show up during your period because suddenly a lot of the poetry is about blood or blood adjacent... they can't seem to find the right red paint... and why do so many of them look at you like they are dying of thirst?

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Do I have something for Blood Angels- BOY DO I! Enjoy! I didn't exactly do your idea but I've had this plot in my head for weeks and wanted to use it and you're ask was the only one that let me /sob Not my best work by far, but I hope you enjoy.

Relationships: Unnamed Blood Angel/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Oral, Period blood kink/menstrual kink that type of stuff, Is this too weird? maybe I dunno you guys all seem like freaks so hopefully this will go over well? If not I can just return to my dungeon

"Why are we going this way?"

This is a long way around, though some of the Red Tear's maintenance areas. He doesn't answer you however, and with disgruntlement you let the question lie as you return to more civilized parts of the Red Tear.

This whole interaction has been odd, since he had picked you up to escort you back from your duties. Normally he doesn’t act like this; He's stoic and lacks a good bit of emotion yes, but you almost feel as if now he’s taking you to your execution.

"I thought you were missing,"

You had jokingly said, walking closer to him. This planet had been pleasant enough after the Blood Angels brought it under the Imperium, but you're quite eager to return to Terra. Or at least the Red Tear.

He ignored your little comment and stepped closer, but you noticed his face change when he got close enough to touch you. His body became more rigid, and you furrowed your brow as you looked up at him.

"Are you ok?" You say as he clears his throat and nods stiffly. "Yes. We should return to the Red Tear. Our work here is done."

You look up at him again try and get any sort of hint as to how he's feeling, but he only has that same, stiff expression; Though slightly more irritated than usual.

You round yet another corner to see a group of freshly armored Blood Angels leaving one of the armoring rooms. They all perk up at the sight of you, staring at you like something fierce. You get more than a bit uncomfortable under their gaze, until your supposed guardian grabs your arm and swiftly pulls you down the hall past them. He glares at them to keep their distance, and you grab at his gauntlet to try and relieve some of the pressure. You're arm is in pain from how tight he's pulling you along, until you stop in front of a room he opens.

It's not your own, so you presume it's his. He shoves you inside.

"Stay here."

As a diplomat you technically reside outside the command structure of the Blood Angels, but no one in their right mind would disobey an astartes. Especially one that is looking at you with such fire in his eyes. He turns to leave, but your sudden question makes him turn towards you again.

"What is all this? Why are you-" He grabs you tight at the shoulder, and you gasp in pain as the force of it pins you to the wall.

"Why do you smell like blood?"

You pull at his hand and grimace in pain, and at his oddly specific question.

"What? It's just normal, It's that time of the-" He lightly shakes your shoulder and despite speaking relatively quiet, his voice still hits you in the chest with out seething it sounds.

"Every one of my brothers on this ship can smell you. You're lucky I got to you before one of them did."

Even if they did, why does he speak of it like something would happen? Like he avoided it for a reason? He's talking as if you would be in danger if they found you, for something seemingly so simple.

“What would happen if they did?”

You quietly question, watching the expression on his face instantly change. He looks conflicted, like he’s nearly lost in thought. For awhile you think you may not even get an answer from him, until you finally see his lips shift.

“I, assume you’ve heard mutterings of a curse in your time here.”

You have vaguely- even he had cursed it once. At the time you'd assumed it some sort of unfamiliar swear or perhaps just an odd phase adopted by Blood Angels, and so you'd paid it little mind other than the initial confusion. When you hesitantly nod, he continues.

“The curse is real. It has changed our legion. And,” You figure he’s about to speak a secret he shouldn’t to someone like you, so you stay quiet.

“It makes the smell of blood, tempting.” He continues. “It sates a hunger only we Blood Angels possess, and keeps us from going raving mad.”

He quiets, and you feels his gauntlets shift on your shoulders. He changes the subject to something adjacent; You assume he probably feels guilt for confessing a chapter secret to you.

“You’re not hurt?” He says confusedly. You aren’t particularly surprised he knows little about such things, though explaining it to him in this state would take far too long and be far too unfruitful.

“No. I'm fine.” He hums. You think you hear him mumble about hearing such a thing from somewhere, a woman's illness, and the comment would make you laugh if he wasn't looming down on you so intensely.

“Very well.” He shifts his jaw a bit, the scars along it shifting. He seems to have run out of things to say, though it also seems like he can't pull himself away from you. His throat and jaw are tightly wound, like he's holding something back.

“You want some… Don’t you?”

He seems surprised oddly enough; Perhaps by your bluntness and stupidity. Many legions would not take kindly to you assuming things about them, but Blood Angels are remarkably kinder. He is remarkably kinder.

“I," He grimaces. "I would owe you a great deal. Our superiors look at those with the Red Thirst as little more than a danger.”

The Blood Angels have been nothing but kind to you, in their own way. To even just be on the Red Tear is a safety and security you couldn’t repay.

It helps that it's him; You haven't ventured far around the Blood Angels ship alone, and you shamefully feel yourself beginning to get attached. If this curse can be sated by something so seemingly menial to you, then you have no reason to refuse.

“Ok.”

You move to take off your pants hands shaking just barely in nervousness, as he drops to his knee with one heavy thud. The sound startles you, just as your pants fall to the floor.

Once they’re off, and just your underwear remains, you hesitate for a moment. His stare is so intense, and you don't know how to describe it other than hungry. Given what he's told you, it makes perfect sense.

After what feels like and eternity of you being frozen, you finally manage to regain enough control to peel your underwear away. He viscerally reacts to the presumably iron filled scent, and the sight of blood against your now bare skin.

You see the way the knot in his throat bobs just above the black skinsuit beneath his armor.

With a speed that has you almost letting out a scream he grips your hips pulls them forward enough that the angle feels precarious, but he has a solid enough grip that leaves no chance of you falling. He throws your right leg over his shoulder next to open your thighs, your foot pressing against the front of his jetpack.

He hesitates for a moment, and you look away from the sheer intensity of his expression before you feel his hot breath on your skin.

You feel the moment he finally takes a taste and you can barely hold in a whimper, it coming out a tiny squeak as you feel the way his hands shift and tighten against your hips. Any hesitation he had is gone near instantly, as he presses his mouth against your cunt.

His armored hands grip at your hips with a strength that makes you ache and fear bruises, easily keeping your legs spread with minimal effort as his tongue laps at your folds. You can see the blood smear across his face, though he pays no mind. He acts as if this is the first meal he's had in ages, or the last he'll ever have.

But while perhaps your pleasure might not be at the forefront of his mind in his quite literal bloodlust, the way his tongue slips between your folds and teases you still makes shivers go up your spine. Your hands grip his hair and attempt to steady yourself, as his strength pushes you around. It's impossible to stop the way your hips push forward trying to get closer to him, gasping as he briefly brushes around your clit.

Suddenly however he pulls himself away, mouth stained much the same as your cunt and upper thighs are. You can see his eyes are glassy his throat bobs.

"I should stop."

He mumbles something to himself about loosing himself further to the Thirst, as if he's treading a line between sating his hunger or falling victim to it. You, perhaps stupidly, encourage him to do the exact opposite.

"No, no just, just a bit more,"

You breathlessly whisper and attempt to pull him closer. He silently resists for a moment, before the knot in his throat bobs and he returns his mouth to between your legs. You can't stop the loud moan you let out into the barren room, damning the consequences of anyone hearing you.

You're so close to that peak you only need a bit more, and the way his teeth scrape against your skin and nose presses against your clit gets you there. Your hands tighter in his hair and you inhale, trying not to cry out. But even after you start to come down he continues, his mouth overstimulating so many little nerves you feel on the edge of tears. Your face is hot as your fingers grip at his armor, desperately whining for him to simultaneously stop, and never stop.

He pulls away again, and gently emoves your leg from his shoulder to let you stand and wobbly attempt to yourself. Your knees feel weak and so many of your muscles are sore, even though he was exceedingly gentle with you.

Realizing his face is a mess, he uses the fabric of his cape to wipe it; How fortuitous the fabric is red.

"You should still keep clear of my brothers until this, passes. You never know how close one of them is to loosing themselves and hurting you." You'll heed the warning. If they're anything more than what gusto he already displayed, you wouldn't be surprised angels more lost to the thirst would be dangerous to you. He displayed a remarkable degree of restraint, you could tell.

Though, a curious part of your mind wonders what he'd be like if he hadn't.

"Do you at least feel better? I don't know how the Thirst works but," He nods.

"Yes. It is nice to not have my head so clouded. I... Thank you."

You smile, before accidentally letting more words tumble out of your lips that you should've allowed. It seems his presence always seems to makes you accidentally forget how to not act a fool.

"Always happy to help." He takes your phase at face value, though you suppose you wouldn't refuse him if he asked again. It wasn't as if this ended badly for you.

"You are kind, offering yourself to a Blood Angel. Not many would."

Beyond their sophisticated veneer they are still dangerous predators more than capable of killing you with the slightest motion, you understand why any few who learn about their supposed defect would fear them.

Maybe something is clouding your judgement, but you don't fear him; At least not yet.

Adjusting your clothing you watch as he rises to his full height, his cape flowing behind him. You grip your own fingers nervously and look around.

"But, would you mind bringing my back to my own quarters? I'll admit I have no idea where on the ship you brought me, and I'm still a bit woozy." He offers a gentle but stoic smile.

"Of course."

#space marine x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[asmrrpaddict]

Favorite characters from favorite VAs

Some will have more than others if I can’t decide or they have a larger catalog of characters. Sorry if I spell names wrong. This actually turned out much longer than I expected, but have you seen my name? I like a lot of them! And this barely scratches the surface of my subscription list. Nothing is in any order.

Nomad Tales and Audio:

Caleb, Deacon, Conner, Caltraxus, & the unnamed Werewolf from the Werewolf x Werewolf series

Redacted Audio:

Sam, David, Caelum, Gavin, & Vincent

Joseph Holloway:

Ivan, Grom, MJ Jarrod Tillus, Casper aka The Inquisitor

Good Boy Audio:

Hades, Yargwyn, Devlin, Kalimos, & Hipswitch (Ok, so I know Devlin and Hipswitch are voiced by Zsaku and Yuurivoice, but they are still GBA characters.)

Reverie Audio:

Law, Desmond, Neo, & Cyril

MasterMissy:

Ethan, Darrin, Jedidiah, Sammy, & Magnus

Escaped Audio:

Jean, Crow, Ivan, & Fletcher

Yuurivoice:

Seth, Alphonse, Charlie, & Aizawa.

Jouska: sadly a lot of his don’t have names, but I’ll come up with something Vampire (Vampire/Cupcake), Morph(eus), & Bounty Hunter or Cosmic??? from (Stardust and Cosmic)

Siren’s Son:

Thresh, Bek, Bren, Abul, & Faceless

Icey ASMR:

Damon, Nico, & Tatshiro

Scythe Audio:

Hunter, Dark, Kreed, Marcus, L, V, & Jay Jay (Again, L isn’t voiced by Scythe, but she is one of his characters.)

Shining Armor: Robert, Ellion, & Officer Ellis Knight

Nyxmoon Reads: Adam, Henry, & Aiden

Ycey Narrates:

Zach, Oliver, Edlin, & Morgan

AJ Audio

Alistair, Prince Yvan, King Atticus, & the dragon shifter from Eternally Madly Yours

(Yvan is voiced by Siren’s Son, but on AJ’s audio.)

Zsaku:

Xanthus, Zaros, & Ellis

#asmr roleplay #redacted asmr #redacted audio #escaped audios #good boy audios #AJ audios #zsakuva #shining armor #nyxmoon reads #scythe audio #joseph holloway #yuurivoice #icey asmr #ycey narrates #sirens son asmr #jouska #mastermissy #reverie audios #nomad tales and audio #too many fandoms #too many favorites #favorite #long post #long list #addiction

[windwyrm]

#ok the armor in this one is still A++++++ #even tho it's like. oh my god NO it's 6 years old at this point #oc: Kruga #the guy with the hair #wow fanart #world of warcraft fanart #wow orc #orc

[cutemeat]

im just begging.. for the love of god... . let Glenn and Megan lead the writers rooms next season for Sunny S16...

#im not saying theyre knights in shining armor or any of tht allright i know i know #theyve made their fair share of shit moves. not saints. not what im saying #but their perspectives n the show lately.. its the influence the show needs rn ok... like. Megs directing n Glenns writing was so STRONGs15 #megan has proven shes more than ready to like. take charge in that way for s16. her directing in s15 was SO good #like u Know his shit on the st paddys podcast abt ‘he doesnt realize how condescending it is that he thinks U need His approval’ like ok way #to deflect rob!!! #like rob can push for these changes sometimes i will give him that. he pushed megan to direct in the first place. but hes not very reliable #when it comes to ‘following thru’ #and Continuing to make good on those changes. he doubts the decisions too fast #is how it feels in the writing... #but his instincts are generally good #anyway. back to the writers room lol #like s12 was good for this reason. why cant they see LOL #im sorry if this comes true actually n it sucks. but s15 with glenn back was already so much better than s13/s14 …?? #it wasnt funnier but the writing was stronger. id prefer a well written serious sunny thats fun to dig into than having a few good laughs #but overall lack of substance aside from like. one stand out episode that.. isnt even that hard to delve into after some time like LOL #anyway. #im still waiting on that Story by Glenn Howerton n Directed by Megan Ganz credit allright 🫣 #i WILL repeat the mistakes of pre-s14 hype its only fair to follow patterns #parker texts

[robo-dino-puppy]

quen navigator

#horizon forbidden west #hfw #aloy #hfw ng+ facepaints #quen navigator #tried taking some shots of the new facepaints #but idk they weren't great... #this one looks ok i think #not my fav paint of the new ones #but still cool #hopefully we get some quen armors in the future! #glitched myself to sf #i don't want to break the game tho #so i only took some pics #it's hard bc in direct light they mostly look like white dots #but they're actually colorful #game screenshots #game photography #hfw photomode

[arthur-rex]

So, a few RPs I’m publishing (with RP partners’ permission) on AO3 tonight:

BROTHERS OF THE SWORD -  Royal Twins AU feat. @fatedestined​

THE TASTE OF IMMORTALITY - Armor Vampire AU feat. @sorceress-queen​

Check the warnings on AO3 please. 

The identical twins RP is rated Teen and Up The incestuous vampire RP is Explicit and has very adult elements. 

#v. duality of fate #v. the taste of immortality #Artsy things #Manips are mine #//still uploading the vamp one there's quite a lot written #//ok to like and reblog if you'd like #fatedestined #sorceress-queen #RP promos #Arthur Pendragon #Artorius Pendragon #Morgana Pendragon #Armor #tw: vampires #tw: blood

[crowcryptid]

They put the space diaper on gen II but sorry it’s just not working (from todays canon fodder)

#halo #alternate reality gen II with black undersuits and space diaper but it still doesn’t look very good. F #we don’t need to remember 95% of gen II armor #some is ok #I think the one all the way to the left looks ok #everyone else looks a bit awkward

[technobotany]

character bingo: kamado, bitch

SPOILERS IN TAGS

like beni, i need more time to think on him but honestly im here for what i fuckin saw

#spoilers start here #ok FIRST OF ALL THE ORIGINAL FIT SLAPS #THE ARMOR... was a little plain to me but also fit what was going on #not everything has to look fancy to have meaning #very cool that it looks like wikstroms armor tho #ALSO IM VERY INCLINED TO SAY HE'S GALARIAN DUE TO HOW HE THREW HIS POKEBALL #though the accent he dropped was more orrean if you ask me but i am biased (loves pokemon colloseum/xd) #i think there was another reason but i forgor lol #ok so i was okay with him at the beginning of the game. AND THEN THAT HAPPENED AND I WAS PISSED. AND THEN I LEARNED ABOUT WHY HE WAS LIKE #THAT #on one hand im still angry that he did that but also trauma does shit to a mf. i cant exactly blame him for trauma #and he did apologize sincerely so hes done his part to become better imo #but i do wish we kinda got more on his backstory? its like. what beni tells you and what an npc says and thats it i think #i want to know MORE about the npcs. MORE #but im always like that so lol

[diniidjarin]

not to get recovering game studies major on main but. once again. i am thinking about the ludonarrative dissonance of playing a biotic shepard/ryder. SO many setbacks could be avoided with a last-minute barrier but i guess they teach that one in NPC classes only! The camera shifts and suddenly every ability except Gun goes out the window. Even the most competent fucker in a galaxy inevitably loses braincells when put in a situation eh

#mass effect #beloved trainwreck game. #peak fucking moment was chasing the cerberus bot on mars in me3. bitch had plot armor immune to everything from overload to charge #but went down to a qte headshot. aight. #ok she did crawl out of a shuttle crash for that one but still. indulge my need for a laugh. #somewhat related: miranda ''biotics can tear a mech apart'' lawson going down three seconds into first encounter w/ one on freedoms progress #what i wouldnt give to see cutscenes tailored to player class in this series. granted it'd likely warrant far greater diversity in #level progression if not the plot itself but on god is it wild to watch my telekinetic human missile be nerfed to fuck once per mission! #gonna start writing fix-its but solely for the moments my idiot protag had to be standardized for cutscene budget hshshs #goblin noises.

[smallhatlogan]

we were all being so jaded and then the fallout amazon series was actually good and fun wtf

#okay yeah i was cautiously desperately optimistic because i wanted it to be good sooo bad #ANYWAY. there were a few issues i had. but mostly like. special effects wise #did anyone else notice that multiple suits of power armor had IDENTICAL wear on them? did that drive anyone else nuts? #i think the de-aging on that one actor for one scene was the worst thing though #ALSO OK THE communist meeting where she goes 'i'm not communist that's a dirty word for people who aren't crazy' or w/e like. #no you can just say you're a communist. You're having meetups to discuss your politics that you have to keep quiet about and actors are #getting blacklisted because they're caught going to these meetings... hm.. i know this is an amazon show but still

[triptuckers]

sparring sessions - percy jackson

Request: yes! "ok so ik it’s kinda (by kind of i mean VERY) cliche, but i was wondering if u could do like an angst -> fluff where like percy and reader get into a fight n stuff and he like admits that he loves them??" Pairing:  percy jackson x reader Summary:  when an argument between you and percy gets heated, some things are revealed Warnings:  mentions of injuries and blood, arguing, angst Word count:  858 A/N: raaaaaahhh I LOVE me some cliche's LETS GO !! thanks for you request, enjoy!

it started out as an innocent sparring session between percy and jake, a hephaestus kid. a couple kids from hermes, hephaestus, and athena decided to get together to train. you and percy also joined.

you'd been at camp longer than percy, so you had trained him in the beginning. the two of you often train together even though percy is now better than you.

but somehow he still looks at you while sparring with someone else. if it's to read your facial expressions or just because you're in his line of sight, you're not sure.

but today it nearly went wrong.

while percy and jake were sparring, percy was looking at you and too late to block jake's sword. he managed to make a deep cut in percy's arm.

the session was immediately ended and percy put his sword away. while the other kids continued their training session, you walked away. you couldn't stay there and be around percy right now. clearly he hadn't listened to you.

but percy, having seen your face, follows you.

as soon as you get to percy's cabin - which provides you with more privacy than your own - you turn around to look at him with an irritated look on your face.

'I told you to ignore me if you're sparring!' you say.

percy frowns. but nothing bad happened? why are you mad at him? besides, he can't look away from you when he's sparring. he thought you knew this.

'and how am I supposed to do that?' says percy, watching as you take off your armor and neatly put it away. 'you're the one that taught me. of course I need to see if you think I'm doing a good job.'

you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. you're trying so hard to stay calm right now.

'of course I think you're doing a good job, percy.' you say. 'I know you're good at what you do. but you'd do a great job if you would listen to my advice and avoid getting stabbed.'

percy makes a soft offended noise. 'first of all, I didn't get stabbed. I got nicked!'

you groan out loud 'percy! come on, don't be stubborn!'

'I'm the one being stubborn? you should see yourself when you're sparring. you want it to be perfect but fighting never is! it's messy, no matter how good you train someone.'

'I'm going for a walk.' you say, before you get angrier and say things you don't mean.

you grab your armor and walk towards the door, but he steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.

'oh no, you're not. we're not done yet.' says percy, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying the cut on his arm that he didn't have time to heal yet.

'got more to say?' you say.

'yes. you never did actually tell me what I did wrong.' says percy. 'you're mad, I can tell. but you didn't tell me what it was that I did that's made you mad.'

'yes I did. I told you that you need to ignore me when you're sparring. focus all of you attention on the opponent, not me.'

'I can't do that.'

'can't focus on the opponent? I noticed.'

'that's not what I meant!'

'then what do you mean!'

'I meant I can't ignore you when I'm sparring!' says percy loudly. 'I can never ignore you, don't you understand that? whenever you're near you always have my attention, I can never look away. even when you're not near me I'm thinking about you. gods, you're always on my mind because I love you, okay? so I'm sorry if I can't look away from you when I'm sparring!'

you hadn't realised how close you were to each other. now percy's face is close to yours, both of you breathing heavily.

you knew percy liked you, obviously. you wouldn't be staying in his cabin almost every night if he didn't. but this? even though you knew percy had liked you for a long time, you hadn't been together for that long.

'you love me?' you say in a soft voice, feeling your anger and irritation ebb away.

percy closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he just now realises what he said. then he sighs and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there's nothing but sweetness in them.

'yeah. I do.' says percy. 'I've loved you for a long time, actually.'

you smile and want to say something but percy's eyes widen.

'wait, shit, is that too soon? should I have waited to say it? oh gods if I-'

'percy.' you say, shutting him up by stepping even closer to him.

'it's okay. I love you too.' you say.

percy grins and his eyes twinkle. without warning, he puts his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips against yours. he can feel the smile on your lips.

when he pulls back, you're both smiling.

'you still want to go on that walk?' says percy.

'definitely not.' you say.

percy laughs and kisses you again, your argument already forgotten.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

[spacebarbarianweird]

Astarion x f!Tav pregnancy headcanons

@treshmind @chillingintheunderdark @azu21 @rachelle-on-the-run

Masterlist

Headcanons

Ok, it turned out to be much longer than I expected. And very angsty

None of you have any idea it was possible to get pregnant

Astarion is a vampire. He definitely "shoots blanks."

The ability to knock someone up was taken away from him along with his life many years ago.

Until one day, you feel weird. Sick, exhausted.

It's not like you pay too much attention to your monthly bleeding (what's the point anyway?"), but you notice it's been a while

And Astarion, after feeding on you, says your blood tastes different. Not bad, not weird. Just different.

And the scent isn't like it was before.

You are terrified you've caught one of these magical sicknesses or curses no one knows how to cure.

You go to the healer, who gives you a herbal drink, saying, "Take this; it's good for the child, and don't bother me until you feel something is off."

And you stay in the healer's hut, shocked, trying to understand what kind of child he is fucking talking about?

Until you realize.

You remember the night half a month ago, when a group of thugs attacked the village where you and Astarion live together.

Astarion returned from the woods drunk with sentient creatures' blood, his eyes glowing red and his skin blazing hot.

He just swept you away from your feet, dragged inside, stripped you of your light armor, and pinned you to the bed until the next sunset.

It was not the first time he was that "blood drunk," - but it was the first time it happened one of the days you could possibly conceive.

It's just a coincidence. The coincidence you carry inside your womb.

You return home, scared and shivering. By the time Astarion notices you are back, you are already crying.

You have no fucking idea how to be a mother. You have no fucking idea how to raise a child. What are you carrying within?

A person? A monstrosity? Your own death?

What creatures are born from vampires?

Astarion is no less shocked.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and swears in Elven.

The healer may be wrong. You can't get pregnant.

And now you feel even more uneasy - what if you were assaulted?Do you have any memory gaps? What if someone used you?

Astarion leaves at sunset, and you stay alone with your fears

He returns in the morning, calm and quiet. Noticing you are still on your feet, he carries you to bed and asks to sleep while he "figures something out."

When you wake up in the late evening, Astarion has a sudden mood change

He is happy. He smiles. He pulls you to himself, placing a hand on your flat belly.

Then you notice a stack of books.

Dhampirs. Children of mortals and vampires. With insanely long lifespans, immunity for vampirism, and living beating hearts.

"You see. That's what we are going to have".

You slowly start adapting to your new condition,

The child grows fast, and your body changes. Breasts get a bit bigger, and you can't wear your light armor anymore (it is suddenly too small). You are constantly tired and hungry.

Even the most innocent teases from Astarion make you cry - and he panics every time it happens.

He has no idea how to handle a pregnant woman.

You quarrel. Constantly. Because you are both scared to death.

What is worse, Astarion has a serious regress. There are nightmares and self-harm tendencies. He runs away to the woods or the Underdark tunnels at least once a week, and you lash at him for leaving you alone every time he gets back.

Besides, it's his fault he didn't stop drinking blood that night

You have nightmares, too.

You envision a monster growing within you that will gnaw through your flesh any time soon.

And yes, women die in childbirth. Even if before that, they'd challenged the fucking gods!

One day, Astarion puts his head on your belly

He caresses it and whispers something in Elven.

"I hear the heartbeat," he says, eyes teary. "I hear our child's heartbeat!"

From that moment, everything changes,

He no longer goes away. He helps you bathe and dress. Brings everything you ask for and ensure you are comfortable sitting and walking. He prepares the place for the child (ignoring a very rational fear that either you or the child dies)

And he sews. He makes the set of clothes for the newborn, embroidering it with protective Elven runes.

Sometimes you both relax enough to discuss the future.

The day of birth comes much earlier than you expect. Almost a month earlier.

The midwife, perfectly knowing the father's nature, pushed Astarion out of the room.

And he spends a few hours helpless and desperate, hearing your cries of pain. If it was the night, he could at least go outside, but, as it happens, it's a sunny day.

He hates himself for doing this to you.

And as for you, you had no idea it could be so painful.

Finally, Astarion has enough and returns to you, kneeling beside the bed

The moment you see him, you grasp his hand as if you are drowning

And then it's all over.

A squeal, desperate and angry, rings out through the room, and you see a newborn in the midwife's hands.

A tiny girl with long pointy ears is placed in your hands. Not a monster. She isn't deformed. Just a baby. Who is very angry with the fact she's been pushed out from the warm womb to this cruel and unpredictable world.

Astarion can't believe what exactly he sees.

He has a child. He has a daughter. The most normal thing anyone can think of is now a reality for him, someone who once had to get out of his own grave.

Then you give the newborn girl to Astarion, and the moment he takes her, he bursts into tears, pressing the child against his chest.

The girl doesn't cry anymore, piercing Astarion with her dark eyes.

You, still tired and in pain, drink the healing potion left by the midwife and you look up at Astarion.

He notices your gaze and kisses you.

"My love, thank you. This is a gift", he whispers through the tears.

--

Tag list:

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #dadstarion #astarion being a dad #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon

[cranberryjuice-posts]

please do clarisse la rue x aphrodite reader who’s gorgeous and glowing and short like a ball of sunshine

- opposites attract -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Aphrodite! Reader

An - ive gotta rewrite by Abby series bc it’s not going the way I want it 😭 I wasn’t really sure exactly what to write so I hope this is good 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Everyone at camphalf blood knew who you were. Not for negative reasons however. Being a daughter of Aphrodite not only boosted your social status but it was also your actions.

The first to volunteer to help when the infirmary was low on staff, ready to take on any chore from helping run the camp store to labor jobs that required you to get dirty. Even when the saytrs felt as though they were being ignored by the demigods you helped give them their voice.

So when you of all people started dating clarisse the most intimidating person at camp it was a bit of a culture shock. Though with you sweet and kind nature you seemingly took the most aggressive cabin and somehow made them slightly calmer.

Though when people tried to approach clarisse about you her former aggressiveness would come back. Most things that involved you got her heated. The recent endeavor being you both Separated for the weeks capture the flag game.

“No you’re on my team it’s not for discussion” clarisse spoke as if she knew it was fact, her arms crossed and her armor on you couldn’t help but fall back in love with her.

“But it is for discussion because I’m not” you chuckled softly, a gentle smile crossing your features. “I’ll be fine Claire I’m not a child”

“I’m aware of that but what if someone on my team hurts you? Or what if you get hurt by one of our traps I don’t like not being able to protect you” she placed her hands on her hips trying to open her stance to you.

“Aww” you gave a playful frown tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Placing both hands on her cheeks you gave them a small squeeze. “I’m ok, besides I have charmspeak remember I know how to handle myself”

Her shifting weight and the look of annoyance on her face all showed she did care about you deep down, and as much as people wanted to Deny it clarisse was yours just as much as you were hers. “I’ll see you after the game pretty” stepping on your tippy toes you gave her a kiss.

Turning to start walking away clarisse began yelling instructions to you. “Wait! Make sure your breast plate is tight— oh! And be sure to wear a helmet an—-“

“I got it clarisse!” You laughed back at her, giving her a final wave.

——-

The games had already began with you being in charge of reclaiming the flag with Luke and his team.

Stepping through the forest you carefully looked around worried that maybe someone would jump out. Which like it was a movie happened. Red team kids running out with blades swinging. Blue team defending themselves and you mentally scolding yourself for not wearing enough armor.

Before you even realized it you had a deep cut in your calf. Landing on the ground with a cry of pain you looked back instantly having to dodge the falling camper.

“You good!” Luke shouted helping you up, limping some you found your balance breathlessly nodding. The red team currently had either been knocked to the ground or retreated in fear.

“The flags up ahead.. behind Zeus’s fist if I’m correct” you took a stance against a tree, using it as support. “I’m gonna stay here”

“You’re sure you’re fine” he asked cautiously. Even though luke knew clarisse couldn’t touch him he still didn’t want to hear her mouth afterwards.

You nodded giving him a semi confident look. “Just go” You chuckled sending him off.

Though it was quiet for a while you heard a crying like sound. Confused you pushed off the tree and started limping towards the noise. Through the trees and down to the creek you saw a hurt hell hound.

Most times you would of killed a monster without hesitation but this time… this time she wasn’t a monster. It seemed crazy but this hell hound almost seemed domesticated.

Slowly walking towards her You knelt down beside the dog. At first she bared her teeth at you acting as though you wanted to hurt her, but once she realized you meant no harm she pressed her snout against you.

Once gaining her trust you began to examine her leg. Realizing it was broken you made the conscious decision to quickly leave to grab some sticks for a splint. Petting the hound softly you got up limping away some.

The ground was filled with a multitude of twigs though finding your two heafty pieces of wood was easy. The sound of the conch and a campers scream filled your ears, nearly running back to the creek you saw about all of the kids from the two teams with clarisse and Luke in the creek, their weapons aimed at the hound that looked as tough she was going to attack.

“Stop! Oh my gods stop!” You screamed running in-front of her causing clarisse to dodge to the side and roll fully into the creek.

“Move!” She shouted. The other campers looking equally confused as you shouted a no back at her. “Are You insane?! Don’t go near it” clarisse scrambled out the water to quickly grab your arm.

You turned around trying to pull free only to be unsuccessful. The tension around you made you want to cry but right now isn’t the time. “I need you to trust me… please” you practically begged.

She looked you up and down with a look of worry before gently letting you go. Without another thought you knelt down to the dog, ripping your shirt in half exposing your stomach and began wrapping the hounds broken hind.

The dog was huge, given that she was a monster she was bigger than even a Doberman and beefier than a pit but that didn’t mean she was aggressive.

A few of the other councilors walked down to the water with Chiron standing on a rock near by. “She’s harmless!” You shouted trying to get the defensive campers to become calm. “See! If she wanted to hurt anyone she would of!”

Your urgency only convinced maybe a handful of kids. “It’s a monster.” Clarisse scoffed.

“Yet she didn’t try to bite me when I put her leg into a splint” You corrected. The hound nudged her head into your leg in a comforting way, trying to get your hand to begin to pet her.

Annabeth took a step forward, extending a hand the hound sniffed her before licking up her arm. “Seems harmless to me” the wise girl shrugged.

Chiron made his way down looking across the water and holding a hand up signaling for every camper to relax. “This game is dismissed. Grover summon the Cloven council, get them to set up a meeting so we can figure out what to do for the hound, and for you.. keep her with you until we have a plan”

———

The following week camp halfblood had a new pet. A hellhound you named Rosie.

Sitting with clarisse by the lake letting the water run over your legs from the docs. I’m the distance you saw Rosie swimming around enjoying playing with the water naiads.

“How did you know she wasn’t ruthless” clarisse asked turning her head to look at you.

“I guess the same way I knew you weren’t as mean as everyone assumes. It’s your aura, Rosie’s was soft and hurt begging for any form of kindness” you turned looking at her. The sun light casted across clarisses features illuminating her eyes and skin. “Your so beautiful” you smiled leaning over and softly kissing her

Clarisse smiled wide returning the kiss. She pulled away only keeping her hand on the side of your face. “What did I do to deserve someone like you”

You shrugged your shoulders happily. “Working out helped”

She pulled away with a playful attitude. Causing you to laugh and reach out to her once more.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

[voltronisanobsession]

I saw your child of aphrodite imagine, and it got me thinking, imagine a child of ares as the opposite. They are the most put-together looking imaginable, have a sort of cutsey or croquette aesthetic fashion taste, and are the most kind, loving, and gentle person you would ever meet. So when the assumed aphrodite kid absolutely demolishes the opposing team in capture the flag and gets claimed by ares everyone looses their goddamn minds.

Reader being the Opposite of a Child of Ares

OMG I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK‼️ I actually really love this AHHH

Not proofread 💯

Another entirely unexpected arrival at camp, campers think it’s the most obvious place where you belong, the Aphrodite kids are ready to accept you into their cabin and everything when you get claimed.

The way reader is so put together has everyone entranced. You always pause to find a reflective surface to fix your hair during camp activities, making sure it falls and frames your face perfectly. Walking with grace and avoiding any muddy puddles to avoid ruining the loafers you walked into camp with. Even when you walk by some campers they can smell how fresh and expensive the perfume you wear is. Even your outfits look expensive and flattering on you, the unique style capturing your natural beauty even more!!

So many people think you’re gonna get claimed by Aphrodite by the end of the night, but everyone is surprised when they don’t see the familiar symbol of the goddess when dinner ends. I mean, she usually claims her children by the first day after all!

Nonetheless, the campers are sympathetic towards you, patting your shoulder as they wish you a goodnight while you’re just confused.

“It’s ok, maybe Aphrodite will claim you tomorrow! Don’t let it keep you up at night.”

You don’t even get a chance to tell them you already have a mother before everyone just disperses to their cabins. I find it hilarious to imagine that reader knows Aphrodite isn’t their godly parent while everyone else is just convinced she is cuz they don’t even know who your mortal parent is (kinda sad if you think about lowkey💀)

You’ve just given up on correcting people cuz you’re too nice (and kind of a doormat💔), using your own time to figure out who your real parent is while people keep yapping about Aphrodite.

Despite that, you’re know as a kind, social butterfly. Whenever someone needs help, whether it be from choosing an outfit, doing braids on the younger girls hair, or needing a sparring partner, you’re quick to volunteer. You’re kind to everyone even the Ares cabin even if they sometimes let snide remarks slip on what you’re wearing that day.

Fast forward to Friday😍 pass dinner again and you’re STILL not claimed people just assumed you’ve somehow angered your supposed mother.

It was revealed that the game for the night is capture the flag earlier in the week and everyone is bustling with life. I feel like Ares!Reader lives in some form of constant confusion since no one tells you anything so when people excitedly give you the run down of the game, they’re surprised when you want to play as well!

Usually the Aphrodite kids sit out on harsh games like this so it catches them off guard when you start putting on armor and grabbing a weapon so you can join the game.

As much the campers like you, the leaders are hesitant to choose you for their teams since they believe that you won’t be much help😭💔

Putting you as defense with some other campers for the flag, nobody really expects you to fight well if enemies make it past their offense group. Lowkey kinda hurts you that they think you need to be watched after but you still stand your ground, tense as you hear yelling eachoing throughout the forest.

When you see campers from the opposing team come running into sight, you get ready to clash against them until your partner tells you to guard the flag instead. While watching them fight, your skin practically ITCHES to join.

Your heart beat fastens watching them, gripping the sword harder as more enemies trampled from the forest, your own teammates stumbling after them. When one camper, Percy you learned his name was, managed to wiggle through your teammates, many of his team fought through the barrier as well.

Raising his sword, you finally gave into your urges to fight, swiftly meeting and blocking him with your own sword. He didn’t have much time to react before you forcibly shoved him backwards which caused him to stumble into the people behind him. With everyone surprised with your new fire, this gives you an upper hand as you begin swinging your sword at the green eyed boy in front of you. You’re all offense now, forcing him and his team into defense as you push them further away from the flag.

You’re absolutely merciless and fast that you manage to fling Percy’s sword from his grasp and continue to pick out his teammates one by one once he’s no longer a threat. Like it’s not even funny, you’re like a bull as you swing your sword like a maniac.

Everyone is in chaos as they try to get away from you😭😭 your own team doesn’t even know if you’re on their side or not LMAO💀 and from the corner of your eye you see that same boy you taught earlier climbing up the rock your flag was on. So without a second thought you disarm the person in front of you and fling the sword at Percy with as much force as you can.

People gasp as it goes straight into the rock beside him. Had you aimed a few more inches to the right you would have definitely killed him, no doubt. He could only stare back at you in shock, the friendly face he was used to seeing twisted in an unfamiliar, threatening look. The way you looked at him made it feel like you were going to pummel him into the ground if he even dared to continue going for your teams flag.

Even as the sound of a horn faintly echoed in the background, the group of campers were captivated by the bright red symbol glowing above your head. Glancing up, you could only breathe out a soft “Ares” before it slowly faded away into nothing.

It was quiet for a moment before someone jumped on your back and started yelling with joy. Everyone quickly surrounded you, cheering and screaming at how amazing you were. No one saw it coming and that’s what made them even more excited.

Coming out of the woods, campers would still surround you and praise you for your amazing fighting skills!!! When you revealed you never even held a sword before this week, no one believed cuz nobody could just do all that without any training!

Now that Ares claimed you as his, I think reader would have difficulty adjusting to the harsh and brash atmospheres of the Ares cabin.

You’re very different compared to them despite having excellent combat skills and fighting tactics. Your overall appearance and personality makes you stand out against your siblings, which is something they sometimes target you for.

They’ve seen you get stepped on by other campers though, so in their weird way, this is them kinda trying to toughen you up. They’re lowkey proud when they see that you have more witty comebacks whenever they throw comments at you.

Clarisse is one of the few campers that treat you the same, still throwing sly remarks and insults your way, but she does acknowledge that you are one of the strongest, if not the strongest, people in the cabin.

Overall I think Reader is the only camper that everyone gets along with that’s in the Ares cabin! Whenever there are group games or activities that involves fight, everyone is calling dibs on you. You still manage to keep your grace and loving nature even when surrounded by your siblings. Your open personality scares them at first since they’re not used to being fretted over and showing emotions, so it’ll take them some time to get used to your affections!

Ares!Reader shows others that you can be a badass fighter on the field while being a kind person off field! Love this reader tbh😝

#pjo x reader #Percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo headcanons #pjo concept #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x you #percy jackson ask

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Salome!

"La Belle Dame sans Mercy" ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") - A ballad by John Keats

"The poem is about a fairy who condemns a knight to an unpleasant fate after she seduces him with her eyes and singing." please

This screams Knight!König x Fairy!Reader to me.

I just know König would gladly die by the hand of such an ethereal being.

"She looked at me as she did love, and made a sweet moan."

"And sure in language strange she said—'I love thee true.'"

That’s it. Thank you.

I swear this artwork kills me everytime I see it....

Ok this became the silliest fairytale ever 🩷✨️

CW: Historical AU blending with mythical/supernatural AU. König being a dreamy mess of a knight who doesn't fit in "normal" society. Reader is part of faefolk. Heavy Arthurian Romance vibes.

König returns to the castle one day. The son of a great liege lord, a warrior through and through, but some people say he should’ve been a poet: so dreamily he looks beyond the battlements at times, sighs after drinking too much wine, stares off into dark corners of the room while tending to his sword and armour as if he can see little pixies dancing there.

His siblings sometimes hit him on the back of his head, or wave a hand over his eyes when he’s about to slip into the fairy world, a forgotten plane that is not supposed to reach the castle. But the castle stones were taken from the moors and the woods, the old land not bending to the priest’s will no matter how many crosses they brought here. Fragile souls are wanton prey for the elves and the fairies who would take them to their land the moment they drop down their guard, and only prayer and fasting hold them at bay. In the fairylands, there is no toil or sorrow; the food is golden honey and wine, the dance and love everlasting, and the fae girls more beautiful than any human maid.

It sounded too good to be true, and it was: God had created men to work and women to give birth, and all the land was theirs to use and cultivate, it was not made to simply run and frolic upon. Some say that these were just old tales and that Christ would banish these creatures away, turn the land to yielding crops and tame firewood.

But some still believed.

When he was a child, the mighty son of the feared lord took porridge and almonds to the woods. “For the fairy people,” he said with bright, trusting eyes. Stole food from under the mistress’s nose, and no one ever dared to say anything about it.

But when this nonsense carried on to adulthood, people had to intervene. There was work to be done, war, harvest and building, and no matter how many coins this man paid to the visiting bards, it would never turn their stories true.

His arm was strong and his strike was true, but his head seemed to be filled with dandelion wine, even when he hadn’t been drinking. Sighed after this maiden or that, wished to travel to foreign lands, courted every nobleman’s daughter who visited the castle, but no one ever took him seriously.

This man had to watch how lady after lady chose some other valiant knight as their husband, some men whose heads were not filled with fairytales and dreams. They did flirt with him, for who could’ve resisted the temptation of making this giant a little sweaty under all that armor? Armor that demanded plate for two people, and a smith who had the talent to forge such a beastly thing.

Nevertheless, he was always left without a warm embrace, and so he was usually found outside, looking at the full moon or spending time in taverns, choosing the company of thieves and rascals over his serious kin.

And now he has returned from the woods, having been gone for months.

People thought he had finally left to fight for some other lord, posing as a simple footsoldier, a disguise that would relieve him of his tedious duties as a knight. Or to court some “lovely peasant girl” he always talked about – such talks were usually crushed by his father, demanding him to be sensible for once in his life.

But he doesn’t prattle about peasant girls now, nor does he ramble about screaming ships at the bottom of the sea. He doesn’t hold a speech about forgotten stone circles in the forest, the ones that already grow moss. No, he has finally lost it completely.

His eyes are wild, as is his hair; his armour is nowhere to be seen, and his sword is without its sheath. He doesn’t talk about what he saw in that forest to anyone, nor is he willing to tell where he has even been these past few moons.

He seems very shaken when he’s told they were worried he wouldn’t make it to the May Day feast, and asks for how long he was gone, drives a hand through dishevelled hair when he hears that he was away for three full months.

“Three months…” he mutters to himself, then leaves to his room, the huge sword dragging against the stone floor as he goes. He has always, always made sure it wouldn’t dull, but now he’s treating it like it’s become a part of him, confused and lost.

He doesn’t eat, hardly speaks after that.

The food tastes like ash, he says, and the ale tastes like bile. But the following evening, when his mother orders someone to pour her poor son some more wine, he looks up helplessly like a child.

“I have to go back,” he says.

A clamour arises, huffed exclaims of “What on earth is he on about” and “Sir, you only just got back!” His father rises from his chair and orders him to stop this nonsense at once. But this time, there is no embarrassed sweep of hand through hair, no red colour that rises on this peculiar knight’s cheeks. His lips only make a thin line before he rises as well and leaves the hall with a weight on his shoulders and dark determination in his stare.

At the stables, a stout Moorland pony and poor stable boy get to witness the drunken bawls of a forlorn knight. The wine sack almost slips from his hands to the dirt as he slumps against the timber of the stall, distorted face coming to rest against a wide, shaky palm.

Luckily, a friend of his knows where to look, and the stable boy sneaks into the shadows, slightly scared of the sorrow of such a big, intimidating man.

But even the companion who always listened to every enthusiastic story since they were kids and ran across the moors, throwing little rocks at his father’s soldiers and laughing when their helmets made a funny clinky sound, can not understand the drunken babble that comes out of König’s mouth this time.

He starts from the middle, which is highly unusual, and talks in strings of sentences that don’t make sense. “She was real, I just know it,” he repeats, over and over again in the middle of confessions about how beautiful she was, how her hair was like the softest spun yarn, her body incredible, naked and wild when she came to him. That her laugh was like the chime of little bells or the sound of the loveliest harp, a song on its own when she walked to him.

She was fascinated with his sword, especially the pommel and the handle interested her, and the curve in the middle of the blade she brushed with her fingers as if it was an entire vale.

He had never seen a woman touch his sword like that… They were never interested in such things, but she was, and she asked him so many questions.

Had he ever felled a tree?

Did he like squirrels?

Were his thighs as hairy as his chest?

She took him down the river, or he followed her; he can’t remember. Her step was so light it didn’t make a sound, and the moss seemed to turn brighter every time her little foot stepped on it. Her hands were tiny too when she wrapped them around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him until there was nothing left of him: no helmet, no sword, nothing but sun and her, her hands and her lips.

Her mouth was still on his when she whispered she didn’t like his armour because it was so hard and rigid and cold, oh, she wondered if there was a man inside there at all.

So of course he showed her.

She giggled at the sight of him, especially his thighs, knelt down on the moss to see how hairy they were.

And would you believe the way she touched him then? It makes him heady even now…

Yes, he took her. But not the way a man takes a woman. She came to straddle him and laughed again, and the things they did together… He can’t even speak about them, but he knows the sun always shined when they rolled on the grass. Her giggles and moans surrounded him, her soft little thighs were stronger than they looked, her breasts so round and soft, so perfect he swore he had gone to heaven.

He bathed in her, with her, all day long. And the nights… You wouldn’t believe the nights: there was song and dance and more giggling women, and also a man dressed all in leaves, so big and thick he first thought he was a tree. An old king, she said, nothing he should worry about. And the wine tasted like summer and honey and gold; it was red, perhaps, but also like sea amber and sun…

She fed him flowers and laughed, caressed his face and said he’s the biggest and hairiest human she had ever seen. She let him lick honey from her fingertips and caressed him with heather and ivy, opened her mouth before feeding him a soft, sweet piece of cake, showing him how he needed to open his mouth as well if he wanted it on his tongue.

She kissed the crumbs from his lips and trailed a finger down his chest, all the way down, until…

Oh, he can’t talk about it.

It was better than he ever even imagined: better than the stories they tell in the taverns. It was like his wedding night, over and over again, it was like he was Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere.

No, no, she was not an enchantress, although everything about her was enchanting... All the stories came alive with her, even the moon was bigger than anywhere he’d ever seen, the deers ran past them while they made love, and the birds sang even at night.

He told her he loved her, but she didn’t know what it meant. When he explained it to her, she looked at him gently, so gently…

He cried from joy then, but she never mocked him. She only said it’s a sign that he’s hers. That he will never forget her. She said he’ll always find her, even when he’s old: she will make him young again. He’s welcome here if he wants: she has so many places to show him.

He thanked all the saints for having found her, Saint George and Saint Mary first, but stopped when her little brows furrowed with sorrow. Her eyes, filled with starlight and love, turned so sad that his heart couldn’t bear it, not for one beat.

The sea is far wilder here: he should come and see the ocean as it was at the dawn of time. The ivy is so strong you can use it to climb the trees and see the whole world from atop the tree, the whole land, covered in forest, such as it was before humans came. There’s no smoke or fire or war: just green everywhere, wild rippling streams and honey bees and berries and fish for everyone who ever feels hungry... They can make love day and night, and she’ll teach him all the songs of old. Humans only remember bits and pieces, but she knows how things really happened, she can tell him everything about heroes, kings and queens.

She said she wanted to sleep, and so he took her from the feast and laid her on the grass… She might’ve sung to him, he can’t remember, but it was like an angel’s caress all over him, somber and sweet before the dreams took him, a dream within a dream.

He slept for ages, it seemed, saw so many dreams, each more beautiful than the last until he woke up and saw that the forest had turned grey.

There was no maiden in his lap, no dance and song in the distance, no scent of flowers and dreams and springs to be found. The sun was up in the sky, but it didn’t paint all the colours with gold or fill the streams with light. The forest was half dead to him, just old, thick trees around him, a green-grey forest floor and a shaggy squirrel who chirped and squeaked at him as if it was his fault that the fae folk were gone.

He searched for her, called for her, but she didn’t answer, and how could she have? He didn’t even know her name. He only knew how lovely she felt, how soft her hair was when it fell to cover him like a veil, how adorable her sighs and tiny little gasps were when he filled her, over and over again.

His armour was nowhere to be found, and his sword was somewhere downstream, half covered with leaves and dirt, rusty and beaten by the wind. It was early spring when he came here; the land was still barren and grey, but now, everything was green. Still, it was not the green he wanted. It was not the green that filled his vision entirely, bright, blooming green that pulsed with lush joy. It was just… earth and grass and dirt.

So you see, he has to go back. He has to find her, whatever it takes. She promised he could always come back… She promised…

He cries once more, head bowed and mighty shoulders trembling from the force of his sorrow, and it is no use to tell him that the fae folk are evil. That they’re from the Devil and only want to make good, decent men like them forget. Forget their duty, their laws, their Christ.

It’s no use to tell him that it is not natural, the place he has seen. No doubt he has been somewhere, but it cannot be anything good… No man can survive on flowers and spring water for three months; they cannot frolic with the faeries for days on end without losing their mind and soul.

And König is already lost; he was lost since he was a child, rambling about how he received flowers, sticks and stones as tokens of the faefolk’s gratitude because he brought them food.

He tries to tell the boy who never grew up, the mightiest man in this kingdom, the dreamiest knight there ever was, that he needs to return to the real world. No fae woman would have him as a husband, they are only after his soul. But surely some human lady would take him into her bed, think about it, for God’s sake, please... He has duties here, people who love him, his father would make him a lord if he only put himself together. What kind of knight would abandon his sword, helmet and armour for the sake of an elf who despises the saints...?

But in the morn, König is gone.

His rusty sword is on the floor, the wooden cross taken off the wall. There lies a honeycomb and a flower on his window, a blossom so sweet it cannot be plucked from any field around here. Too exotic and bright, especially when placed atop the rough, grey stones, it looks like it could never wither from how beautifully it blooms.

The peasants now tell a tale of a man that haunts the woods: a huge giant dressed all in green, donning a leaf cloak of some sort and a beard that grows ivy. But they say he is not evil: he only shows himself to hunters who are about to fall a deer, or children who remember the land with little gifts.

Old men say they saw a green man when they were kids and brought bread and milk to the faeries, they swear to this day they saw a man who greeted them with a smile. And when they looked again, there was nothing but a tree where this giant stook, a young oak, sighing with the wind...

#könig x reader #könig x you #mythology au #arthurian au #historical au