#someone's gotta feel the way i do with him holding a sword

[nctsworld]

jaemin holding a sword is something that can actually be so personal

#jaemin #na jaemin #nct #nct dream #nctinc #itsnctsworld #jaemingifs #nctgifs #cee.gifs #someone's gotta feel the way i do with him holding a sword #unhinged. feral. out of control.

[atlabeth]

a rose and her thorns | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader

summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.

a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3

You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.

Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 

“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 

You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 

Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 

“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 

“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 

He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 

“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 

You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 

It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 

“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 

“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 

“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 

“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 

“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 

“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 

You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 

“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 

“That��s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 

“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 

You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 

“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 

You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  

“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”

“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 

“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 

“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 

Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 

“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 

You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 

“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 

“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 

“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 

Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 

“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 

Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 

“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 

“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 

“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”

You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 

“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 

“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 

A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 

It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 

“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 

You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 

“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 

“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 

“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 

“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 

Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 

Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 

“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 

“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 

He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 

You frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 

You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 

“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 

“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 

“Be my Valentine.” 

“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 

“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 

“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 

“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 

Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 

“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 

“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 

“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 

“Really?” he asked. 

“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 

“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 

“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 

You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 

Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 

You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 

“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 

“How’s your schedule?” 

“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 

Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 

“That depends what it is,” you said. 

“It’s a secret,” he said. 

You stared at him. “A secret?” 

He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 

You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”

“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 

You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 

“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 

“You read my mind,” you mused. 

“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 

“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 

-

Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 

You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 

(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 

Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 

“Nice touch.” 

Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 

“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 

He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 

“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 

“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 

“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 

“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 

“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 

“He takes that as a compliment?” 

“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 

“And he protects you?” she asked. 

You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 

“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 

You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 

“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 

You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 

“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 

Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 

Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 

You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 

He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 

“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 

Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 

“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 

“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 

Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 

“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 

“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 

“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 

He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 

You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 

“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 

“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 

His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 

“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 

Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 

He was surely blessed by your mother. 

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 

“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 

“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 

“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 

“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 

“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 

“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 

“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 

#luke when he’s so smooth and then she actually flirts back and he system reboots #posting this and running before i go to sleep bc i can only write in the middle of the night #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

[slaybestieslay946]

Everything About You - Luke Castellan

Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere

also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE

MASTERLIST

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan. 

After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder. 

You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.

You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous. 

But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy. 

“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.

Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…” 

“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”

“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you. 

“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”

Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing. 

“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.

“What about her?”

“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” 

Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you. 

“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.

“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”

“No thanks.” 

“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.” 

Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off. 

“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.” 

Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed. 

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.” 

*

The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon. 

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena. 

Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away. 

The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares. 

He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known. 

“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you. 

You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you. 

“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”

“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.” 

“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.

Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance. 

And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for. 

With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back. 

Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively. 

The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat. 

You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena. 

“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless. 

“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.” 

“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased. 

You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again. 

“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.” 

“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled. 

“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath. 

But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion. 

“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes. 

“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”

You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.” 

And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face. 

Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand. 

*

“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her. 

“Who? Luke?”

“Who else?” 

“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table. 

Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?

“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.” 

“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly. 

“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”

Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need. 

“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.

“You’re impossible.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.” 

“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.” 

“Bitch.”  

*

When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious. 

Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.

Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies. 

It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring. 

You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy. 

“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile. 

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”

“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned. 

“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.

“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head. 

“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her. 

“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked. 

You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new. 

“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. 

Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender. 

“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”

Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa. 

“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate. 

“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly. 

You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms. 

“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”

“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.

You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head. 

“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”

“Uh-”

“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake. 

“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted. 

“Shut up.” 

*

Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’. 

She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went. 

You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.” 

“She could be lying to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods. 

Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff. 

You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction. 

“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff. 

“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else. 

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation. 

Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings. 

“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”

You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust). 

“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods. 

“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response. 

You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.  

Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not. 

That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked. 

“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper. 

You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning. 

He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed. 

Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one. 

You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.

And, as always, he defeated you eventually. 

He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin. 

“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours. 

“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 

He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?” 

Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen. 

And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him. 

“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory. 

*

It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag. 

Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset. 

He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her. 

“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand. 

Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now. 

“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.

“With Chiron. He got claimed.”

“What? By who-?”

“Posiedon.”

The boy’s jaw dropped. 

“You’re joking. No fucking way.”

“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 

“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?” 

Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 

Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks. 

“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!” 

“What, no it’s not-” 

“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?” 

Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before. 

He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening. 

As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts. 

Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table. 

Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care. 

He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him. 

The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food. 

He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?

*

As it turned out, it could be really bad. 

Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate. 

As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly. 

And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered. 

She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull. 

And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses. 

They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake. 

All the things you liked to do. 

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself. 

And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames. 

Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them. 

And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him. 

At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go. 

But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck. 

He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t. 

But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.

Why were you hurt?

*

As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?

You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way. 

He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you? 

 Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend. 

And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart. 

You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth). 

So why were you so devastated?

You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend. 

“Hey!” 

You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you. 

“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy. 

“Why’d you run away from the campfire?” 

“Just needed some air.” 

“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”

“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically. 

He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship. 

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.

“What?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.” 

He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement. 

“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.” 

You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that. 

“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained. 

“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous. 

“So what are you-”

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across. 

“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.

“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.” 

You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity. 

“You’re being serious?” You asked.

“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly. 

You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”

Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you. 

And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body. 

He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again. 

Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him. 

“Wait, so you really mean it?”

“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”

“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body. 

“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 

“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.” 

At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.

“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.” 

You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.” 

“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.

You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that. 

So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.” 

He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego. 

“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.” 

That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.

“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” 

“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.” 

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #x reader #fluff #romance #minor angst #fanfic #writing #luke castellan #jealousy

[kaiijo]

LOVER — RORONOA ZORO

roronoa zoro + i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover content: gn! reader

request a character and prompt for my spotify wrapped event here!

dinners between pirate crews don’t usually occur since your alliances are fragile and you’re all prepared to fight at a moment’s notice. but given the collaboration between the strawhats pirates, the heart pirates, and the kid pirates, it’s safe to say that you’re all a bit more reassured that no one’s about to slice someone’s head off.

you accept another glass of wine from robin as usopp rambles on about how he took out at least thirty marines in your latest high-sea tussle. across the table, zoro snorts and gives you a dead-eyed stare that has you giggling behind your cup. 

you and zoro have been dating for quite some time, having begun only a few weeks after you joined luffy’s crew. neither of you have been inclined to tell the rest of your friends in order to avoid merciless teasing as well as mitigating the damage should your relationship go south. if it does, only the two of you will know about it and stew over it — the least amount of risk, you both agreed.

franky glugs down another stein of beer, laughing jovially, “alright, alright, i’ve got an idea!”

“oh? and what’s that?” robin asks, resting a hand on her chin. 

“let’s play a game. gotta spice things up!”

“hey!” usopp protests. “my stories are super spicy!”

“yeah, right,” kid snickers, “they’re also lies.”

usopp glares and is about to retort but franky beats him to the punch, saying, “truth or dare!”

“really?” deadpans law. “isn’t that for kids?”

“aww, you need to loosen up, cap!” shachi says, nudging law. “i’m down.”

franky says, “i’m sure everyone knows the rules. only thing is if you refuse to answer a truth or do a dare, you drink!”

luffy perks up. “yeah, alright! that sounds like fun! zoro! zoro! truth or dare?”

your boyfriend smirks. “dare. do your worst.” 

“i dare you to eat one of your swords.”

zoro’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “no way!”

“gotta drink then,” you say to him. 

“not a problem.” zoro lifts his stein to his mouth and you watch with appreciation as his bicep flexes and bulges under the tight t-shirt he’s wearing. he easily chugs down his beer, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. 

zoro dares sanji to throw out his collection of dirty magazines that he found under sanji’s bed; sanji asks nami who she would date if she could date any crew member (“ew, none of you.”); nami gets bepo to perform one of uta’s songs and bepo asks franky what’s the best kept secret he’s held from you all. 

franky smirks at law and says, “alright, law, truth or dare.”

“truth.”

“if you could hook up with anyone on the deck, who would it be?”

law frowns at the question and you’re sure he’s going to drink instead but when he says your name, the ship erupts into chaos. nami and ikkaku elbow you, their grins suggestive and encouraging; sanji glares at law; shachi, penguin, and bepo gape; and kid and luffy howl with laughter. you sit there in stunned silence, your face on fire, and you can’t look at law.

you chance a peek at zoro and find that, in all the ensuing chaos, he’s nowhere to be found. you catch the door to the belly of the thousand sunny swinging closed and you immediately stand, heading downstairs. you ignore everyone’s questioning shouts in favor of searching for your boyfriend. 

“zoro?” you call. “zoro!”

you wander the halls for a few minutes, checking the kitchen, the men’s quarter, the gym. you find him quickly, though, inside the energy room. he’s sitting on a crate, expression sour, and you plop down next to him. “you okay?” you ask.

“i’m fine.” 

you study him — his profile, the slope of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw, the way the low light of the room makes his tan skin look golden. you sit quietly with him for a few moments, listening to the engine of the ship run. zoro holds himself rigidly, unnervingly still, but you can feel the irritation rolling off of him, can still see the tension in his body. 

you reach over, brushing your hand against his brow to smooth out the furrow. he looks over at you, still scowling but a little less intensely now. you say, “i’m guessing what law said bothered you.”

he shrugs. you sigh, “it’s just a game, zoro. i’m sure he didn’t even mean it, probably said the first name he thought of.”

zoro grunts derisively, “he definitely meant it. look at you.”

you can’t help the pleased feeling the rushes through you but you don’t let it show as you let your hand fall to his shoulder. “it’s just a game. doesn’t mean anything.”

“yeah,” zoro says. there’s a beat and then he says, “i hate hidin’ this.”

“really?” you can’t hide your surprise. zoro’s the one who initially brought up keeping this from everyone.

“i’m sick of it,” he says. “sick of the fuckin’ love cook always saying shit to you. i hate when guys flirt with you and i can’t fuckin’ do anything because the rest of the damn crew is there and luffy’s makin’ me watch his scarf down twenty plates of roast beef.”

you snicker at the memory, which pulls a small smile at of zoro. you rest your head against his shoulder and he mutters, “hate that the fuckin’ doctor said you.”

“we could tell them, you know. i think it’s okay now.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you say. “i’m, like, super in love with you so you’re stuck with me.”

zoro snorts, “yeah, yeah. love you too.”

“are you ready to endure all the teasing from franky, robin, and nami?”

“for you, yeah.”

you tilt your head up and kiss his jaw. zoro grins, leaning down to catch your mouth with his. 

When you break apart, you ask him, “I would’ve placed money on you going to the gym. Why’d you come here?”

“Oh. I got lost.”

“You two okay?” asks robin as you and zoro resurface. the game seems to have finished and everyone’s back to drinking and chatting, though they all turn to you when they hear robin.

“yeah, we’re good,” you tell her. “we actually have something to tell you.”

“what is it?” nami asks.

“we’re together,” zoro says. “have been for a while.” and then, unexpectedly, zoro’s arm wraps around your hip and pulls you close.

the ship erupts into the chaos again with you and zoro in the middle. somewhere among all the yelling and gasping, law taps your shoulder and apologizes, which you wave off with an easy smile and zoro gives a firm nod.

nami shakes her head. “i can’t believe you two kept this from us!” and then, she turns to you. “zoro? really? you could do so much better.”

you wind yours arms around zoro’s waist, crushing him in a sideways hug. “nope, i don’t think so. he’s all mine!” 

nami gags and robin smiles calmly. “i’ve always known.”

you and zoro stare at her. “what?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #kaiijo's spotify wrapped event #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x you #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro fic #zoro imagine #zoro scenario #zoro fic #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #one piece fic #op x reader #op x you #op zoro

[acaaai-t]

resurface, my love

03. clued

[fem! reader x villain! scaramouche]

cw: angst, blood, scaramouche uses a sword, violence, cursing, death threats, bits of scaras past, attempted murder lol

‘The Fatui’

Scaramouche felt his blood run cold at the sight of the two words. The organization he works for was the last thing he wanted you to get involved in.

He scanned through the rest of the contents, hoping that it was an error in your writings. Scaramouche knew it was futile. You were bound to investigate The Fatui eventually. It was just a matter of time.

His heart only further sank when he saw the folder you’ve created, storing almost everything you knew about the Fatui. Which if presented to a Harbinger like him, even they would claim it was a dangerous lot.

Scaramouche looked high and low, searching for anything that might contribute to your disappearance. He dug through your desk— or whatever remains of your desk, yet nothing, nothing, was found.

Not a single clue as to your disappearance. Scaramouche punched the table in a fit of frustration, adding an extra hole to your already broken desk. He hated feeling like this.

Anxious helplessness tangled with his emotions. He bit down on his lips, the bitter taste of blood blooming in his mouth.

Kazuha seemed to sense Scaramouche’s restlessness. Even Tomo felt unease at Scaramouche’s presence, clambering back onto Kazuha and tucking his small form inside his jacket.

“Scaramouche.”

“What?” even he was startled at his sharp tone. “What…” he tried again, in a calmer voice.

“I was going to suggest asking her coworkers, maybe they would know something.”

Scaramouche frowned. Why didn’t he think of that? They were someone you see on a daily basis, if you were to suddenly disappear, they would be the one to notice first.

He got up, brushing the dust stuck on his knees away. Even though Scaramouche would have liked to organized your room back to how he remembered it to be, he figured it would be best not to temper with evidence.

“Let’s go,” there was no trace of emotion in his voice as he walked passed Kazuha and down the stairs.

…

The streets of Inazuma hadn’t changed one bit from how it used to be. It’s been a while since Scaramouche had walked through the markets filled with merchants selling all sorts of goods.

He missed the days where he would hold you in his embrace so gently, as if you were porcelain that would shatter in nothingness with the wrongest move.

Those days are long gone, he bitterly thought to himself.

A frightful yelp drew his attention away. Scaramouche scowled in annoyance. There was a person standing in his way, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“That’s him!” the old man screeched. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. “It’s him! He’s The Balladeer, those crimes that happened in our town is all because of him!”

By now a crowd had gathered to see the unfolding spectacle. Kazuha squeezed his way through the crowd and grabbed Scaramouche’s arm.

“Gotta go, fast.”

Scaramouche didn’t need to be told twice. He shook off Kazuha’s hand and began running after him, but not without the citizens chasing after them with anything they could use to attack.

He scowled again when he felt something— it felt like a potato, hit the back of his head. Kazuha had somehow found his way up to the rooftops, and was now hopping over the gaps, following Scaramouche closely. It seemed that the townspeople was only targeting Scaramouche.

“Fucking bitches…” he muttered, drawing out his weapon from the scabbard. He skidded to a stop and pointed the sword at the crowd.

The mob of people instantly slowed, stumbling onto one another for support.

“Somebody really wants to fucking die,” he mused, the tip of his sword dug into the pavement below. It was an old fashion way to fight, but Scaramouche had long grown use to its constant company.

A tomato flew his way, and Scaramouche, with ease, sliced the vegetable in half with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not here to cause shit here. If I was, all of you,” he pointed at the crowd, nodding. “Will be dead.”

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice was urgent as his voice trailed down from the roof. “The Tenryo Commission is coming, we need to go.”

“To hell with them,” Scaramouche scoffed. “They’re so easily destroyable. Just a tiny step on them and they crush like a bug. Pathetic seeing them try.”

“You’re— you’re a monster,” a fearful voice cried out. It was the same person who had exposed him as the Balladeer.

“So I’ve heard,” Scaramouche grinned, sheathing his sword.

Those who hadn’t already fled the scene beforehand began to slither away. When the old man had found himself standing alone, he too, wavered and broke, scrambling away as Scaramouche stared him down. His purple eyes glinted with amusement and malice.

“How pitiful,” Scaramouche laughed. “Haven’t even done anything and they all ran.”

What once was the bustling streets of people was now empty, not a single soul in sight. Well, expect for the people dressed in black and purple running towards him.

Scaramouche clicked his tongue in disapproval. He pulled out his gun, aimed, and was about to pull the trigger when Kazuha stopped him, grabbing his arm. The serious look in his eyes told him no. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and set his gun aside.

“Whatever,” he said. “Let’s go before I feel the need to kill them.”

Kazuha dragged him over to an empty alleyway and pressed a finger over his lips, signaling for Scaramouche to stay quiet.

The group of Tenryo Commission members thundered past the two, with nobody noticing the two suspicious shadows crouching in the corner of the alleyway.

When Kazuha had made sure the coast was cleared, he motioned for Scaramouche to follow him. He deadpanned at Kazuha, watching him scale the walls and jump onto the rooftop.

“Hurry,” Kazuha hissed.

There really wasn’t an option for him to choose from.

“Why can’t I just use—” his words were cut off when a gust of wind started swirling under him before lifting him off the ground completely. Scaramouche froze, and didn’t move until he was down on solid ground again.

“There, that’ll get your slow ass moving,” Kazuha said. He threw a smile at Scaramouche and turned around, silently trailing away towards the direction of the Tenryo Commission. Particles of Anemo danced around him with every step he took.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes and scoffed. The lingering power of Anemo set his steps light as he sprinted after Kazuha, the slight breeze picking at his hair. Scaramouche glanced down at the empty streets. The pests the Commission sent out must’ve cleared the streets of everyone. Stalls were left unattended, the fire of some still left roaring. How hazardous, Scaramouche thought to himself. Would be a shame if I were to…

He snickered to himself, eventually deciding against his actions. There’s no need for Scaramouche to cause any more trouble for himself.

The sight of the Tenryo Commission building was getting closer. With the building being one of the fanciest things the city has build, it was hard to miss it, even if one was just passing by. It was by far the grandest thing the council had ever invest in.

Scaramouche leaped down from the rooftops and landed with a silent poof of air. The entrance to the Tenryo Commission beckoned at him. There were guards pacing around the premise, but they be easily taken care of.

The sky darkened, and the tingling feeling of electricity hung low in the air. Scaramouche took his time walking to greet the nuisances, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Meanwhile Kazuha began to investigate the surroundings. He was quite certain that somewhere around this area, he could find a trace of you. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Immediately he picked it up as Scaramouche doing something idiotic, again.

He didn’t tried to interfere with whatever Scaramouche had planned. Not only will Scaramouche beat his ass for interrupting him, but it’ll only add fuel to the flames that is already raging uncontrollably.

Kazuha sniffed the air. There was a familiar scent to the wind. He followed where to the breeze led him, and he ended up in an abandoned part of the town. There, everything was run down. Windows were boarded up, doors were bolted shut.

A glint caught his eyes. It was a broken mirror, with droplets of splattered blood dotting the ground around it. Kazuha looked closer at it.

Ah. So that’s what was familiar scent was.

…

The sparks of electro fizzled away into the air, and with that, the bodies of everyone began to drop, one by one. Weapons clattered to the floor as the numbness overtook their vessels. All expect for one.

Scaramouche chucked, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Oh relax General, they aren’t dead. I’m not that cruel.”

“Don’t move,” Kujou Sara’s voice was stern, unwavering as she stood a distance away from Scaramouche, her bow raised and aimed. Even with the room being near pitch black, she could still see as clear as day.

Scaramouche grinned. “And what are you going to do? Kill me? You know well enough that even if you tried, you’ll still lose.”

The electro vision strung up by her hips glowed fiercely, a sign that she was beyond pissed. Scaramouche’s grin only grew wider. He took a step forward, holding both hands up in the air mockingly.

“Shoot me,” he said. “Do it.”

Sara let an arrow loose at Scaramouche’s words. Infused with the cackling energy of electro, the power alone was enough to knock out four grown adults. The arrow zipped through the air, it’s tip aimed dead at his head.

A crack of Electro came slashing down, effectively slicing the arrow in half. Sara kissed her teeth and lowered her bow. As expected.

“Good try, general. Better luck next time,” Scaramouche laughed. “Now, I believe I came here asking questions, not a fight.”

“What could the Fatui want with us,” she spat out the word Fatui with distaste, hatred clearly rooted in her tone.

“Oh no, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Scaramouche plopped down on the office chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I didn’t come here on the behalf of the Fatui. Do you by any chance…”

He folded his hands together and leaned forward on the messy desk. “…know where [name] is?”

The main entrance banged loudly, it’s hinges trembling with every slam. Muffled voices could be heard shouting from the outside. Sara narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Oh, General, don’t be so tense. I have no intentions of hurting her.”

“Who am I to trust you?” The lock keeping the door jammed cracked.

“I’ll offer you a deal, how’s that? “ he smiled. “You tell me where she is, and I’ll tell you where that girl of yours you’ve been looking for is.”

Sara’s breath hitched.

“Wonderful deal, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve been looking for her for almost what? Three years?.”

Silence.

“I don’t have all day, General. Pick. Lest you want me to go find it myself.”

Pick..

The lock couldn’t support the battering beating its been receiving, and it finally succumbed under the pressure, the doors crashing down with a loud resonating boom.

Sunlight filtered into the dark empty room.

Sara sat there, not a single word uttered. Her eyes bored holes at where Scaramouche had stood. Whatever remains of her bow laid by her feet, and in her her hands, held a crumpled up sheet of paper.

“General? Are you alright? Do you need to seek a medic?”

Gone with the breeze was he, leaving only papers slowly descending to the ground. The pattering footsteps of her underlings echoed in her head as they began scouting the area.

“… In the left drawer, the third one. It holds her resignation letter there.”

Scaramouche raised a brow. “Resignation letter?”

“It was left on my desk yesterday. No sign of [name] when I went to look.”

“Oh?”

“You can go check her office if you don’t believe me, last door to the right of the hall,” Sara said through gritted teeth. She had given away more information that she had intended to.

“Did the cameras capture footage of her handing in letter?”

“Someone sabotaged the security system a few nights ago, it’s still in the process of getting fixed.”

“I see,” Scaramouche mused, tapping one finger against his cheeks. “Mind sharing the footage of the night when it got sabotaged?”

“Now that I cannot give away—”

In a flash, Scaramouche was out of his seat and had Sara by her throat before she could even finish her sentence. “It wasn’t a question,” he hissed, his nails digging into her skin, deep enough to draw blood. “We can either do this the easy way, or we can go the hard way.”

Sara had known about the evil doings of the man holding her in a chokehold, the stories whispered held enough warning to steer clear, but to experience it herself was terrifying. Black spots danced in her vision as her air was abruptly cut off.

“I— I can get it for you,” Sara gasped.

Releasing the women from his grasp, he stepped back and crossed his arms. Sara rubbed at her neck and winced, trying to brush away the pain prickling at her tiny wounds as she clicked away on the computer.

“Here,” she said, handing Scaramouche a USB drive.

“Thank you, wasn’t that hard at all, was it?” he flashed Sara a cold smile before disappearing all together with a swift swoosh of the wind, leaving no traces of there ever being a second person in the room.

She was left alone.

“A resignation letter,” he said, waving the crinkled piece of paper in the air. “And footage of the night the cameras was messed with.”

Kazuha raised a quizzical brow. “A resignation letter?” he echoed. “That’s out of character for her. Oh yeah here, I found this while searching the area.”

He handed Scaramouche the broken mirror. “It was near the abandoned part of town— quite close to where I saw your lover get taken.”

Quite close to where you disappeared.

Scaramouche shoved the USB drive and the letter into his pockets. “Take me there,” he demanded.

Borrowing in the resonance of Anemo from his friend, Scaramouche surged forward just a few steps behind Kazuha. The wind played at his hair, tossing it to the left then to the right. In less than a minute, Scaramouche arrived at the scene.

“Here?”

He scanned the environment. This area does seem like the type of place where people tend to do the unspeakable.

“Here,” Kazuha led him to where he found the item. “Look, that’s the smell of blood.”

Scaramouche got on one knee and took a closer look. With all his years of experience, he should know better than anyone what a scene of crime looks like— and this place, even without there being actual evidence of what took place, aroused heavy suspicion.

What made it worse was that Scaramouche realized that this part of town is what one would call a ‘ghost town’, a place isolated from everyone else, even when it was so close to the lively city. There were no cameras, nothing to record down what had transpired the night you disappeared other than the small droplets of what Kazuha claimed to be blood. Your blood.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche didn’t trust Kazuha’s senses, he had placed full trust in his keen nose. It was one of the prominent reasons why Scaramouche had spared his life that day and allowed Kazuha to work for him. But the thought of you bleeding— wounded, brought up an uncomfortable sensation.

He checked both the front and the back of the mirror, hoping it would show him something he can’t see with his naked eye. Nothing.

“Let’s go back,” he had tried to mask his bitter disappointment, but it was evident. There was no use trying to hide it.

The journey back to your house was swift, thankfully having nobody starting up any more trouble than they were worth for the two. With the sky being dipped in a golden red hue as the sun slowly sets, Scaramouche pushed open the door and gestured for Kazuha to step in.

The house was cold despite Scaramouche having the heater turned on all the way. Kazuha sat on your couch with his cat curled up on his lap, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he read through the resignation letter you left.

“Kazuha.”

“Hm?”

“Did you bring your laptop with you?”

“…no.”

Scaramouche muttered a curse under his breath. “Well I can’t find a laptop in the house. The only one she had probably got destroyed.”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I would carry such things with me at all times,” Kazuha chuckled lightheartedly. “I can ask for Xiao to bring it over.”

“How fast can he get it here?”

“Depends on his mood, really. But all in all, he’s pretty fast.”

“Have him bring it over. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Mmhm.”

Scaramouche trailed back into whatever remains of your bedroom and sat down on the broken bed frame. There, his thoughts slowly began consuming him.

How did he manage to mess up? He was gone for only two days. Two days, and something happened to you.

Scaramouche was a careful man, he knew to steer clear of you as to not place harm over your head. If the past were to ever come to light, it’ll only further damage both of your reputations. He bit down on his tongue. Having to shroud the past wasn’t too difficult, Scaramouche had easily blocked it all out. But to bring it back up again hurts.

He buried his face into the palms of his hands. It hurts.

Meow.

Scaramouche looked up, meeting eye to eye with Kazuha’s cat. The tiny feline jumped up onto his lap and yawned, his sharp fangs peeking out. His claws dug into Scaramouche’s skin as he began kneading.

For the past 24 hours he’d been looking nonstop, searching nonstop— fighting nonstop. He hadn’t allowed himself to rest, no. His muscles ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain that had rooted itself deep within his heart. It hurts.

The night he chose to left was ultimately the hardest decisions he had to made. It broke him, but he knows that it’ll hurt you even more than it’ll ever hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Sorry does nothing— nothing.

He wanted to stay. Stay in your tiny bedroom, cuddling with each other as the night gradually fades away into a new dawn. Sometimes he wonders, would things have gone differently if he had stayed?

Idiot, of course it could’ve gone differently.

He should’ve stayed. God, he hated himself for the decisions he had chose. He missed you.

“Scara,” your voice echoed in his head. “Scaramouche.”

He’s spiraling.

He wanted you to leave, to disappear from his mind— but you lingered there, bounded to be a ghost that roamed in his nightmares. No, Scaramouche cannot forget you even if he tried.

Even if his memories were wiped clean, he knows that somehow— just somehow he’ll still recognize you in the sea of strange faces.

It was unbearable.

“Scara…”

Love. Love hurts.

“… Scaramouche.”

His eyes snapped open. “What?”

Kazuha gave him a worried glance. “Xiao’s he— good god are you alright? You look paler than usual.”

He frowned. “I’m… okay. Just tell him to on leave the computer on the kitchen table.”

“If you say so,” Kazuha spared another worrying look at the violet hair man before disappearing downstairs, his cat trotting right next to him.

Scaramouche ran his hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. He can’t stand this anymore, now he’s more determined than ever to find you and tell you all the words he had meant to say before he left.

The USB sitting in his pocket jabbed at him, and his hands closed around it. First things first, examine the clues.

Scaramouche got up and hurried down the stairs, right into the kitchen, where the laptop Xiao had brought was placed on the island. Kazuha was nowhere to be found, but he was sure that the wanderer wouldn’t be gone for too long. After all, Kazuha does play an important role in his hunt for you.

The laptop brightened to life, and Scaramouche hastily plugged the USB into the port. It took a while for the technology to process the information dump, but eventually a file popped up on screen labeled ‘11/16’.

It was the night you disappeared.

His eyes narrowed as the video footage played on. For such a grand company, the quality of both the camera and the video was absolute shit. The time played all the way until near midnight, and that’s when Scaramouche noticed something amiss. He paused the video and took a closer look.

There was no mistaking it. The black shadow definitely wasn’t just the camera acting up— it was someone. Scaramouche felt his heart skip a beat as he rewinded all the way to the footage of two nights ago. He needed to confirm his arousing suspicion.

Pause.

Right there, at 4:21pm. Yep, that was someone, sneaking around the perimeter of the building, looking through windows. Scaramouche fast forward the video by just a little bit, and the camera screen switched, giving him a perfect view of the suspect.

Dressed in all black— not very conspicuous in board daylight, yet nobody seemed to noticed them. He watched as the stranger unlatched one of the many windows and slipped in, completely oblivious as to the fact that they were being recorded.

Scaramouche didn’t need to have footage to prove that the window the suspect had entered through was your office, it was obvious.

The video sped up once again, and the figure appeared back in the camera frame twenty minutes later, looking to be in a rush. In their arms were a duffel bag containing something— if Scaramouche had to guess, it could’ve been case files on something.

But what would they need with the files?

“Reviewing the camera footage already?”

Kazuha’s sudden reappearance made Scaramouche jump.

“Ah, apologies,” he said. “How’s it going? Got any clues yet?”

“Look,” Scaramouche said, pausing the video and pointing to the black figure. “That happened Tuesday morning. Just three days before she… disappeared. And then the next day, the footage crashed.”

Kazuha frowned. “Isn’t that… her office?”

“That is,” he nodded. “Now I don’t know who that person is, or why they barged into her office, but I know that that has something to do with her disappearance.”

Kazuha zoomed in on the stranger's face. While there were a couple of pixels of their face, it definitely wasn’t enough to do a full face analysis on their identity. The only prominent feature was the tiny tussle of blue hair peeking out from the hood. He paused. “What about their letter? Have you found anything odd about it?”

“Haven't checked yet, but I’ve read through it multiple times. The contents just don’t make sense.”

“Hold on, I’ll go find a recent file of hers. We can compare the handwriting. It is a handwritten letter, right?”

Scaramouche nodded, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Tell Xiao I said thanks.”

Tuesday afternoon, someone broke into your office— what they took was unknown. Their identity cannot be confirmed, for they were covered completely, head to toe in black. That was all he had.

He was at a dead end.

Scaramouche groaned in frustration, slamming the computer shut.

It doesn’t make sense.

Why? Why were they unable to see what went wrong? They’d been with you for years— they should know.

Nothing made sense.

What was the motive behind your kidnapping? The criminals you’ve caught is still locked behind bars, cut off from the outside world, meaning they couldn’t have been the one to sought after you. Could it have been the Fatui?

No… Scaramouche would know if it were to happen under the very organization he works for.

And why hasn’t anyone noticed? Even if you were to resign from your position as a detective, you would still be widely recognized if you were out on the streets walking.

According to what Kazuha had gathered over the past months, you were seen outside taking a stroll atleast once a day, even if you were down with the flu. The locals had long adopted your habit— yet nobody, nobody noticed. Not a single person called out on the strange anomaly of your disappearance.

Fucking dammit.

“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s voice brought him back to the present. “So I did an analysis on both, and I thought maybe you’d want to look at it yourself.”

He handed Scaramouche two pieces of paper. One was the resignation letter, the other was a document written on about the Doctor. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Both handwritings matched near identical to each other.

Scribbled along the margins of both papers was Kazuha’s flawless penmanship.

“I’ve written down the differences I noticed, they may not seem very obvious, but it’s there,” Kazuha said.

Scaramouche scanned through the notes, and his frown deepened as he read through it.

“See what I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s really weird.”

‘Hope this finds you well and alive.’

‘Decided to resign due to personal issues…’

Well and alive? That phrase alone was suspicious enough, almost as if you were expecting death to deliver its final blow towards her. Why would you wish death upon someone who had been looking out for you during the years he cannot?

He reopened the computer and clicked on the footage, then brought out the broken mirror he had been given and placed it next to the computer. Kazuha followed by setting down the two documents side by side next to mirror.

Scaramouche took a hard look at the items placed on the table. While everything seemed to be connected in some way, there was just something missing. A good portion of it was still yet to be discovered, and if Scaramouche were to find it— it’ll connect the dots.

“Let’s get this straight, two nights ago someone broke into her office and took something away. We aren’t sure what it was, but I can always go investigate. The only feature we could find on the said suspect was the tiny pixels of blue hair, and that we can’t even confirm if it’s real or just a trick of the camera,” Kazuha said.

“And then on the night your beloved was taken, I didn’t see anything sort of suspicious, other than a couple of buildings exploding. Which leads us to the mirror I found in where I presumed she was taken,” he pointed to the broken mirror. “And the strangely phrased resignation letter she left.”

“The thing is,” Scaramouche spoke up. “Right after that we reach a dead end. Even if you do go to her office, it won’t be guaranteed that you’d find what’s missing. We’re still not looking hard enough, there’s a large chunk that we’re still missing.”

“Scaramouche.”

A soft thump follow by the light pattering of paws against the hardwood floor was heard as Tomo approached the two men. He dropped something on the floor and meowed as he stared into Scaramouche’s eyes.

Kazuha picked up the item that was dropped, and Scaramouche felt his heart drop and blood run cold once again. The look the two shared said more than enough.

He had hoped it wasn’t, but once the evidence was brought into light— there was really no arguing when the truth was placed right in front of him. Something inside of him snapped, and suddenly a turmoil of emotions raged within his mind. There was only one thought consuming his mind as he ran out the house.

He was going to kill that bitch.

previous || series m.list || next

notes—

— I HAVE SEASON ONE AND TWO PLANNED OUT FINALLY after two months of not updating this series 💀

synopsis —

— you, the hero, disappears overnight, and the only person who looks is the villain. Not your friends, not your family, not the news reporter or any of the people who claimed to love you. Just him, Scaramouche, the very same person who claimed to hate you.

taglist — [CLOSED]

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© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

#[💫] acaaai-t #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #resurface my love #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche x reader #scara x y/n #genshin #genshin impact series #genshin impact #genshin scara #scara x you #genshin scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin series #genshin x you #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader

[rottenstrawberrymilk]

rhys strongfork x reader

9.1k words

        “God, you’re the best,” Rhys says with a sigh.         “Hey, you say the word and I’m here bossman. Anything you want or need, I’m on it. It’s the least I can do.”         Zer0 eyes you from across the office. Or at least, you think he is. You’re still adjusting to the faceless mysterious thing that hangs around Rhys all the time. He probably still suspects you. Were you being suspicious? You suppose you’d gone out of your way to be especially good for Rhys and earn his favor. After all, if you had betrayed Maliwan to defect over to Atlas, what was to stop you from betraying Atlas as well?         You didn’t exactly start here with a shiny clean record. But Rhys had been so kind and merciful, taking you in, giving you a decent position like this. You just want to express your gratitude anyway you can. Chances are his decision to let you into Atlas had saved your life. Thus, you figure you owe him every breath in your body. And a bagel. Anytime he wanted it. You don't think you'll ever repay your debt to him, and you don't think you want to either.

        You think you could be happy here, at Atlas. And that's not something you imagined thinking about any one of the soul sucking greedy corporations that had their eyes on the planets in this system. 

        As you turn to walk out the room, attending to some other business you'd been assigned, Rhys's eyes follow you. Zer0's head tilts ever so slightly towards Rhys. He heaves a bit of a sigh, regarding the bagel on his desk. And you remembered the cream cheese he likes. He wonders if he's about to make a mistake. I mean, how could someone as nice as you possibly stab him in the back? He looks back up at Zer0, and the assassin just gives a curt nod.

        Just do it. Gotta find out one way or another.

        Rhys nods as well, before sinking down low into his chair and burying his face in his hands. If this is the right, smart thing to do, why does he feel so goddamn guilty about it? He finds himself wishing he was more like the other CEOs. Ruthless, calculating, business first, success first, able to actually watch their ass. Willing to do whatever it takes to hold onto that seat of power. But then he finds himself wondering how those men live like that, on the edge, suspicious of everyone, so sure death was seeking them out at every turn. It had to be miserable, right? 

        Meanwhile, you were making your way down a hall. Rhys said he'd wanted you to go check on the new maintenance guys and see how they were adjusting, and then report back to him personally. You don't mind having to run around headquarters all day, it's good exercise and you feel productive. It doesn't feel like he's just giving you busy work either, he's just having you act socially in his stead. The guy can't be in seven places at once, although you bet he wishes he was. He's never been a micromanaging type, but he is a bit of a chatterbox. 

        Suddenly, a firm hand grabs your shoulder, shoving you up against a wall. Momentarily, you're winded, gasping out, as the razor sharp tip of a sword presses lightly to the center of your throat. Zer0 suddenly appears out of thing air. Confusion is obvious on your face, but it's not enough to fool him so easily. Anyone, traitor or not, would have been shocked getting caught off guard like that. 

        "Talk," Zer0 commands. If it's not elaborate haikus, it's equally cryptic one word sentences. 

        You shift a little under his grip and his fingers tighten, to the point where you know he'll leave bruises. You wonder what the fuck is going on. Best communicate that. 

        "I don't...what the hell are you doing?" you ask, sounding less outraged and more afraid. Good, Zer0 can use that. It should make this all easier. 

        "You are still very new./ Where do your loyalties lie?/ Tell me the real truth." 

        Your brows furrow. "My...my loyalties?" you repeat back, a bit dumbfounded.

         Are you being interrogated right now? Was Zer0 that suspicious of you this entire time? You couldn't get a read on the guy no matter what, even back when you'd first joined Atlas (at Rhys's own suggestion). You know it's his job to protect the CEO, and you figured he'd do it whether he was contracted or not, but what threat could you possibly pose to Rhys? You feel a bit stupid for not immediately jumping to your history--even if it had been months ago and the majority of the conflict and siege had settled, that didn't change how long you had worked for Maliwan before coming to Promothea. It didn't matter if it had been against your will to be sent here to fight, to die, for Maliwan's cause. All that mattered was that you had been initially taking orders from Katagawa Jr. 

        You take in a shaky breath, heart still racing in your chest. The sword point remains steady. It pricks at your skin, already warning you for taking such a long, rather suspicious silence. The visor hiding his face is blank. No stupid little emoticons, no text, just black. You can see your own terrified reflection in it. You don't know what to do other than to tell the truth, just like Zer0 had demanded. But what if he still didn't believe you? Doesn't matter. You come to realize you don't have a choice. You force your voice to be steady. 

        “I’m loyal to Rhys,” you say, jaw set. “I owe that man my life.”         Rhys, not Atlas, Zer0 notes. He’s not sure how to feel about that yet. Slowly, he leans a little ways back. He steps away, giving you some personal space back. And the sword withdraws from your throat. Silently, Zer0 sheathes the sword over his shoulder, and the blade fades away into nothing. You know it will only be a few moments before he does the same. He lifts a gloved hand, holding up a stern finger.          “Please do not forget/ I am always watching you/ do not fuck this up.”         You know you could have not replied at all. You could have just looked away and let this nightmare of an interaction be over. But heart pounding in your chest, you can't help but give a response. “I won’t. Second chances don’t come around often.”

        Zer0 regards you for a moment longer. Then, he vanishes. Creepy...you'll never get used to that. You take a moment to stand there, unsure if he's gone or if he's going to continue tailing you for longer, just to double check. All he'd be affirming is that you were telling the truth if he did that. You think about going straight back to Rhys's office and telling him what had just happened. But you remember he'd given you an assignment to do. As shitty as all this was...the least you can do is get that done before returning. Rhys should know Zer0 is suspicious of you. But he'd also asked about the new maintenance staff's adjustment, and that's important too when it comes to rebuilding and cleaning up some of the HQ.

        A sigh leaves you before you resume the direction you'd initially been headed in. Lucky for you, the new maintenance guys seem pretty capable. It's not that you didn't trust Rhys's judgement in hiring (after all, he'd brought you on as some extra help), it's just...things had been hectic and desperate, and his priority had been to replace the former staff which had mysteriously vanished. Rhys said he knew nothing about it, and then mentioned there were no bodies, before promptly cutting off his ECHO device and never speaking of it again. None of your business, and frankly you're not nearly nosy enough to care. 

        You tried not to seem like your mind was elsewhere, still shaken from the encounter with Zer0. Instead, you politely smile and nod along to whatever the new guys are saying.         

        "Uh huh...well, good to see you guys are so eager to get started. The CEO decided to have some of the Crimson Lance join you guys as bodyguards. They'll make sure you're safe while you sweep headquarters, uh, no pun intended. Not all of Maliwan has been booted out yet." 

        They nod, murmuring their thanks. 

        "Great, the boys should be up here any minute. Feel free to mingle. Rhys wants the overall sweep done by about six. You can come back here and report the damages and body count to me and I'll pass it up to the big guy upstairs." 

        Rhys had always instructed you not to be too formal. He said it "ruined the vibe" he was going for. It was odd, you've never worked for a company that was purposefully attempt to maintain such a lax attitude. Especially right after an attempted invasion, takeover, and then additional total destruction attempt by Katagawa Jr. But if he said he wanted it done a certain way, you were going to make sure you adhered to his preference. The little voice in your head once again reminds you with a guilty twinge that it was the least you could do. It still felt weird to drop all the "sir"'s and formalities after years of having to do it at Maliwan. 

        You wonder if a company with that kind of hierarchy could last long against the other ruthless giants. With Hyperion gone, Dahl still getting back up on their feet from when Hyperion had initially come to power, there's once again a central power void waiting to be filled. Could Atlas actually do it? If Rhys could genuinely return Atlas to it's former glory, that would be incredible. You don't know if it's possible for mega corporations that primarily compete in the gun market to ever reach peaceful agreements, but you certainly believe Rhys might be able to pave the way to that new frontier. 

        Then again...he has his own shortcomings. 

        You hadn't known him long, at least, not before he became a CEO. But you're aware of his weaknesses. One of them, maybe being that his pet assassin slash bodyguard seemed to be allowed to free roam and terrorize whoever he wanted on a whim of suspicion...okay that one might have been a little personal. But, you've got the report and gave your little speech to the new maintenance team, so now you have time to go and talk to Rhys. You can communicate those feelings and hurt instead of letting it rot you inside, like you would have done at Maliwan. You still can't help but feel bitter, almost automatically in a bad mood whenever you're reminded of working for them...

        Goddamn Zer0.

        Of course it's not fair for you to be allowed to forget. Not with all the destruction and innocent lives Maliwan had cost Promethea. And you'd been on the payroll. You try not to fall too far into your own head as you turn away and head back to the elevator that ascended to Rhys's office. It's an uncomfortable wait, and an even worse silence. Usually, you stop to gaze a little at the massive aquariums lining the way to the CEO's office. But this is urgent. 

        Rhys looks up from his desk at you and smiles, although you feel like there's something...wrong. 

        You practice some restraint, and decide to give him that report on maintenance first. 

        "So yeah..."

        Rhys pushes his chin into his hand. "I hope they don't find too much damage. I gotta be even more on top of it with the finances around here, what with how I'm gonna have to rebuild the city too. Or bodies," he gives a nervous laugh, "hope they find even less of those. Identifying, funerals, cremations, burials, finding the families, it gets pricey y'know?" 

        Right...that was the other thing about him. While he's not nearly as bad as the other CEO's you've heard about in your lifetime (you heard Handsome Jack was a total monster), Rhys can be a little callous at times. CEOs generally seem to have a disconnect between themselves and everyone else lower in the company. A special kind of corporate breed of lacking empathy that can be a bit disturbing. His isn't especially awful but...you worry. You hope he can keep himself on the right path. 

        At your lack of response, he shifts a little in his chair. "You...uh...are you alright, (Y/N)?" he suddenly asks. 

        Your eyes won't meet his. "Can we talk? Privately."

        Rhys wonders if it's the smartest idea to grant that request. He knows Zer0 is in the office right now, being weird and invisible as usual. They're a great bodyguard, but Rhys sometimes feels a little nutty talking to thin air whenever Zer0 doesn't feel like uncloaking. The presence is usually comforting but...

        You won't even look at him now? Uh oh...

        Fix this, Rhys, fix this, come on... he tells himself.

        "Yeah, totally, of course." He turns in his chair, to a corner he hopes Zer0 is in.

        Sometimes they like to hang out near the bookshelves or the couch. He clears his throat. Zer0 promptly reappears on the opposite side of the room, prompting Rhys to embarrassedly swivel his chair the other way. Had the bodyguard been trying to make him look stupid in front of you on purpose? Anxiously, he goes to check your face for a reaction, to see you judging him, or amused, or...or still staring at a wall, away from him. His heart sinks a little. 

        "Just for a minute or two, Zer0," Rhys calls after him, having a feeling he won't be too far away.

        "Later, bro," Zer0 replies, walking out the office, still keeping himself visible. 

         If the assassin wanted to he could easily cloak and sneak back in. Which Rhys sincerely hopes they don't. Even though Zer0 had reported back that you'd only reaffirmed your loyalties to him, Rhys knew they still didn't trust you completely. Which is...fair. Anyone can say anything if they're under enough pressure. And he's seen Zer0 work enough to know how terrifying the guy can be. As well as unpredictable. As much as Rhys trusts them, it always seems like they're thinking eight steps ahead...freaky. 

        Rhys returns his attention on you.

        You give a soft exhale, like you're preparing to say something you don't want to. "Look, while I was going to get that update on maintenance, uhm..." Zer0 had attacked you, basically, was the truth. But you decide to play things safe. Maybe it's just a misunderstanding. God knows, Zer0 does his job incredibly well, and this is probably just part of it--you don't want Rhys suddenly not trusting his own bodyguard.         

        "I...ran into Zer0. Well, they ran into me, more like it, but, whatever. And he-"

        Rhys interrupts you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I asked Zer0 to do that. I just had to be sure-“         Your eyes finally meet his. The crestfallen look descending on your face is heart wrenching. Like he'd just kicked a puppy in front of you or something. Rhys wonders if it wasn’t the right choice after all to ask Zer0 to check your loyalties, to make absolutely sure you could be trusted. But lord knows he wasn’t brave enough to do it, not scary enough to get the truth out of you like the assassin could. He also couldn’t bare the thought of pointing a weapon at you, whether you were a traitor or not. Ironic, considering he's in control of one of many powerful gun manufacturers.          He just…he knows he has to be careful from now and into the future. The bigger Atlas gets, the more enemies he makes. The Maliwan invasion had been a very quick, brutal lesson in that.          You try to hide the disappointment on your face. Your voice comes shaky. 

        He knew. 

        You suddenly feel very stupid for coming in here in the first place. You shouldn't have said anything at all. You should have just kept it to yourself and moved on with your life, with your job, with your career at Atlas. It would have ensured this awkward, sad, stupid conversation never had to take place.          “Oh that’s…that’s okay I guess. I just thought…I mean you always told me the past is the past and it’s all behind me. That you didn’t care and that it was all behind me.” The hurt in your voice makes this so much harder for him.         “I know, I know what I said,” Rhys said, looking stressed. He runs a hand through his hair. There's some gray streaks already beginning to form. Embarrassing considering he's only in his thirties. “But…I needed to be sure.”

        Even though he knows this was all for his own safety, and this whole test was initially Zer0’s idea to begin with, Rhys feels bad. Like, really bad. He still gave his bodyguard the go ahead. He scratches at his mustache momentarily, trying to think of how he could…         “I understand, Rhys” you say a bit softly. He notices that there's tears beginning to form in your eyes. He starts to talk again, but you cut him off. “No, I really get it. I mean…only a few months ago I was basically under Katagawa Jr.'s thumb. You don’t have any reason to really trust me. Not yet, anyways.”         Bitter but true. And an insecurity that’d always clouded your mind at night before you fell asleep. Sometimes you still had nightmares of bullets flying past your head and people screaming and dying around you. But you’d always wake up, knowing things were different now. That instead of racing to the training field, you just had to race downtown to grab some coffee or froyo or a bagel or whatever the hell Rhys wanted that day before work. That Rhys was different, that Atlas was different from Maliwan. He’d promised you that you’d never have to hold a gun again— once again, ironic as Atlas is still another soulless weapons manufacturer. But Rhys had promised and that’d been good enough for you.

        Rhys looked even more uncomfortable now. He wears his emotions on his face. Something your former, much more homicidal boss never did. You don't consider that one of his weaknesses at all.          “But I do trust you,” he insists, “I mean— I sent Zer0, but it’s -it’s, God, it’s complicated. I trust you so much I had to just see if that trust was for real, does that make sense?”         It really doesn’t. If he trusted you there’d be no reason to suspect you in the first place, in your opinion. It hurts. He sees that little heartbroken look on your face still isn’t gone, even after his super smooth save. The tears are still gathering in your eyes and you still won't look at him. If he can't fix this, it's gonna drive him up the wall for the rest of the day.          “Y’know what? Dinner.” He claps his hands together, grabbing your attention with another awkward laugh and you swear you see a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, let’s do dinner. On me. Food fixes everything, right? Best way to say 'sorry' ever.”

        Could food fix a complete lapse in trust caused by his paranoia? He looks so earnestly at you, fingers still clasped together, almost like he’s begging you to say yes. Begging you to move past this with him and forgive this slight. Why not say yes? It couldn’t hurt. And it seems like it’s gonna make him feel way better than you would.         Under any other circumstance you’d shoot this down. It's unprofessional to go out with your boss. It's wrong. It's not right to let him pay for your food. It's not rational to...to...         The look on his face…he really does seem apologetic. You remind yourself that a boss like him is a rare thing during these times. You remind yourself that if there’s no Atlas, you’d be forced back to Maliwan or forced to try and make it on your own. Neither of those are options. You must have been thinking for a long time, because Rhys clears his throat and stands up from his desk. He approaches you, like he wants you to believe he trusts you not to snap and murder him. Because, hey, you used to be Maliwan, and that's all that you'd ever be to him-

        “It’ll be super cas, no pressure at all,” he says, with another nervous breath of air, interrupting your rather horrible train of thought. “Uh, like a ‘yayy you’re not here to kill me’ thing.”         “Alright. That sounds nice.” You smile at him but he feels like it’s not one of your real ones. It doesn't match the look in your glassy eyes. Was he shoving this onto you too fast?

        “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just wanna make it up to you-“         “Rhys,” you say, and he stops. “It’s okay. We’re cool.”         You hold out a hand for him to take, in spite of your racing thoughts. He does, giving you a firm squeeze. His hands are always so warm. He lets go after a brief moment. He takes a moment to fix his tie, which only skews it worse. You have to sometimes wonder how a guy like him holds a position like this one, much less built the formerly dead company up all on his own.         “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” He says, and you nod.

        “But the maintenance team," you start and Rhys puts his head in his hand.

        "Right...right. Uh...seveenn?" he tries again.

        To his relief, you give another validating nod that didn't make him feel as stupid and dumb as he felt initially. "Can I ask where we’re going?”         “Nuh uh. Ruins my surprise. You gotta tr-“ He pauses. “Uh you’ll like it, okay?”         You give a light, exasperated shake of your head. Rhys breathes a sigh of relief at the bit of playfulness and the tiniest smile on your face. Seven gives you enough time to get that report to Rhys and go home for a few minutes. But until then, you have a slew of other shit to busy yourself with that Zer0's approach had totally distracted you from. The least you could do was throw yourself into your work for the rest of the day. There are some times where you spend most of your day at Rhys's side, waiting for a command or for him to need something. There are other days where you're out and about, in the halls of headquarters, or the streets of the city. Regrettably, you're relieved that it's the ladder today. 

        “Don’t worry, I do trust you,” you call out half heartedly as you leave.         Rhys wants to take one of the monitors off a nearby desk and smash it against his head. That couldn’t have gone any worse. ‘You gotta trust me’ seriously? After what he just did to you?         A bit of a groan escapes him and he goes back to his desk to sit down. Hopefully he can wrestle a reservation out of the place he had in mind. He figures you’re just telling him what he wants to hear— you’re a good employee like that. But before this all, you probably would have told him the truth. That dinner won’t fix him betraying you like this. That it’s not gonna magically put down the metaphorical middle finger he’d just put up to the months of time his relationship with you was built around. To the hours you spent basically at his beck and call. Doing whatever he told you to without a question or second thought. You'd always given off the impression you thought he was brilliant. And that made Rhys feel good. He's worried you won't ever look at him again like that. 

        He drums his fingers on the desk, resting his chin and mouth in his hand again as he shuts his eyes. 

        On the bright side…he’d finally had the balls to ask you out. Part of the reason he’d wanted Zer0 to interrogate you was because he’d really wanted to try going out with you. Obviously, he hadn't exactly jumped to let Zer0 know that. He still had a personal life! He was allowed to do that! CEO or not! He opens his eyes and reaches to the photo of Sasha on his desk, suddenly feeling guilty, and goes to place it face down. But he hesitates.         It’s…kinda lonely at the top. He feels it tenfold lately. And… well your smile had started kinda being the highlight of his day. Now he fears he's never gonna see the real thing ever again.          She’d want him happy right? He pulls his hand away from the picture. There’s nothing wrong with this. There’s nothing wrong with a guy like him wanting a girl like you. Of course there’s that pesky power imbalance, the fact that he’s your boss could make this messy… But other CEOs just do whatever they want, right? They don’t think about any of this shit. Although he doesn’t like thinking back to his time at Hyperion, even he remembers Handsome Jack’s reputation for fucking just about anything that moved. Whatever he wanted, he got. That was why Rhys had begun to admire him in the first place.

        Rhys rubs at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be like Jack though. Or Katagawa with that stupid ‘pleasure yacht’, or any other nutcase CEO. He doesn't want to just...just bend you over the desk and fuck you, like you're just something to use, he swears to himself it's not like that at all! It's more than lust that tortures him.          He wants you to like him. So desperately bad. He knows you like having him as a boss, that you like his stupid little jokes, that you like his mustache (he'd asked you once to be sure), that you enjoyed his company. At least once you did. But he wants you to like like him. The same way he feels about you. But it’d have been dangerous to let you in so fast without knowing for sure that you weren’t Maliwan’s last hurrah in an attempt to end his life. That you weren’t some super secret cute seductress spy attempting to exact revenge for Katagawa Jr. He wondered if it’d be rude to ask what your relationship with the other CEO had been. After how well everything else had gone? Yeah, probably.

        You'd been pretty low ranked in Maliwan, from what little you'd told him of it. He doubts that you'd ever received the high honor of boarding that stupid fucking pleasure yacht. He felt himself get a little angry still, at the notion of something he'd likely made up in his head and had no ground to stand on whatsoever. 

        “Should I follow you?/ She could still try to kill you./I know I would try.”         Rhys jumps a little as Zer0’s voice comes out of thin air. He’d forgotten that he'd sent the bodyguard out. And he certainly hadn't noticed him sneaking back in. Well not, sneaking, more like just sauntered right back in, plain as day and Rhys had been so lost in his incredibly frustrating thoughts he hadn't noticed. It'd been...a smart choice to have Zer0 leave the room. He’d have felt worse having him skulk around all invisible. Chances were the assassin had already listened in. And Rhys was none the wiser. What a powerful ally…He finds himself grateful Zer0 is on his side, even if he doesn't quite know what the answer is.

        “Ah, no,” Rhys says. “It’ll be alright. She’s not a Maliwan spy or anything— you heard it yourself.”         Zer0 gives him a look that needs no verbal explanation.         “I mean, you did interrogate her yourself. I don’t think she’d lie to you. Or me, as a matter of fact.”         Zer0 just shrugs. “I will still come with./ I will be outside the place./ Your foes still draw breath.”         Cool, a bodyguard outside the restaurant. And Rhys promises he’ll tell you too. Nothing but transparency from here on out! He can be better for you. Rhys wonders if it’s bordering on delusional to think he still has a chance with you after today. He’s reminded that you don’t have anywhere to go but Atlas. Anyone else would have breathed a sigh of relief at that security. But it only makes Rhys feel worse.

        What if you’d only said yes because you couldn’t say anything else? He’d never wanted you to feel as if turning him down wasn’t an option. You had seemed pretty genuine in accepting the offer. But if he brought up the idea of dating…should he just hold off on that? But he thinks about what Zer0 said, that poetic stuff about his enemies still breathing. He does have people out there who want him dead.         So if he’s gonna die, he’s gonna die like a man, dammit! And he’s gonna tell you how he feels because that’s the manly thing to do! Emotions are manly! Sharing them is manly!         So why does he feel like he’s gonna throw up on his desk?         Focus, Rhys, focus. The reservation hasn’t even been made yet.

        He hopes you'll like the place he picked. That is if you don't find an excuse by the end of the workday to flake out on him. He knows he might do something like that if he was in your position. Several hundred feet down, in the heart of the building, you do your best to stay busy and keep your mind off...everything. Every time you feel dread begin to rise, you beat the feeling back down.

        Free food. Free food. Free food. Free food.

        The repetition doesn't seem to help. 

        When the end of the day comes, time forever marching forwards no matter how badly you wish it wouldn't, you find yourselves at another crossroads. Maintenance had come back with their report. You knew you could take it to Rhys in person, as you usually do. It wasn't a formal policy or anything, it's just something the two of you had always done. In a company so absorbed in technology, it was important to have a little human contact. However you feel your stomach drop at the idea of jumping back on the elevator and going to his office...seeing him again. It's such a ridiculous turmoil--you have to see him again anyways later on in the night. But you just don't feel ready yet.

        You need some time to yourself. You need fifteen minutes to go home and cry on your bed, to get all the nasty horrible feelings chewing away at your insides out. Let yourself fall apart so you can string yourself back together, good as new. Then maybe, just maybe, you could handle dinner with Rhys. The last think you want to do is break down crying in public. It had been so hard to bite back the tears in his office, harder with every word out of his mouth. 

        You make the difficult choice just to forward the report to him via ECHO. If he asks any questions you'll just tell him you needed a little time to get home and get ready. Luckily, as you begin to head out the door alongside other Atlas employees, you don't receive any incoming calls from him. You wonder if he's up there, with that guilty dog-caught-eating-trash look, probably kicking himself for all this. It takes a lot of restraint not to turn around and go back into the building to check on him, like you've gotten so used to doing. 

        Maybe that's the worst part of today--is that you want to go crawling back. You want to sweep this under the rug, pretend like none of it happened, pretend like it's normal for someone you trust and maybe even love to do this to you. But you just can't. It'll take time. Or a way bigger gesture than dinner, you guess. 

        Dinner itself started off as awkward as you had imagined it to be. It's Rhys, so you figured there'd be a level of awkwardness whether what happened today had gone down or not. He still hadn't called you, to your relief, and had simply forwarded the address to the restaurant and the reservation time to your ECHO. You'd told yourself before leaving the house that if you really wanted to, you probably could have faked sick to get out of this or come up with some other brilliant excuse. 

        But you don't. You don't have the heart to stand him up like that.

        Oh also he's the CEO of Atlas and probably the man with the most power on all of Promethea. You'd weighed the possibility of him doing something drastic if you didn't show. You...you don't think he's that kind of man. But after the little loyalty test with Zer0, you're no longer sure. You're uneasy. So if sitting down for a little dinner with him takes that horrible feeling away, you'd do it. 

        He gives a bit of a weak, quiet whistle, hands in his pockets, somehow confident and nervous all at the same time. "Wow," he'd said to you, looking you up and down in your different outfit. "You look, uh, you look great."

        He gives you his signature 'ok' hand signal, a habit he'd formed lately. You'd just responded with a curt nod, still not sure what to say to him. You hate this. He hates this too. It feels like the two of you are strangers all over again. He's briefly reminded of your first week at Atlas, at his side. You'd rarely spoken to him, you couldn't look him in the eye, you flinched when he did speak, and everything you did, you did absolutely terrified. It'd taken half a month to get you to stop calling him sir, and even longer to convince you to address him as 'Rhys' rather than Mr. Strongfork. Was it gonna be like that again?

        What the hell was he thinking...

        He visibly seems to deflate, the smile flickering on his face. You feel bad for your coldness--it hadn't been purposeful.

        You clear your throat. "Y-You look good too, Rhys. Beautiful, as always." 

        That seems to perk him up a little. That dumb smile of his slips back onto his face. "Y'think? Parted my hair different, see?"

        You honestly can't tell the difference or if he's joking. But either way, you just nod again. Whatever, as long as that horrible ice is broken. It shouldn't be there in the first place. You painstakingly remind yourself that it's his fault it's there to begin with. He lead you over to a table, near the back of the restaurant, towards a large window that gave a rather nice view of the city. Well, what was left of it anyways. He has a lot to rebuild. 

        "This spot used to be the best in the house," he explains a bit awkwardly. "It's been a...a little bit since I've taken anyone here so I totally forgot that the city's, uh, destroyed--you ever been here before?" 

        He has this way of talking where every thought just goes straight to his mouth. Like you can follow his train of thought alongside him. That's why you'd trusted him so fast and warmed up to him so easily before. Now it makes you wonder how he'd been able to keep his plan a secret from you. Had he planned to do that to you for long? Or was it a spur of the moment Rhys thing? 

        Stop thinking about it.

        He was waiting on a response.

        You shake your head. "No. I haven't had the chance to check everything out here."

        Rhys wants to kick himself. Right. You'd practically spent most of your adult life working under Maliwan. You'd only come to Promethea to begin with because that's where you'd been ordered to go. Hopefully a waiter comes soon and saves him from this. Or...he could just be honest with you and say sorry. He'd been pacing the office, already planning out an apology in his head. He'd even written it down on a piece of paper, of all things, and then had promptly crumpled it up and threw it out. There's...there's a lot he wants to say to you and he doesn't have a clue where to start. 

        You watch Rhys call over a waiter with a rather brisk gesture that suggests the conversation is just as uncomfortable for him. Quietly, you put your order in. He orders wine-- a nice bottle from what little you know about fineries. You hadn't really imagined him to be a big drinker. He must be nervous. 

        "You can have some too. Obviously. As much as you want. My treat." 

        "Thanks," you say a bit blankly, finding your gaze wandering somewhere out the window. 

        He can wait for the alcohol to loosen him up a bit. To give him the courage to say what he need to. But he wonders if that might come across as inauthentic. If you'll think it's just the wine talking for him. 

        Fuck it.

        "Look," he says with a heavy sigh, regaining your attention.

        With your eyes on him, he's suddenly ten times more reluctant to continue. But he sets his jaw, he sits up straighter. His hand, the organic one, reaches across the table, in an attempt to mimic your forgiving gesture in his office earlier. You stare at it for a moment and Rhys heart stops in his chest. But then, gingerly, your arm lifts, and your place your hand in his. His fingers come to tighten around yours. 

        "I'm gonna be honest. No more lying, or hiding things from you. So I'll start by telling you that Zer0 is outside the building."

        He waits for you to snatch your hand away, to stand up outraged and storm away from the table, right back out the door. He feel him almost brace himself. But you don't move. 

        "I'll hear you out, Rhys," you say, voice still low. "But I'm not going to make any promises that I can just magically forgive you, or we can go back to how things were, no matter what you say. To be honest, I'm not even sure how I feel right now."

        "Of course, of course," he says, just sounding happy you haven't stomped off yet. "But you deserve an apology. So here it is. I'm sorry, (Y/N). I really am. It was a mistake to ask Zer0 to interrogate you like that. It was a mistake to ever doubt your faith in Atlas, in me. I know you haven't been with me long, but I honestly don't know how I would have stayed sane lately without you around. You're..."

        Your work at Atlas is important to me. Say that.

        "You're important to me," Rhys says finally. "Which is why I couldn't risk losing you if Maliwan was still...well, y'know, in the picture."

        You're quiet for a moment. His hand's warm around yours. You've made no motion to pull away. 

        "I have a question for you," you say.

        "Yes, anything," Rhys says, practically halfway across the table, he's leaning in so intently. 

        "If I had been a traitor, er, a Maliwan spy...what would you have done?" The question had been burning in the back of your mind. 

        Rhys hadn't even stopped to think about that. Maybe it's because even when he gave Zer0 the order, he hadn't imagine Zer0 would come back with anything suggesting you actually were a traitor. That made him feel bad again. He should have trusted his gut...he shouldn't have questioned you. 

        "I...I'm not sure. I wouldn't have had Zer0 hurt you, if that's what you're thinking. I think..." What would he have done? "I think I would have tried to figure out why. Why you were still working with Maliwan. Wh-which you aren't! I know that! But I would have figured that maybe they were blackmailing you, or-or threatening to hurt you, or something."

        Your head tilts. "Why?" For the first time that night your gaze meets his again and he feels relief thrum through him.

        "Because I still wouldn't want to lose you," Rhys said firmly. He gives a bit of a laugh. "No, I wouldn't give you back to Maliwan that easily, c'mon now. Who'd bring me all my bagels with the extra cream cheese and coffee and whatever stupid thing I'm craving if you weren't around?"

        Your shoulders also move in a bit of a laugh. You know that you do more for him than that. He knows it too. But he doesn't have to mention all that. 

        Rhy's thumb strokes over the back of your hand. "And...y'know when I first found you, hiding under my desk--which is where I was going, by the way--I figured...something tells me you were just as afraid as I was. Even if you'd been sent there to definitely kill me on sight. I don't think you'd secretly work for a corporation that scares you that much when there's a better option. Atlas is wayyy too nice to betray, right?"

        You give him a half smile. 

        "Okay, Rhys, you don't have to keep going. That...hearing that makes me feel a little better," you admit. 

        Your chosen drink and Rhys's wine arrives at the table. When he offers you a glass as well, you accept almost immediately. His apology, although initially hard to start, seemed to set your mind more at peace. You seemed to relax more, especially after a few more glasses of wine. Before long, the two of you are laughing and talking like you used to, over various plates of food that he's pretty sure neither of you will finish. Leftovers...nice. His suite's pretty barebones when it comes to fridge content because of how busy he'd been lately. 

        He had not known before offering you as much wine as you wanted that you were a bit of a lightweight. He realizes when he signals for a check from the waiter that the night may get a little more interesting. Especially when you were hanging on his cybernetic arm, finally outside the restaurant. It's difficult to keep an eye on you, the to go bag, and trying to pin down a ride all at once. 

        He manages and makes sure you gets into the car safe first. As he settles down next to you with a sigh, he glances over at you. You already look half asleep. He'd hate to wake you up, you look so peaceful...He turns his head to give the driver instructions but finds his words stuck in his throat. 

        He realizes he has zero idea where you actually live. “Uh…..”         Guess you could just come home with him? You’re practically asleep on his shoulder already, head leaned into the crook of his neck.

        He tries to stay as quiet as he can for the ride over, not wanting to wake you until he absolutely has to. You naturally come out of it when the car rolls to a stop outside the building. You don't really ask any questions as he guides you in with him. Either you're too tired, or you don't care enough to ask what's going on. Rhys feels a glow in his chest. Which means maybe you trust him again...? For real? Not in the fake, amicable way from before?

        Rhys shoulders open the door to his suite for you. He momentarily abandons the food from the restaurant on the marble countertop. He brings you to the first place he can think of, or at least the safest, the bedroom. Like you think it's your own room, you collapse onto the bed yourself, without any further prompting from him. 

        "Man, remind me not to go drinking with you," he mumbled, throwing some of the covers over you. "You get sleepy wayyyy too fast." 

        His response is just an unintelligible mumble. For a moment, he sits on the edge of the bed as you nuzzle into the pillow--his pillow. Somewhere in your mind, you wonder faintly why your bed smells like Rhys for some reason. His weight shifts, an attempt to leave. The couch in the living room is plenty comfortable. And so is his chair and his desk back in his office if he doesn't sleep well tonight. 

        He hears the covers shift. He feels your fingers suddenly wrap around his wrist, gently tugging him back to the bed.

         “(Y/N),” he starts, but he sees the way your eyebrows furrow, like you’re in pain. Much different from the peaceful mini-nap you had been taking on his shoulder in the backseat of the car.          “Please... don’t leave me here alone,” you say softly, eyes still shut. “I don’t... I don't wanna be alone.”         He barely catches the last bit your slurring is so bad, but his mind quickly catches up and connects the dots. Slowly, Rhys settles back down onto the bed. You keep pulling at him and with a sigh, he gives in fully, laying down next to you. A bit clumsily, your arms wrap around him completely. He lays, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as your hand rests on his shoulder, arm splayed put over his chest. You’ve turned on your side, face pressed to his arm.

        Rhys is careful not to move the entire night, although he can't help dozing off a few times. He doesn't even know how it's possible to do that with the way his heart is racing in his chest. This...this isn't usually what he has in mind during his weaker moments where he can't help but picture you here, on his bed, with him. He finds his hand reaching up to grasp yours on his shoulder, holding gently overtop. Not wanting to move and wake you up, he manages to turn off the lights, from the bed. The perks of keeping his cybernetics and ECHO eye in such a high tech city, he supposes. The curtains pull, as if compelled, completely shut, to block out any further intrusive light. 

        Was this professional by any means?

        No.

        But then again, he thinks, gazing down at you, ECHO eye allowing him to see slightly in the darkness... when has he ever really cared about professionalism?

        When you eventually wake, you feel like you just had the best sleep of your entire life. No screaming no nightmares, no clench of fear in your chest, no waking in a cold sweat. Could have been the alcohol, but it also could have been that you're not alone in the bed-...Wait a minute, where the fuck are you? Your fingers are resting on something, someone else’s shoulder. Your heart seizes in your chest. The last thing you remember was drinking with Rhys…his apology…wait.         Slowly and tentatively, in the pitch black room, your other hand, the one that had been placed on his chest slowly drifts up to touch over a cheek.

        You bite the inside of your own cheek, letting your hand travel slightly down until you feel thick hair under your fingertips, and a soft upper lip—it’s definitely Rhys.         What the fuck is wrong with you? You both get drunk and the first thing you do is fuck him?! Completely unprofessional. Would you even be able to look him in the eyes ever again after this?! This was the exact thing you'd always been trying to avoid in Maliwan. It was all too easy to sleep with a boss open enough to the idea and get an easy promotion through that--you'd always sworn you'd never be one of those girls, as lucky as they were. And you'd especially sworn to yourself that you wouldn't do that with Rhys, even if he was cute and funny in that weird way and-

        Jesus Christ.         You suddenly feel a warm hand grasp over yours, the non-mechanical one. Rhys moves your hand down, hesitating over his lips briefly, before he decides it’s safer to just hold it at his chest again. He’s still wearing his shirt from the night before. His tie isn't even undone. Which means…you think about all the various ways you could have had sex…which means absolutely nothing. But…your underwear is still in place and your dress is only askew because you had likely shifted in your sleep.         It’s like he can read your mind.         “We didn’t do anything,” Rhys says, voice a bit rough from just having woken up. “You just…I was gonna go sleep on the couch, but you said you didn’t wanna be alone.”         Your face heats with embarrassment. You said that to him?         “Oh…sorry. I just…” You trail off. Just because he'd been honest with you last night doesn't mean you owe him the same thing. You don’t want to tell him that every night when you go to sleep you have to relive Maliwan. You don’t want to let him know that there’s a personal hell waiting for you every time you close your eyes outside the workplace. You don't want-         “Why don’t you wanna be alone?” Rhys finds himself asking, interrupting your quickly spiralling train of thought. “Maybe it was just a drunk thing but-“         “Every time I go to sleep I’m back, working for Maliwan, people dying all around me,” you find yourself confessing anyways, like you can't help it. Like you're possessed by some obligance. “It’s awful. I kinda thought it would stop after awhile but it…I dunno.”         Rhys shifts a little. You think he might be looking at you. You see his pale blue ECHO eye glow a little in the darkness, fixed on you.         “Did it help last night? I mean, me staying?” he asks.         You nod. “Yeah. It did.” There’s really nothing else you can say to him.

        You can't see it in the dark, but Rhys frowns. Every time you close your fucking eyes you’re back, in the middle of a battle, being shot at? Being miserable because of your former corporation? And it follow you even today? It still haunts you? And here he was making an assassin go interrogate you, thinking you were going to betray him and go back to Maliwan?         He could not possibly feel sorry enough. He heaves a sigh, one that moves your hand on his chest with it.         “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I feel like even more of an idiot now. I had no idea-“         You shrug. “How could you? It’s not like I was sharing my dream journal with you over lunch.”         You have a…? He realizes you’re just making a little joke. Awkwardly, he stays quiet for a few more moments. You feel him squeeze your hand a little tighter to his chest.         “I…I wouldn’t mind if you did. I want that. Uh…”         The mental health of my employees is very important to me!         He could save himself now. He could bail on this whole stupid crush. He could keep this professional and just find someone else. But he just... can’t.         “I really really like you, (Y/N). And you don’t have to say it back or pretend to like me to so you can keep your job. You’ll always have a home at Atlast, with me, no matter what your answer is.”         You’re quiet for a few agonizing moments that feel like hours to Rhys with the way his heart is pumping. It's too early in the morning for this shit. At least he thinks it is. He actually has no idea what time it is. He feels you shift in bed, sitting up. Are you leaving? Already his heart begins to sink. He’s glad it’s dark in here so you can’t see how red he is. He breathes out a soft sigh, shutting his eyes momentarily. You see his ECHO eye’s light disappear. At least he’d finally said something. At least-         He suddenly feels your lips at the corner of his mouth.         “Sorry, I missed,” you murmur, a bit embarrassed. “It’s dark in here.”         Rhys can’t help but take your chin in his hand, adjusting your position so he can kiss you fully on the lips. The first is light, experimental at most. The kind of thing you can wave off as a mistake and walk away from. The second kiss… not so much. It's passionate, deep, your lips moving against his, like you want him in his entirety. Such a desperate, lonesome kind of need...the nature of your feelings towards him becomes just a little clearer to Rhys right then. 

        He’s breathless when you pull away, chest rising and falling somewhat quickly.         “So…I’m guessing that means you like me too?” He asks, a hopeful twinge in his voice.

        You fall back into the mattress, at his side, hand still grasped in his. You have no intention of pulling it away. With a sigh, you respond.         “You have no idea.”

#one shot #borderlands #rhys strongfork #rhys strongfork x reader

[hwnglx]

Hiii can I ask you how the riize members are feeling after seunghan was forced to go in a hiatus? Thank youuu

how do riize feel about seunghan's hiatus?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

okay, remember i solely focused on the members' emotions here, so in general the energy is very messy. each member's feelings are pretty complicated and different, also a lot of it is surpressed, so much caution around what they express and what they keep to themselves. they seem to be walking on egg shells, esp when faced with the company, just having no choice but to accept whatever decision is made. you gotta remember they just debuted and are afraid of messing up by voicing their opinion impulsively. so they're just kinda nodding at everything, i feel like.

shotaro 10ofp, pagofw&lovers+kingofw, 7ofp, aceofp, 10ofc

his priority is in the future and stability of the group.. you can tell he's the oldest just by his mindset, and the fact that many big decisions seem to be made by him. i can tell his previous experience helps him a lot in giving the newly debuted and more insecure members a push in confidence and braveness. he's encouraging them and trying to establish an attitude focused on hard work and patience, but also really wanting to keep the group in harmony. it's pretty interesting, because i literally can't see any glimpse of seunghan in here? he doesn't consider him much and believes if his hiatus is what had to happen for the group to get to a successful and stable place, then so be it. not much emotional attachment to the situation, very driven and work-focused mindset for him.

eunsok 4ofsw, 5ofsw, 9ofsw, 10ofsw, 7ofp, knofp

okay, he's definitely one of the more affected members. seunghan's hiatus seemed to have driven him to an anxious and tense state full of doubts, i can see him constantly worrying about the ways in which the negativity of the scandal could affect them. he felt pretty helpless, like he couldn't really do anything other than watching everything happen. there were different stages of emotion for him, from hopelessness to anxiety to feeling like this was a significant "rock bottom" moment for them. however, the 10 of swords is the last card of its suit (plus it transitioned in this spread starting from the 9 of swords), so things seem to have slowly moved up again considering the pentacles i got afterwards. i previously got the seven of pentacles for shotaro as well, so it seems like they're trying to just believe in the power of hard work and remain patient, believe in the process. there's this sense of optimism now, where they try to hold on to the belief that this might be beneficial in the long run.

sungchan 5ofp, moon, devil&10ofc, kingofc

phew, the situation messed him up for sure. i feel like he's especially stressed about the amount of things happening without him knowing. it seems like he didn't know about the things seunghan was doing. a lot of deception here.. he feels wronged and definitely blaming him here, thinking he was an idiot for spoiling the group in such a reckless and selfish manner. (no offense, that's what i'm picking up.) like i can tell he hates how the scandal affected the group's mood and harmony, he seems to be someone who truly values this collective feeling of contentment, wants everyone to be happy. he's someone very emotionally intelligent and mature though, so he's focused on being the bigger guy in this situation. (he's still the one arguing the most tho. like, stepping up and talking the most.) not sure if he's the leader, i don't know much about the group in general, but it seems like his mood has huge impact on the group's dynamic, which he's aware of. so he's trying to be the strong shoulder to lean on, though deep inside i can sense a lot of frustration.

wonbin strength, judg, moon, 2ofsw, 6ofp, queofc, fool, 10ofc, tower&justice

so much major arcana, seems to be the most emotional one out of all them, very big feelings. it's very messy. i think he himself gets confused and overwhelmed by his emotions a lot. the scandal really stirred things up in him. it especially made him look back on himself a lot. i can tell wonbin is someone very focused on upholding a clean and faultless image, he cares a lot about what people think. so in a way, he believes seunghan was just being idiotic and immature. he thinks his band member should've been more responsible in what he does, since he's an idol now, and the result is just a cause of his impulsive actions. still, he seems to be the only member who actually genuinely felt bad for seunghan (like i'm not gonna lie, most of them don't care much about him and primarily about themselves 😬) and let him know he's there for him. i can see him hugging seunghan.

sohee aceofp&6ofsw&8ofp, aceofc, knofp&8ofc

more than anything, sohee sees the situation as a new beginning for them. making the transition from the ace of pents to the 8 of pents, he believes it made them work even harder, putting in twice the effort, making sure the negativity of the situation doesn't stand in their way. it's almost like it gave him a push of motivation? the six of swords does have a bittersweet undertone, putting a member on hiatus wasn't his most ideal outcome. but idk, i can just see him trying to see the good side of it all. the eight of cups is kinda similar here, since it also indicates leaving something behind for the better. however, cups represent emotion. combined with the knight of pentacles, he's ready to leave behind what doesn't serve him anymore, or in this case a member who's continuously had "bad" influence on the group, despite there being certain emotions tied to him. he isn't over the moon happy, but at the end of it all, he thinks this was the right decision for the group's trajectory and their careers. anton moon&sun, 5ofw&star, queofsw&justice

anton is the third member i got the moon for, so they definitely felt lost and confused on how to deal with everything. a scandal happening so early in their career caused them to feel pretty insecure and uncertain. with the moon, there's also a sense of hiddenness. i can just tell communication is on the more difficult side for this group, since they're still getting to know each other. (i can see sungchan being the most vocal one, and the rest just kinda watching him shout?) anton is another member who felt a lot, thought a lot, but didn't really know how to express it, or how much to reveal. the five of wands definitely reveals a lot of conflict, external and internal. however the sun and the star card following the two negative ones, is a good indicator. he was able to avert his focus on his own goals and dreams. "he did it to himself, whatever." is the vibe i get. anton doesn't care much about things unless they concern himself, i will say. he seems like the type to believe in karma, so he doesn't really feel bad for seunghan persé, since he just should've known better in his eyes. he's just trying to move on from it without letting it affect him emotionally.

#kpop tarot #riize tarot #i went into this reading not knowing what awaited me 😵‍💫 #this was a looot

[inosukenumberonefan]

How to catch Kokushibo's eye

Unlike upper rank 2 and 3 I belive he would go for a demon because they're isn't any circumstances where a human would cross his path and live.

You'd have to upper rank 2 or 3 because I feel the only way to get to really talk to him would be challenging him to a blood battle or being assigned a mission with him (Or you could harm one of the demons that are above you but he prolly would dislike you for that)

In these two scenarios you'd have to be about the strength of upper 2 or 3 because

In a mission you have to be as close as you could be to be able to keep up with him and not hold him back.

In a blood battle if you were upper 4 5 or 6 he' wipe the floor with you and absorb you for being so naive and stupid and if you somehow managed to beat him and leave him alive bro would never recover and never talk to you again. (Inferioty complex gonna hit hard)

In both of these scenarios you'd have to be have a specific personality for him not to despise you.

His ideal personality:

Queit: Hes not much of a talker but that does not mean he's a listener after about 30 seconds of you raving or talking about someone not "work" related he gets annoyed. (I headcanon him as not liking loud noises either)

Most of your time spent with him will be in comfortable silence and small talk so you need to be down for that

Loyal: This has been established in the manga that he very highly believes in the hierarchy of the demons so he would not like someone who frequently does not listen to Muzan or complains (I belive the reason he let Akaza live was because of his loyalty to Muzan)

Serious: This is pretty self explanatory. Bro does not like goofing around and he takes getting stronger and being a demon VERY serious so someone who doesn't he'll label them as a distraction and annoyance

Calm: He prefers queit and tranquility so someone who doesn't freak out and get hyper or whatever is VERY MUCH preferred. He needs someone who will address him calmly instead of freezing up in fear (still gotta treat him with respect)

Extra points!

Sharing the same ideals as him which is doing anything to get stronger and training very hard.

Being a training buddy (will elaborate more on this later)

Using a katana as a weapon.

Being turned into a demon by Kokushibo

For age you can either be a super old demon 300-500 years (like him) were you've slowly climbed the ranks maybe going up a rank every 50 or so years until finally you challenge him.

Or....

You can be a baby demon 0-50 years. (The younger you are the more impressed he is) it takes a demon roughly 55-100 to devour enough humans to become an upper rank so being able to climb the ranks faster then most, to him that condems respect.

NOW I HAVE A VISION!

Imagine you're a baby demon just recently turned, you were a previous demon slayer a Hashira or Kinoe. Your skills and powers were already great but now they're out of this world. You've climbed the ranks fast and managed to secure a position in the upper ranks.

Now stick with me... Your BDA is related to your swordsmanship (like Kokushibo's 😽) so you seek him out here's the scene.

"Am I right to assume you used to be a demon slayer Kokushibo-sama?" He stands there contemplating his response or whether or not he should respond.

"As were you." You nod.

"Your blood demon art and sword skill truly are something to behold." You compliment and he tenses up at the praise. "Mines actually quite similar-."

"I have important matters to attend to. Please don't waste my time with formalities." He interrupts.

"I was hoping to find a sparring partner." He wasn't very expressive but you could tell he did not want to do that AT ALL. "I understand your reservations but I do belive its been some time since you've gotta a proper fight and not that I don't find you immensely strong but the Hashira's of this era are out of the world especially with them unlocking the mark, it would be a terrible for any of us to die because we haven't gotten proper practice."

It takes him a while but he agrees because you're also fighting with a katana like a demon slayer and you're matching the power of a hashira so it's a good agreement!

#kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x you

[9800sblog]

yeosang tarot reading

his reputation in the kpop industry

do I have his energy permission to do and share this reading? 3 of cups

vibes for the 09/01/2023 17:22 GMT-3

in general

death reversed, 3 of cups reversed, 6 of wands reversed, 4 of wands, ace of swords, 5 of cups

most people think yeosang is a shy guy who comes to life around his friends, it takes a while to get to know him and you gotta be patient, he's the type of person to only speak if it's gonna make a big impact. yeosang is seen as extremely stable casually and professionally, his skills are probably impressive to many and his voice seems to shock some. he looks very cold at first, but you can quickly see that he is very loyal to those he chooses to keep in his life and holds onto them for a long time. many may feel like they don't know him that well, feel left out in the cold by him, and wish to be closer, as deep or casual friends. yeosang seems to entice many crushes too hehe the 4 of wands can mean that many people think he'd a good and loyal partner and/or a fun friendship. he is extremely popular, but he's not an outgoing individual, many wish to hang out, have fun, probably party with him, as that's such a consistent message, but not have many opportunities to do so. in general, yeosang is a delightful presence that many wish to have around more often.

closer idols

justice, 2 of cups reversed, knight of wands reversed, 8 of wands reversed, knight of cups

intense beauty, inside and out. again, he does not interact much, but they can see he is very passionate about the things/people that he does choose to have around. yeosang seems to lose control around thos he trusts, in a way unforseen, like someone who can't handle alcohol and only drinks around trustable friends. he seems to be very passionate about his friendships, and not care much about romance, he may have an untraditional way of seeing relationships. this is someone who really knows how to separate work and fun, so he may shock those that see him outside of a professional environment for the first time. he's just a total opposite from when you first see him, he can go from really quiet to talking and moving non-stop, it seems there is a lot more appreciation over his work after people see him casually.

staff

9 of pentacles, the hierophant, 5 of swords reversed, 10 of swords

a very defensive guy, mostly traditional, keeps to himself, follows basic rules of respect and makes everyone comfortable, they may assume he's often tired. yeosang may be a breath of fresh air after dealing with crazy, loud, sometimes offensive and plain rude celebrities, he may be seen as sweet and considerate, someone they wanna take care of softly, makes them wanna work harder for him, the type of person that makes the staff's job worth it. it's refreshing to be around him, they feel like they're all on the same level and he's just a nice guy, just a nice person, they really like being around him. they wanna give him gifts and make his life beautiful, external beauty is coming out again too, someone extremely attractive and easy on the eye. yeosang may be surprising comfortable around female staff, which makes them feel light and safe. and interestingly enough, yeosang may give the impression that he feels staff are doing him a favor or that he's working for them or with them, together, which is definitely different than most people on entertainment industry, makes them feel like they can let their guards down around him and not be so defensive, as they're not scared of being hurt by him. he may often jokingly or unintentionally hurt people, which is just seen as cute, apparently.

female idols

4 of pentacles, knight of cups reversed, queen of swords, 8 of swords, king of cups

god, he is so nice! this is a guy that may look unavailable to them, maybe because he is a bit sheltered and quiet, he looks like a gentleman tho, like the type to offer to hold your bag and open car doors for them. they don't get many direct interactions with him, he may often be busy with work or other people, but watching him from afar makes them think he is such a soft spoken, well intentioned individual, with a warm heart and a good moral compass. he may often shock people with his passions, and the things he says (in a lighthearted way, it seems). parts of yeosang are kept very well hidden and they're quite aware, the most interactions he gets are at/about work and they're always impressed at how good he is at his job, he seems to have many opportunities to show them different sides of himself, all of which they really admire, he is the type of person they aspire to be like. his ability to control his environment and his own body is very impressive, he seems to move very intuitively, like a 6th sense. they may think he's a very cleaver and knowledgeable guy too. female idols seem to think yeosang is an awesome person who should show off more often, a great personality, great charisma, interesting conversations, intelligent jokes, unbelievable beauty comes out in all sections. but they have a lot of respect for him, they want him to be comfortable over everything, so if being more reserved is what makes him happy, so be it! such a nice presence!

male idols

9 of wands, king of swords, page of cups reversed, the star, 9 of cups reversed

he is seriously admired at his work, seen as an expert, someone that should be almost feared, you do not wanna have him as your competition. he makes guys feel defensive, like they have to show off their talents the second he walks in a room, he makes their insecurities go through the roof hahaha they get often surprised and a bit starstruck when they see him as he is actually just a normal, nice, casual guy, that makes their worries melt when they start talking, actually. most like to watch him from afar and may be quiet fans, yeosang may have many boy crushes too! but they seem to think he's not available and watch him from afar, like others do. such an impressive guy, I think many wanna be friends with him too, but most just give up talking to him kkkkkkk I sense some heavy energy, but yeosang knows so many people from mc job, and most seem to just genuinely like him, be it close or from afar, makes the negative energy just totally literally irrelevant. men think yeosang does not need to show off, he shines so brightly, so naturally, he does not have to try hard, superhuman. he may be often dressed in beautiful clothes and accessories too. he is seen as such a mature individual, who deserves way more than he gets, it seems to be a consistent reputation for ateez, idols think he's working on a lower level than his skills and professionalism are.

#kpop tarot #ateez tarot #ateez #yeosang

[shuttershocky]

Hey shutters! While I overall enjoyed FF16, I agree that I wish Jill did more or spoke more. I feel like there was missed potential of having a relationship more like Saber and shirou, where they both have similar mindsets and trauma. Specifically, when it came to overusing their powers and having to face the crystals' curse being similar to how Shirou and Saber did not want the other to fight but how they both needed to.

I'm still in the middle of the game (after Titan's bossfight) but it feels like Jill was written by an Aerith fan that only knew the FF7 cast from fanworks, movies, and Kingdom Hearts rather than the actual FF7, so Tifa's the tough spunky girl and Aerith's the softie flower girl when their original personalities are actually switched lol

Out of all the characters in FF16 I've seen so far, Jill was written for a role the hardest. What I mean by that is that while someone like Benedikta's an extremely standard femme fatale villain type (the kind that Urobochi would strangle midway through the season to be replaced by the real, male villain), she at least gets to revel in it. She gets to kick dogs, lose her composure, she's got at least one loyal minion she's genuinely close to and trusts in when the archetype doesn't usually, all that stuff. She gets to have fun with the role.

Jill? Jill was written to be Clive's woman before she was written to be a character, and it feels so glaringly obvious from how she's treated. She almost never gets to talk to anyone else other than Clive despite having screentime second only to Clive, she doesn't challenge him in any way, all of the other people barely acknowledge she's even there!

Like half of the main quest dialogue is

Plot Person: Bugger me, these Imperials won't live and let live won't they Clive? Plot plot plot dialogue dialogue. We oughta plot plot plot plot and get 'em right in the arse!

Clive: Hmm. Agreed. Plot plot plot important characters plot. We'll ride at dawn.

Plot person: Righto! See you in hell then. *Nods* Lady Jill.

Jill: *smiles meekly*

And it's such a waste because when she's actually allowed to do anything she's fun! Her character design is my favorite in the game, she gets to swing a sword around, when Clive gets bowled over her AI often gets caught too so the two get thrown up into the air screaming and doing a quadruple flip and its funny as fuck, as soon as she's finally given time to express one damn wish she's like "Clive, this priest did unspeakable things to children. I call dibs on killing him." And Clive's all "Of course Jill you'll get to murder him as much as you want" and that's fun!

They're each other's enablers! That's supposed to be their dynamic. Clive was a rejected son and a failure of a bodyguard, Jill's entire life was spent being someone's hostage (of both Rosaria and the Iron Kingdom), so they're the only pillar of support the other has. You can see the intent of their dynamic plain as day when Cid's trying to talk them into joining his merry crew of outlaws and Clive and Jill subconsciously hold hands and squeeze when they're nervous.

But to DO that right Jill has to be allowed to be her own character. Even in the Iron Kingdom level where Clive and Jill go after the High Priest because killing him is what Jill wants, in the ensuing bossfight Jill primes as Shiva while Clive fails to prime, and then instead of Jill taking charge she protects Clive while he fights the boss.

Seriously? One of them is flying around with literal god powers and the other has a bad case of Eikonic Dysfunction and rather than crush the giant lava monster herself, Jill makes sure Clive still gets to fight it in his puny human form and be the big hero? Come on. I was surprised that Jill still ran the High Priest through with her sword, I genuinely expected the game to take that away from her too.

Anyway she's obviously my favorite part of 16 now. Somebody's gotta be in her corner.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 22: Halloween Tour Date

Summary:

Jamil decides to spend their first day together touring Azul around NRC's Campus in the midst of Halloween Week.

Many offer their support, though a certain student has different intentions in mind...

Word Count: 3,894

At the head of the dining table is Jade, writing in his notebook. To his left, Floyd and Rielle seem to be in the middle of a pleasant conversation. Beside Rielle is Ruggie, drawing things on Ace's face while the freshman is sleeping on his arms on the table, seated across from Ruggie. The two vacant chairs are between Jade and Ace.

Ruggie sniffs the air when they arrive and turns to look at them. "Aw yeah food's here!"

"I trust you didn't wait too long?" Azul asks as he and Jamil set down the plates on the table.

"Nah we just got here," Floyd says through a wide yawn.

"Thank you for cooking breakfast," Rielle smiles at them. "You didn't have to wake up so early for us.”

"It wasn't any trouble at all," Jamil replies, sitting next to Ace and taking a sip from his coffee cup. "Besides, we already spent the whole day yesterday sleeping." He nods at the freshman beside him. "Looks like someone hasn't recovered from our late-night excursion." He gives Ace a poke. "Hey. It's rude to sleep at the dining table."

Ace violently jerks up. "Gah! Don't behead m— Bwah?"

"Mornin', Crabbyyyyyy," Floyd croons, snickering.

Ace blinks and then gazes at the meal before them. "Oh, food!"

"You got that right!" Ruggie rubs his hands together. "C'mon, let's dig in!"

"Do you cook a lot, Jamil?" Rielle asks as they all begin eating.

"I've been cooking since I was a kid and I often cook for my dorm members,” Jamil replies.

“Ah, I see. I saw the cookies you made for Azul back at the ball, I was surprised to see him eating them since he usually avoids snacking. They must have been good for him to finish them."

"Must have been?" Azul looks at Rielle pointedly. "You ate three of those cookies yourself."

"And I don't regret it!" Rielle says with a grin.

"Ehhhh? Sea Snake, you made treats and you didn't give us any?" Floyd complains, looking at Azul. "Octyyyyy, make him make us treats, tooooo!"

Azul chuckles. "I don't think any of us can make Jamil do anything, Floyd."

Ace snorts beside Jamil. "Yeah, right. This guy doesn't know his power," he mutters to Ruggie.

Floyd gasps at Jamil in realization. "Hey! You said gifts weren't needed at the ball! But you brought Octy a gift!"

"I liked your gift too, Floyd," Rielle reassures him, holding up his wrist and pulling his sleeve back to show a bracelet where he had affixed a button as a charm. "See?" he smiles.

Floyd's mouth gapes open as he stares at the bracelet, then at Rielle's face. "I'd make out with you right here but Jade has been gettin' on me about my table manners lately."

Rielle's face goes red and he laughs nervously, averting his eyes. "Th-That's—" he clears his throat. "Anyway, maybe I can bring treats next time I come here."

"A... button?" Ruggie asks in confusion.

"Aww, lookit Floyd being such a charmer!" Ace teases.

"It's a good thing you imposed that restriction, Jade," Jamil mutters. "I don't think my appetite can handle watching Floyd tear into Rielle this early in the morning."

Jade chuckles in amusement. “It really has been a delight having you all around; do feel free to visit Octavinelle whenever it pleases you. It’s a shame we must go our separate ways today.”

"Shoot, you're right!" Ace hisses, sitting straight up. "I can’t be late for Heartslabyul's assembly! It's my costume shift today!"

"And I gotta buy some snacks for the cubs at Sam's shop later." Ruggie hums. "Leona's idea. Don't tell anyone, though. He wants to keep coming off as aloof as ever. What about you lil' lovebirds?"

"No, no, haven't you learned, Ruggie?" Jade playfully chastises him. "Only Floyd and Rielle are the lovebirds here."

Ruggie snorts. "Right, and Leona and I are just friends. I been hangin' out with these two since Azul's first visit here," he points at both of them in turn with his spoon. "And like I told Jamil back then, my nose never lies," he taps on the side of his nose with his finger.

He smirks meaningfully, and Jamil suddenly remembers how Ruggie had said in detention that Jamil had Azul's scent all over him.

And that was just after one hug that only lasted for a handful of seconds.

Jamil tries his best to focus on his food and keep a straight face despite feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

Jade then politely clears his throat. "Azul, Rielle, what will you be doing today? Does the committee have any duties of their own to attend to?"

"Ah, I'm currently suspended from the committee as I'm still recovering," Azul says.

"I have to coordinate with your Halloween committee later to finalize the catering," Rielle answers. "All in all, Azul and I don't have to go back to RSA until later this afternoon."

"Awww, can't you sleep here again?" Floyd pouts at Rielle.

"I'll keep visiting whenever I can," Rielle smiles at him, putting a hand on top of his.

Floyd brightens up. "And I can visit RSA! If Sea Snake can fly all the way over there to smooch his crush, I can too!"

"I wasn't smooching him," Jamil huffs. Not back then, at least. “Finish your breakfast.”

"Yeah, let's get this show on the road and make everyone see just how awesome this year's Halloween Week's gonna be!" Ace proudly declares, new energy pumping through his veins from both the coffee, the meal, and the looming threat of getting clocked by his own Prefect.

After freshening up with showers, the group soon split up by the Hall of Mirrors, with Jade and Rielle heading for the assembly hall where the Halloween Committee would be holding a meeting.

Ruggie saluted them then dipped into Savanaclaw's mirror, Ace practically ran for Heartslabyul's, and Floyd… well, he had almost followed Rielle, but when he was told that only committee members would be allowed in, he groaned and slinked off to who knows where.

Jamil then wordlessly offers his hand for Azul to hold.

Azul looks surprised for a moment, but he smiles softly and takes Jamil's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Where shall we go first?"

"Since you're not in any committee, we'll be treating you like a guest here, Mister Ashengrotto," Jamil replies playfully. "We're getting you a stamp ticket first, and the closest booth that'd give those would be at the clock tower near Sam's shop. Visit all the special locations and get them stamped and you'll get yourself a lil' prize." He leads Azul out of the building, where paved roads, foliage, and lampposts are adorned with pumpkins, streamers, and festive lights blending in with the trees' autumn colors.

"Oh? And what prize would that be?" Azul asks in interest. "Or is that an NRC secret?"

Other students are starting to notice their linked hands, and several of them turn their heads and look at Jamil curiously.

"It's not a secret, it's just candy," Jamil replies. He notices the stares. He tells himself that it's all right and simply sticks even closer to Azul. "Why? Hoping for another kind of treat?"

Azul raises an eyebrow playfully, "I am." Then his voice lowers to almost a purr and he leans his face closer to Jamil's. "I'm hoping for something much sweeter than candy." Then he chuckles and stands up properly again like nothing happened. "What do we have to do at the clock tower to get a stamp?"

Jamil widens his eyes at Azul's bold flirt right in the middle of the street and takes a few seconds to blink and recover before responding, "What… do we have to do..? Oh er… nothing, really. Just find the guy assigned for giving out those stamp sheets and move on. The school hasn't opened to the public yet so we'll have a few moments of peace before the visitors crowd in."

And so they arrive at the clock tower. To the right, Sam's shop is seen, decked out in tapestries, carpets, haybales and pumpkins to resemble an abandoned marketplace. Many of the Scarabia students are tidying up the area, dressed in a scarlet-and-white ensemble as they don fake wolf ears and tails.

A few of them notice the duo approaching and proceed to greet them with waves and hearty "good mornings".

"Prefect! Thank goodness you're here!" One of them calls out. "We need more hands in the make-up department and Mister Sam needs help with restocking!"

"Idiot," hisses someone else. "Can't you see he's on a date with Mister Azul right now?"

"Oh, are you needed here?" Azul turns to Jamil. "It's alright, we can continue the tour later." He turns to the other residents. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"OH! No, i-it's okay! Never mind! We got this handled—" stammers the student asking for help.

"It's all right," Jamil calmly reassures them, decidedly not refuting the fact that they're on a date. "I also came here to assist and make up for my absence yesterday." He turns to Azul and gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, this'll be quick. Maybe you can see if you can help Sam. He should be inside his shop."

Azul smiles at him and squeezes his hand back. "Alright, I shall see you in a bit." He gives a friendly nod to the other residents and goes inside the shop.

"Prefect, are you really dating Mister Azul now?" a bright-eyed first year asks him excitedly.

"Sshh, don't pester Prefect!" says a sophomore passing by carrying fake wolf ears and a makeup kit.

"Is he gonna borrow our dorm uniform again?" another first year asks.

The sophomore scoffs. "You just wanna ogle Mister Azul's biceps."

"I do not!" he blushes fiercely.

"Is Mister Azul your boyfriend now?" the first year repeats his question louder to talk over the others, turning the heads of their other dormmates.

Jamil stares awkwardly at the numerous Scarabia kids looking at him.

"I… well... Does that matter right now?"

"He's not denying it," sing-songs someone from the group.

"Aw, come on, boss! There's no need to be shy! We're only asking 'cause we're rooting for you two!"

"Yeah! We could prolly help too, if you let us in on the deets!"

Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's unnecessary. If you really wanna help, just don't pester Azul about any of this, okay?" He glances around to make sure no one else is listening in before he mumbles. "Just so you can stop asking, yes… I guess you can say we're dating now."

There are a few gasps, then scattered claps and cheers among his residents.

"I KNEW IT!" a sophomore pumps his fist in the air. "When he offered to tutor us with the study sheets, the payment he asked for was for us to stop setting up dangerous traps for you, boss."

"Yeah, he thought we wanted to kill you or something to take your place!" says his resident with a fondness for quicksand traps.

"Glad we sorted it out, though," says the one who usually paid attention to the study sheets. "He looked worried about you, Prefect."

"I'm so excited to learn from both of you, boss!"

"He's really cute," the first year says dreamily.

"Sshh!" another sophomore scolds him.

"What? I didn't say I wanna date him, I'm just saying Prefect has good taste!" the first year says defensively.

"SHUSH! SHHHH!" Jamil hisses at all of them, though he can't deny that there was something that felt nice to have his romantic interests be met with such enthusiasm. "Quit it! If you really wanna be supportive, then don't be embarrassing! Come on, gimme those make-up kits."

"You heard 'im, fellas! The sooner we get this finished, the sooner they can get back to their date!"

"YEAH!" Everyone exclaims.

Jamil sighs again and momentarily closes his eyes as he feels his face warm.

His residents maintain a giddy energy throughout their work, but to their credit they still did their jobs efficiently.

After making sure that everyone already has makeup on, Jamil wonders if he should check on Azul. He hasn't seen him ever since he went inside to help restock shelves, and Jamil realizes that he doesn't know whether Azul has taken a break yet, or exactly how many boxes he's had to lift already.

"All right, are you guys good to go?" Jamil asks the students.

There’s a scattered reply of “Yeah!”. 

"Okay, good. Just hit me up with a text if you guys run into any problems."

"Aye-aye, sir!"

Jamil then makes his way to Sam’s shop, already feeling worried about Azul. He better not be exerting himself too much in there…

"...We're not gonna be contacting Prefect, are we?" Test-Groaner asks Gossipmonger once Jamil was out of earshot.

"And ruin their first date as a couple? Hell no." Gossipmonger scoffs.

Jamil opens the door to the shop and he hears Sam's laughter along with Azul's; they seem to have just finished a conversation.

Sam says he'd go check the stocks in the back, and he leaves with a friendly wave.

Azul turns back to his work and stocks the shelf behind him. He had removed his coat and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows; the muscles in his arms and torso flex under his shirt as he reaches up to stock the topmost shelves.

A student in a vampire costume smoothly walks from one of the aisles and approaches Azul.

Pomefiore, Jamil thinks.

"Azul Ashengrotto, isn't it?" he asks, standing behind Azul.

Azul glances behind him and turns to face the student with a polite smile. "Yes, good morning."

"Hansel Finnegan, Pomefiore," he says in his silken voice, extending a hand.

"A pleasure to meet you," Azul takes the handshake, standing straight like a proper RSA student.

"Oh no, not yet," Hansel says with a low chuckle, then he smoothly bows and lifts Azul's hand, brushing his lips lightly against the back of it.

Azul's eyebrows raise in surprise, but Hansel takes a step closer to him before he can say anything.

"Will you be staying long?" Hansel asks. "I can show you around, the Pomefiore castle looks especially gorgeous this week," he tilts his head.

"Ah," Azul seems to realize Hansel's intentions, but he retains his polite smile. "Thank you, but I'm afraid I already have plans."

"Oh? No more room in your schedule for a neck-biting creature of the night, then?" Hansel says playfully, taking another step forward.

Azul subtly tries to put more distance between them, but his back hits the shelf.

Jamil was quick to act, eyes shooting daggers as he makes his way over and clamps a hand on Hansel's shoulder.

"Hey," he greets, trying to sound as neutral as he can. He doubts his eyes are looking anywhere near friendly, though. "If we're talking about schedules, I heard your Prefect's calling all the costumed students over to the Pomefiore booth. Gates are gonna open in ten minutes and I wouldn't wanna be late if I were you."

Hansel turns to look at him distractedly. "Huh? Oh, that's more than enough time." He turns to Azul again. "What do you say, Azul? Would you like to come with me and see our booth?"

"I'm still busy at the moment," Azul gestures to the shelf. "I'm sure I'll have time to visit the Pomefiore booth later today."

"Our booth would be swarmed once the gates open because of our Prefect. I’m sure you know who Vil Schoenheit is," Hansel says with an air of smugness. "If you come with me now, I can give you a private tour, I'll show you behind the scenes of our preparations," he smiles and flutters his eyelids, his glitter eyeshadow drawing more attention to the color of his eyes.

"Such hospitable treatment…" Jamil mutters, slipping in between the both of them. "Perhaps you're better off dedicating that energy to actual visitors. He's already got a tour guide. It's me. Now back off before I knock those fake dentures out of you."

Hansel looks taken aback at Jamil's words, then he sneers. "And what makes you think you'd be a better tour guide than me? You're not even in costume."

"Hansel," Azul speaks up. "We wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your Prefect. Perhaps you should go to your booth now."

Hansel clenches his jaw for a moment. "Alright. But I'll look for you again, Azul." He looks at Jamil. "You don't have sole claim to him."

Jamil makes a friendly smile, seeing that Hansel is making direct eye contact with him.

And at that moment, he activates his Signature Spell.

He doesn't even need to do the chant for a chump like Hansel.

"Jamil…?" Azul mutters behind him, confused at what's happening.

The smugness in Hansel's smile disappears as his face goes slack, his blank now-crimson eyes staring at Jamil.

"Are you sure that Azul is something to be claimed?" Jamil sweetly asks, tilting his head. "You don't actually mean that, right?"

Hansel pauses for a moment before he shakes his head.

"Shouldn't you apologize to him for spouting all that stupid stuff, then?"

Hansel stiffly turns to Azul and bows, remorseful. "I'm sorry for being such a pee-pee poo-poo head, Azul."

Jamil snorts, trying to keep his laughter in. "You're doing great, er... Hansel, right?"

"Yes, Master," Hansel perks up, looking up at Jamil with great reverence. "Thank you, Master."

Azul's mouth opens in surprise. "Jamil," he says in a playfully scolding tone. "Using your Signature Spell for something like this, really?"

Jamil smiles back at Azul. "I know. A very worthwhile endeavor, no?" He turns to Hansel. "You, every time you look at Azul, any sense of inappropriate urges you get leaves you tongue-tied and unable to speak. Understood?"

"Understood, Master," Hansel furiously nods.

"Great! Now then… Why don't you head on over to your booth and really play your part as a fun vampire for the visitors to enjoy? Your Prefect would really appreciate all your efforts, I'm sure."

"Yes, Master," Hansel says in determination and bows deeply to Jamil before walking out of the door.

Azul stares after him in awe, then looks at Jamil in concern. "Are you feeling alright? That's quite the powerful magic you just used."

Jamil shrugs, feeling fine. "Honestly, he's one of the easiest targets I've had in a long time. I'm okay, don't worry. More importantly, looks like you gotta stop being so desirable, otherwise I really might end up having to resort to all kinds of methods just to keep people from trying anything. Seriously, though, he was being a creep. Are you all right?"

"It was a little unsettling, but yes I'm alright," Azul reassures him. "And what part of this is desirable, exactly?" he says in a more playful tone. "I'm doing grunt work restocking shelves."

"Mm-hm, and you look good doing it, that's the problem," Jamil replies pointedly. "If I was restocking shelves and I didn't have my jacket while my sleeves were rolled up, how would you react?"

A smile appears on Azul's face, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, I don't know," he says in a feigned innocent tone. "Maybe you should try it so we can find out."

Jamil grins and shrugs. "You don't mind me just watching, do you? I already did all my grunt work outside." He does feel a little winded from all the running around they did while applying makeup and helping the other residents get in costume.

"Of course I don't mind, I'm almost done here, anyway," Azul says sincerely as he continues to stock the shelves.

Jamil glances around the interior to prevent himself from ogling his boyfriend too much. "By the way, other than that rude guy who just left, what do you think of this shop, as an aspiring business owner yourself?"

"It’s fascinating," Azul says. "Sam wasn't lying; it looks like you can find anything in here, stocking these shelves showed me that. I'm guessing you guys buy most of the stuff you need here?"

"Yep. Not once have I ever seen Sam run out of stock on something unless a whole dorm went and bought one specific item off of the shelves. Even then, they'd be fully restocked the next day... Not to mention that he seems to know what you're looking for even before you walk into his shop." He casts another glance around the shop's wares, suspicious this time. "Convenient, but a little unsettling… Do you guys have shops at RSA?"

"Perhaps that's part of his magic skills," Azul says, not sounding unsettled at all. "His shadow does seem to be sentient; I wouldn't be surprised if he has other powers that help him know what his customers want. And yes, we have shops at RSA, but they're different little shops for different things set up all over campus; instead of one big shop like this where you can find most things already."

He puts the last of the stocks on the shelves and brushes off his hands. He takes a step back and rests his hands on his hips, looking up and down the shelves.

"That looks proper enough, right?"

Jamil steps next to Azul and stares at the shelves before him. "I wouldn't know, since I don't know what's supposed to be stocked here, but... they seem perfectly fine to me. Look at you," he gives Azul an affectionate nudge on the shoulder. "Perhaps you'd make a good 'humble dockworker' hauling stuff around if the entrepreneur thing doesn't work out."

"Dockworker could work, everytime I need to renew my shifting potion I'd just jump in the water," Azul says playfully, then he walks over to the coat rack and takes his coat, draping it over his arm.

Jamil takes out a black glossy pamphlet and holds it out for Azul. "By the way, it's the stamp booklet. I managed to get one for you, just in time for—"

"Attention all students: Night Raven College's gates have now officially opened for visitors on Halloween Week's Second Day,” an announcement blares over the speakers outside.

"...That. C'mon, let's get the Scarabia stall stamped before we get swarmed with more people who could catch you looking this nice."

"’This nice'?" Azul asks as he and Jamil get out of the shop. "You do know this is just my school uniform. Every student in RSA wears this," he says in fond amusement.

"No, unfortunately even with the RSA coat trying to hide it, there's all this Azul charm going on around here." Jamil playfully gestures at the merman's face. "If I didn't know any better, I could say you're the one hypnotizing people towards you."

Azul laughs, his cheeks turning pink. "My, Jamil, are you saying you're feeling hypnotized by my charms?" he asks playfully through half-lidded eyes.

"As an expert on the subject, I have been for a long while now," Jamil replies, leaning forward to give Azul a kiss, beaming at the surprised and slightly flushed look on Azul’s face afterwards. "Now let's tell Sam we're heading off and get outta here already. Those booths aren't gonna explore themselves."

They bid goodbye to Sam—and his shadow—and head outside.

Author's Note:

For those who have read Chapter 14 of Granting Favors, you might recognize Hans of Pomefiore. Yes I did use the same OC in both fics. I just thought it would be funny for him to annoy Jamil in every universe 😌

<- Chapter 21

Chapter 23 ->

(Masterlist)

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[queen-scribbles]

From the Brink

27. passionate hand-holding [Vikkari/Arueshalae]

---

Vikkari woke up sore.

That in itself wasn't an unusual occurrence. Even before the Crusade, before he set to wandering, there were more than enough tasks on a farm like his family's to leave you with sore muscles come morning. And the life he'd led since striking out still made various levels of sore an occasional companion.

What was unusual was the deeper, painful ache in his side that registered a moment later.

More than a cramp, more than simple soreness, the sensation was akin to someone trying to pin him to the ground using his own ribs. It pulled a disoriented groan from him as he awoke and Vikkari instinctively curled in that direction. As if that would help.

"Hey, no, chief, you gotta--" Hands on his shoulders, pushing back, gentle but stubborn.

Vikkari fought them for a moment before giving in. The pain did, indeed, subside as he relaxed, blinking the world into focus. He was in a tent, in his bedroll, armor off, and a purple tiefling perched cross-legged on the ground next to him.

"Hey, chief." Woljif flashed an exaggerated grin that did absolutely nothing to hide the lingering worry in his eyes or the way his tail was twitching.

"Hey." His voice came out in a croak. Vikkari cleared his throat. "Why...?"

Why do I have to lie still? Why do I feel impaled? Why are you here but no one else? An ethereal green butterfly landed on his cheek and he reached by reflex to shoo it back into motion as he tried to decide which question to actually ask. Or at least ask first. They were all strong contenders.

"There's a piece of sword or stone or somethin' still stuck in your gut," Woljif said, tail flicking up to curl around his arm and then back down. "Sos is worried 'bout it causing more damage if you move too much before they get it out--think he was hopin' you'd stay out longer--but he and Seelah needed a break."

Vikkari stared at him blankly, not at all liking the implications of that flurried sentence.

Woljif frowned upon seeing his blank expression and leaned forward. "Do you not remember, boss?"

Before he could reply, the tent flaps were nudged aside as a scaly purple head shoved in, blue eye sparking with relief when they locked with his. "Vikkari!!" Aivu bellowed. She withdrew, but a moment later shoved her head back in the tent side closest to his bedroll.

"Hey, I'm gonna have to restake that now!" Woljif moaned, but the dragon ignored him.

She wriggled in far enough to nuzzle the side of Vikkari's face. "I'm glad you're awake! I was really worried and they wouldn't let me stay 'cause they said I'm too big!"

"You are too big," Vikkari said with a chuckle. Even that faint movement made his side twinge and he bit back a wince.

Aivu made a purring trill as she nuzzled a moment longer, the small cloud of butterflies increasing their circuit to include her, then bonked her head lightly against his shoulder. "You scared us!"

"Sorry...?" Vikkari mumbled, still trying to work out what he'd done.

"Don't tell me you forgot the gargantuan demon, chief," Woljif drawled--by way of a hint, he supposed.

He had, but the sardonic words nudged things into motion and it started coming back.

---

There wasn't much to be found here; the terrain too rocky and crisscrossed by dozens of ravines or crevasses. Not that the demonic forces seemed to care.

The derakni was massive-- twice as large again from normal. And unlike most of its ilk, it wielded a scythe, equally large and razor sharp. A few smaller demons, dretches and babaus, as well as cultist warriors, grouped around it as if waiting for orders. Or prey.

There was no attempt at bartering, no puffed-up banter. The locust demon gave an eager, guttural cry and launched itself at them.

Its minions scrambled to join in, but they were hardly a challenge. It was the aberration itself that posed the most danger. Frothing poison, wide swipes with its scythe, its droning wings beat against their sanity and its chitinous hide deflected their blows.

One of the cultists angled for Arueshalae and Lann and Seelah rushed to interpose herself, hands and blade both glowing with holy light. Her reckless charge protected the archers but left her open to the deranki.

Vikkari snapped off a spell in her defense, the orange rush of fire glancing off the demon's shoulder but fully catching its attention.

It hissed as it wheeled on him, too fast to react, the scythe piercing his side and slamming him to the ground. It used the weapon to reel him in, a wide, horrible grin splitting its face.

"Looks like the butterfly thinks it can play with the locusts," it sneered, free hand snapping up to extinguish one of the Elysian butterflies. Its grin widened as it peered at him. "Ah, Galfrey's pet butterfly, no l-"

It snarled as Aivu bit down on one of its back legs and kicked out to dislodge her.

Protective fury numbed the pain for long enough Vikkari channeled a burst of magic into the thing's face.

It howled and jerked the scythe in a harsh upward sweep. The hooked blade was deep enough in his side to fling Vikkari in the air before it tore free, and there wasn't much he could do beyond brace himself.

Landing was going to hurt.

---

"Locust-boy had a good arm," Woljif said with strained nonchalance, watching him process the memory. "Me an' Aivu took off on the path you got tossed while everyone else finished off tall, pissed, and bugly." He fiddled with a dagger, spinning the point in the dirt. "There was a minute or ten, weren't sure we'd find you," he admitted. "All those crevasses. Lots of places for you to slip outta sight."

"Well, clearly you did," Vikkari said, petting Aivu's head and neck.

"'Cause of them." Woljif flicked a hand up toward the circling, much diminished, kaleidoscope of ethereal butterflies. "Apparently they stick around even when you're, uh, out. And you were were really out."

"I thought you were dead!" Aivu interjected. "Only for a second, but it was really scary! Don't do that again!"

Vikkari patted her snout. "I'll do my best."

"So your dragon pal stayed with you, I ran back for the others, Sosiel and Seelah healed you up best they could, but we did just fight a bigass demon." Woljif shrugged, relief gleaming in his eyes despite the laidback façade. "The rest of us found a good spot to camp and set up while they rested. Also, Sos found that whatever-it-is in the wound an' wants to not be all shaky an' exhausted if he's gotta go digging it out."

"Yes, I'll appreciate that myself," Vikkari said dryly. Knowing what it--probably--was made it hurt more.

Woljif snorted a laugh. "I bet." His posture was much more relaxed. "Lann's keeping watch and your girlfriend's doin' her thing to camouflage the campsite from any other baddies that might be around."

Vikkari's neck warmed at the casual needling, but Woljif wasn't completely wrong, and it explained where Arueshalae was.

"Since I didn't have anything else to do, I got 'keep an eye on the chief and make sure he doesn't hurt himself if he wakes before the healers are ready to finish what they started' duty."

"Quite a mouthful of a title," Vikkari said lightly.

"Tell me about it," Woljif laughed. "But I don't mind."

The tent flaps parted and Sosiel leaned in with a smile. "I thought I heard voices. Good to see you awake, Commander."

"In large part thanks to you, as I understand it," Vikkari said. He could still see traces of weariness on his friend's face, but Sosiel didn't look ready to collapse from exhaustion at the moment. "Thank you."

"Of course," Sosiel nodded. "Though I didn't do it alone, Seelah was invaluable-"

"But Sosiel did the lion's share," Seelah interrupted to insist as she pushed past him into the tent. "Pulled you back right from the brink." She made shooing motions at the tiefling and the dragon. "Woljif, Aivu, out. There's not room for all of us, and we" --she gestured at Sosiel-- "gotta finish patching Vikkari up. You can bug him later."

Woljif didn't protest as he ducked out. "Unless someone else wants t' bug him first!" Aivu whined but also withdrew. Some of the butterflies went with her.

"It shouldn't take long to finish," Sosiel said, his smile now apologetic. "Just, with the battle..."

Vikkari waved off the the regretful tone. "I imagine there was a lot to fix." The derakni had flung him hard, and the fact he couldn't even remember hitting the ground meant it had likely been far from pleasant.

Seelah snorted a laugh, but the accompanying smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You could say that."

"Fortunately we were able to tend everything save the initial wound," Sosiel said. "It cracked if not fractured a rib, and I believe there's still a fragment of the scythe blade embedded, just needed to recover some energy before attempting... something to remove it."

"You don't have to justify it, Sosiel." Vikkari started to sit up until the cleric held up a warning finger. "I wouldn't want any of you burning yourselves out for me."

"Thank you, Commander." He and Seelah moved close, Sosiel kneeling and her plunking cross-legged by Vikkari's bedroll. Seelah reached for his hand and Vikkari sent her a quizzical look.

"I'm mostly moral support this time," she explained. "He had an idea, and from the sound of things, this is gonna hurt."

"Thanks for the warning," Vikkari deadpanned, gaze on Sosiel as he chanted a spell, one fist clenched.

A faint light briefly danced around the gauntlet he still wore on that hand, and then he held it out just over the wound. There was a jolt of blindingly sharp pain that had Vikkari biting back a curse and squeezing Seelah's hand hard enough to crush a more delicate one. She murmured what sounded like a prayer to Iomadae and the pain eased, but his grip stayed white-knuckle and the remaining butterflies swirled agitated circles in the air around them.

And a sharp-shiny something flew out of his side into Sosiel's waiting hand. "Ah, good, it was a fragment of the scythe."

"Good?" Vikkari managed between clenched teeth.

"Yes, because otherwise the spell wouldn't have worked and I would've had to dig something this size out of you." Sosiel held out the gauntleted hand, a glittering, bloodstained line of dark metal crossing the width of his palm. "I did not relish the thought of causing that level of prolonged pain, even in pursuit of healing." He set the gauntlet and weapon splinter aside, one hand now curling around his holy symbol and the other extended to the freshly bleeding wound in Vikkari's side.

There was nowhere near the same level of pain this time; the slight discomfort of bone realigning as the broken rib fixed itself, of flesh knitting back together. But then it was done, and the soothing warmth of magic retreated.

"There," Sosiel said, weariness more pronounced but smile still warm, "You should still rest tonight, as should we all, but everything is healed."

"Thank you," Vikkari said with a smile of his own. "Both of you." He gave Seelah's hand another squeeze, more grateful and less desperate. "For all your hard work."

"You're welcome." Sosiel checked the wound was fully healed and stood to leave. "I need to cast the protective wards before I turn in..."

"Just make sure you get some sleep," Seelah admonished, and he nodded as he departed.

"You look like you could use some yourself," Vikkari said as he shifted to a more comfortable position. Now that he was out of danger, he could lay in a way that didn't make his back and shoulders sore.

"You're not wrong," Seelah said with a small laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Broken bones have never been easy for me to mend, let alone a few in a row--"

"A few?" he echoed.

She sent him a you really wanna know? look. "Arm in two places, leg in three, few more ribs beyond the one from getting impaled, collarbone. Skull. Must've hit real hard." Her teasing laugh was a bit stilted. "Surprised you didn't leave a crater."

Vikkari's nose wrinkled. "That's... more than a few."

"Yeah. But we got it all fixed." She winked. "Good thing you're my best friend so you're worth."

He chuckled. As if you wouldn't do it for any of us. "Thank you, really."

"You'd do the same for me, and I know you were only its target 'cause you were watchin' my back."

"You'd do the same for me," Vikkari said, smiling as his mimicry earned him an eyeroll and light punch to the shoulder.

"In a heartbeat," Seelah said as she stretched, her gaze flicking to the tent entrance. "But you're right; I should go rest. Someone's gotta take your watch tonight-"

Vikkari opened his mouth to protest he could sit and watch the surroundings even if he was still recovering.

"-and I think you have another visitor," she finished with a grin as she pushed to her feet.

He took the hint to look and couldn't stop a smile at the familiar silhouette--horns, glittering red eyes, leathery wings folded close to her back as she lurked in the doorway.

"Iomadae's left pauldron, you're smitten," Seelah snickered, and Vikkari shrugged rather than argue, which made her laugh again. "I'm done with him, Arueshalae, he's all yours."

There was a small gasp of surprise and Arueshalae smiled shyly as she slipped into the tent after Seelah departed. "I didn't want to intrude..."

"You aren't," Vikkari assure her, pushing himself up to a sitting position. "I was just thanking her for her part in saving my life."

A worried--and adorable--little frown furrowed her brow for a moment, and Arueshalae headed for the spot Seelah had occupied with steps rapid yet somehow hesitant, her wings folded in close to manage the confines of the tent. "It was... terrifying," she whispered. There was no similar hesitance to the fervor with which she took his hand and squeezed, her fingers almost hot enough to burn. "You scared us."

"So I've heard from several sources." Vikkari squeezed her hand back, thumb running over her knuckles in an almost-caress.

"You scared me," she said softly, biting her lip.

"And I'm very sorry for that," he said just as softly. He tugged up his shirt to show the unblemished skin (despite the bloodstain marring the fabric). "But I'm alright now." He tried not to dwell on the litany of broken bones Seelah had reeled off as he caught Arueshalae's gaze and squeezed her hand again. It did make sense of how rattled all of them seemed, though. "I am, Arueshalae, I promise."

"You weren't." The words were so quiet he barely caught them. "You-" Arueshalae swallowed, her hot, delicate fingers briefly brushing his cheek. "It was so close, Vikkari. Your eyes were so dim--dark--and I hated it and it scared me so badly--" She caught a shuddering breath, gaze dropping to their linked hands. "And it's worse because I-I shouldn't..."

Vikkari's heart squeezed, seeing her so distressed. Yes, you should. "I am sorry I scared you, truly I am. I wish I could promise never to do it again. But I can't, not with the lives we lead, the goal we seek to accomplish. I promise to do my best, and" --he tipped her chin back up-- "my eyes will always shine for you, if I have any say in the matter."

She blushed ducked her head again, studying their hands, tracing an old whittling scar on his. "That's... Thank you. It's very sweet and I know it's the best you can promise." She continued tracing his knuckles, his palm. "You're always sweet, and so kind and... I was praying," she admitted abruptly.

He waited out the pause that followed.

"The whole time I was working to disguise the camp. Panicked, inarticulate little things." Arueshalae gave a small, shaky laugh, pressing both of her hands tight around his. "Desna, don't let him die. Or let him be alright, we still need him. For Seelah and Sosiel to have what they needed." She met his gaze, eyes shining with relief and unshed tears. "I'm... glad She listened, despite me being me."

"Of course She did," Vikkari said, softly, gently. "You're a good person, and you were asking for a good thing." He huffed a wry laugh. "Selfish as that may sound coming from me."

She shook her head. "No, it's-- We... the Crusade needs you."

"And you still have me," he promised, not entirely referring to the Crusade with his reassurance. He watched a teal butterfly alight on one of her horns and bit back a smile.

"I know," Arueshalae nodded. "I just needed to remind myself of that." She looked down at their hands, let one of hers slide away. "But I should let you rest now..."

Despite the implied intention, she didn't let go of his hand, barely loosening the rest of her grip.

Vikkari smiled, gave her hand another squeeze. He'd be lying to deny weariness setting in, but, "You can stay, if you want. I'd rather your company than be alone." He meant it, and her reluctance made him think she would prefer that as well.

The shy smile that bloomed across her face confirmed his suspicion. "Alright."

Their reluctance to release each other's hands made laying back down a bit tricky, but Vikkari managed. He shifted to his side so the angle wasn't a strain for either of them.

"Sweet dreams," Arueshalae whispered, and he drew her hand close to kiss her knuckles as he felt the exhaustion of the long day--and ordeal he'd been through--creeping up on him.

He dreams were very sweet, indeed.

But even sweeter was finding her still there come morning.

#queens fic #pathfinder wotr #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #vikkari damson #arueshalae #vikkarue #otp: true freedom #this is extremely late act 3 btw #so they aren't A Thing yet but everyone and i mean *EVERYONE* knows they like each other #seelah and woljif tease the most #but they all see it #wotr

[slaybestieslay946]

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him. 

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way. 

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were. 

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself. 

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick. 

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you. 

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away. 

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed. 

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for. 

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food. 

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden. 

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet. 

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement. 

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it. 

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt. 

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it. 

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.” 

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes. 

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so. 

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still. 

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother. 

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind. 

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you. 

He was right, they had to go. 

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way. 

*

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb. 

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him. 

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here. 

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre. 

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment. 

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that. 

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself. 

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work. 

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again. 

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself. 

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands. 

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.” 

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.” 

“And you would give that to her?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.” 

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.” 

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.” 

“And if I do? Look back?” 

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.” 

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months. 

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again. 

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules. 

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him. 

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him. 

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy. 

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently. 

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder. 

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would. 

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him. 

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #angst #mitski #mitski circle #mitski lyrics

[smuttyfang]

Jack, Protective Over You

Ahhhh these are all so good. I’d love to read something nsfw with Smiling JackXreader! Great job :)

Words: 578

"Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Jack was ecstatic. He had been teaching you how to fight, just in case he was elsewhere and someone tried to come after you.

... Most people would know better than to mess with Smiling Jack's woman, but as Jack told you, "There's a lot of god damned idiots out there who don't know who they're dealing with."

You landed one hell of a punch on the punching bag, busting a hole in it. Stuffing fell out all over the floor.

"Good job, sweet cheeks. I'm proud of ya." He pulled you by your waist and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Good thing Nines taught you how to throw your punches better."

"I'm glad he took the time to show me." You tried relaxing yourself by stretching, the adrenaline still going throughout your body.

It was actually kind of awesome being Jack's girlfriend. All the Anarchs protected you no matter what. Even if Jack wasn't with you, one of them would almost always accompany you if you went anywhere. Even so, they still taught you how to fight and defend yourself. Hand to hand, guns, you had even been taught a little bit with a sword. Not only that, but you also had your own little room at the Last Round they let you have. It was just a small room, a section in the upper level they had put a Japanese screen door up. It was next to the bathrooms but of course, it was mostly only you and a few ghouls using them. So it never bothered you. There was actually a strange charm to it all.

"You know, I have to say.." You rolled your neck around, trying to loosen your muscles, "Hand to hand is your favorite I know, a good old fashioned brawl. But I love using the sword. There's something graceful about it." He laughed, leaning against the wall.

"What isn't graceful about popping someone's eye out of its socket? It's beautiful, could bring tears to the eyes." You rolled your eyes at him. "I know, I know what you're saying. It just ain't my thing. You look damn good doing it though. That focus you have is something else to watch."

"Flatterer. You have such a way with words." You say, only slightly sarcastically.

"I can be pretty damn romantic when I want." He approached you, holding you in his rough grip and leaning you back, like you were dancing. You giggled.

"In your own way, yes you can. Never in front of anyone else though. Gotta keep up that image." He lifted you back up, picking up your whole body. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist.

"I can't just let people know about me having a soft side! Can you imagine the rumors?" He began walking, ending up pressing your back against a nearby wall. It made you gasp, the combination of the pressure and the coldness. "Besides, I'm not always soft and gentle when it comes to you. Am I?" He took your arms and gripped them hard, pushing them against the wall above your head with only a single hand. His other hand was trailing its way to your throat. He squeezed the sides of your neck ever so slightly. Slightly as a thrill, somewhat as a threat. "After watching you get all sweaty and seein' that adrenaline going, I kinda feel like being rough with you right now.."

AO3

#vampire the masquerade #vtm #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #VTMB #smiling Jack x reader #smiling Jack #scenario #fanfic #implied smut

[the-carlos-cow-eyes]

ALRIGHT, LAST IDEA.

WHAT IF DEVON FOUGHT AGAINST A POSSESSED-BY-CHUCKY ANDY??

Okay, Devon knew he was fucked.

Like, royally fucked. Somehow, someway, Chucky managed to possess Andy and ruin the trio's chances of having a normal summer. Andy, somehow, got access to a sword while Devon didn't have any weapons. Hell, all he was wearing was a pair of swim-shorts, sandals and the popsicle stick in his mouth from just being in the pool at the hotel they were staying at.

"You still don't know who I am?" Andy asked, a smile on his face.

Devon scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, and you're Chucky." He spoke. "So, you don't only go after possessing underaged teens like the creep you are."

"No, of course not." Andy said. "And I don't think you have ANY right to call someone a creep when you, are a pervert yourself."

Devon frowned. "Don't try to bring my personal shit into this. None of that matters!"

"Well, I guess you do have a point. What only matters is me killing you." Andy said, making Devon hold back a laugh.

"Really? Try it then."

That's when the fight really began. Andy swung the sword, Devon easily dodging. Then he swung again, and again and again, Devon using simple dodging techniques and ending up behind the man, taking the popsicle stick out of his mouth and flicking it on the floor.

Chucky scoffed, before swinging the sword again, Devon dodging and ending up behind the man again, kicking his sandals off, one foot in front of the other, hands up. But that didn't stop the other as he swung again, eventually leading Devon to start running. The place they were at was too small for him to actually fight the man.

Where would he go, though? Which place has the most space?

That's when it clicked. Going upstairs and dodging the occasional swing or thrust of the sword, Devon ran into one of the adult's bars, which thankfully - no one was rarely in.

Even while in the bar, Devon kept his same moves. Weaving and dodging, dodging and weaving. Now, he stood on a couch, still dodging before grabbing the man's shoulder and jumping, pushing Chucky on the couch in the process and landing on his feet.

It was a temporary setback, but Chucky got back up, almost immediately. He came swinging again, and Devon grabbed a small coffee table, which the man cut through that.

He got up, still dodging as Chucky's attacks grew relentless, kicking him when Devon least expected it. Thankfully, Devon dodged but it led him to getting knocked into the bar, setting off flickering and bright party lights.

Even in the flickering, Devon could see the man smirking. "Hey, I gotta give you credit when credit is due, Dev. You're actually not bad, not bad at all." He complimented, but Devon couldn't help but rolling his eyes.

"Say, what'd you do before this?" He asked.

Devon paused, before deciding to answer. "I was a podcast host. I still am."

Chucky tilted his head, as Devon got into a similar fighting stance. "Well? Bring it, doll."

It was complete silence, before Chucky charged in, Devon once again dodging the swing and hitting the man twice in his stomach, staggering Chucky back.

But unfortunately, that possessing motherfucker just didn't know when to quit. But then, he looked at Devon's forearm, a smile on his face. Devon looked down, seeing the open wound.

Chucky managed to cut him.

Devon knew he had to disarm him, one way or another. So when Chucky just charged it, it was almost perfect. Clearly he knew how to use a sword, but not as well as Devon originally thought.

That's when the real combat began.

When Chucky charged it, Devon grabbed his wrist, setting in down on the floor, harshly. But Chucky could see was he was doing, grabbing the back of the boy's neck and spun them around, but Devon managed to kick the sword across the room last minute.

As expected, Chucky immediately went for the sword, feeling arms wrap around his neck as Devon at the very least tried to weaken him. Obviously, compared to a grown man, Devon had a disadvantage.

It led to the 17-year-old constantly blocking hit from behind the other, and just as Chucky was about to turn around, Devon jumped and kicked him in his chest, again, staggering him back..

Chucky had to admit, Devon was good. Better than he thought he was. He had taken Jake for someone who knew how to fight, but Devon? The twink?

He looked around, seeing discarded glass bottles.

Well, this just got easier.

Quickly, he got up and starting throwing them, left and right, not even for real aiming at Devon. When it came to dodging techniques, and strength, Chucky would say Devon was better than most boxers his age. Not to mention his punches felt like he was fighting a grown ass man.

Devon dodged, trying his best not to get hit, when Chucky just stopped, looking at his work. There was only a small circle of clear floor, the rest of it was glass. If Devon tried to fight, he would most likely step on it, weakening his fighting abilities and Chucky would kill him.

In short, Chucky set a trap, and Devon was a dumbass and walked into it. He could see the smirk on his face, the man being the only one wearing shoes as he picked up his sword.

"Let me guess, I bet you were one of those guys who constantly got into fights as a kid, aren't ya?" He asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not" Devon responded. "But, enough about me. Why don't you tell me something about you? About your past."

Chucky chuckled. "That's the thing Devon," He began. "Unlike most killers, I don't have a sobstory. I...don't have a past."

One second.

Two seconds.

That's when Devon started laughing, almost doubling over and laughing, loudly. It took him a while to get his composure back, as Chucky just looked at him unamused.

"Ah-hah. I'm sorry, really, I am." He apologized, wiping a tear from his eye. "It's just...now I think I finally get it." Devon began. "I guess, I hate to admit, but we're similar like that. We both despise or don't care for our pasts. You've completely turned your back on yours, as I have. But fuck that, now that's being a coward."

Chucky almost laughed. "What? Gonna start a therapy session now?"

"Nope. I'm gonna be honest," He began. "All this time, I've let you have control over me. Because you knew my past, you knew I was dangerously talented. And you used that, because you knew I was afraid of the people I loved leaving me because of it. You refuse to acknowledge your past, but me...I have no choice but to embrace mine. Accept what happened, what I did. Accept...me, I guess."

Chucky just laughed.

Devon took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He spread his feet apart, hands up and open to take anything. 'I'm staying calm,' He thought. 'Just like you taught me, Mom.'

He didn't care that he was opening himself to attack, or just relying on instinct. This was acceptance, this was bravery. As Chucky charged, Devon only turned his head, dodging the sword before disarming the man and elbowing him in the neck.

This is when he opened his eyes.

Quickly, he kicked the man in his chest and onto the ground. And with a grunt, quickly non-mercifully punched him, knocking both Chucky and Andy out cold.

"I didn't hesitate," he said out loud. "Just like you told me, Dad."

Thoughts?

Holy shit, I love this!!

#badass devon my beloved <3 #devon evans #andy barclay #charles lee ray #chucky on syfy

[yiga-hellhole]

ship opinion bingo with gan-based ships

rauru/gan

sonia/gan

zelda/gan

link/gan

bonus : kohga/gan and demise(or Ganondorf hw)/ghirahim

the whole shebang, huh? here we GOOOOO!!!!

RAURU/GANONDORF

AND WE HAVE A BINGO! so i haven't finished totk but bro. bro. holding your arch nemesis by the tits for 10.000 years. yeah something happened there. i adore a good divorce ship, and this is the one where the divorcees just keep coming back to each other because the homoeroticism is too on the nose. i see it. i see it. i see it.

SONIA/GANONDORF

again, haven't finished totk. i have only seen sonia in like two cutscenes thusfar. but i love it when women get to be pissed off at huge burly men and in doing so get to be recognized as a viable threat. so i will be rotating this one in my mind on the backburner until i'm more informed on their canon dynamic and each characters' backstories in the game

ZELDA/GANONDORF

this is one of those ships where i don't really care for it but some people do interesting stuff with it and i see what they're going for. the fun with zelda and ganondorf is that he doesn't necessarily want her, but wants everything that she has. this old man is so fucking jealous of someone half his age at minimum. so honestly the age difference is a bit too big and dynamic is a bit too antagonistic for me to actively like this ship. i guess i can see it playing out as a bodice-ripper type story, but that goes against nando's character to me, and i've never quite been fond of them in the first place. something like an arranged-marriage-turned-something-more or a hyrule warriors esque wartime romantic tension could work. they *are* entangled eternally in a cycle of being tied by soul, but fated to be enemies each time. at some point something could spark i guess. but at the end of the day its a solid "eh" from me

LINK/GANONDORF

the same kind of arguments as zelda/ganondorf, but instead of royal diplomacy, link has a sword. again there's gotta be something about being the one prpphesized to slay the same guy cycle after cycle. maybe in one of the cycles, he won't want to...? how scandalous. but generally, i don't care too much for this ship

BONUS ROUND!

KOHGA/GANONDORF

i love divorce and i love horny old men thirsting over big buff dudes. i have a feeling kohga has a thing for large and bulky men, for no reason at all, that's not at all present in the game. so, in botw i see ganon's worship as a purely "riding-on-the-coattails-of" thing where kohga doesn't actually care much about ganon, he just wants a reason to make his personality cult and have an ez way to overthrow the monarchy. when that fails, he ditches the joint. but then ganondorf awakens into this absolute handsome beefcake and the illustrious master kohga would probably be like. "okay. hold on. Pause." and the rest is history. i see it. i havs the vision.

GHIRADEMI/GANGHIRA

this has already been answered in the ghirademi bingo. but if you go for ganghira, there's the added tension of "you remind me of the man i devoted myself to, and his presence lingers within you", which would definitely have some serious emotional weight to ghirahim. but that i don't see reciprocated, once again, given that ganondorf always pursues power first. and this time there's not even the shared bond that ghirademi has, where ghirahim served as his sword for centuries! they basically just met, and all ganon knows is this sword freak is devoted to him! oh ghirahim, stop going after men who terrify you!!

#madman's rambling #asked and answered #beeptic #as you can see i can generally see the appeal in every ship and i barely ever have hard no's #but triforce shipping typically doesnt do it for me!! #just a bit too much for me!! some people do it well and others do it awfully. and me i dont do it at all :3