#ambrosia heights

[ambrosiaheights]

Character Profile: Emmaline

Art by me (main: @diabolical-blue)

Emmaline is the main character of Ambrosia Heights and the only POV character (the story is told exclusively from her perspective).

Appearance: Emmaline has blond hair, green eyes, pale skin, and is 5'8" tall.

— 🌹 —

Emmaline’s family and friends would describe her as quiet, reserved, even shy. However, that surface-level passiveness masks a headstrong, stubborn spirit and a fiery temper which only emerges in dire circumstances or in cases of disturbing injustice. When particularly provoked, she can even be prone to violent outbursts, but she bottles up her more explosive emotions to keep these at bay.

Her socially reclusive background and sometimes hard-to-love personality are not the only obstacles standing in the way of what she wants more than anything else. As someone with no desire for physical intimacy, but a deep desire for an emotionally intimate and committed lifelong partnership, Emmaline has faced misunderstandings and hurtful assumptions her entire life - leaving her feeling like her dreams of companionship will never be more than a far-flung fantasy.

She wasn’t always this cynical, though. From a young age, Emmaline possessed a deep love of the sort of fantasy stories and fairy tales where everything works out in the end. In fact, when she was ten years old, she thought she actually met someone who came from a world much like the ones in her stories: a blue-skinned elf child who needed help finding his way home through a portal hidden on her grandmother’s estate. Unfortunately, the ensuing twenty years of complicated family drama and a miserably unfulfilling adult life has led Emmaline to wonder if most of that magical childhood experience was just her imagination - until the night of her thirtieth birthday, when she finds herself unexpectedly transported to that very world herself.

— 🌹 —

Random facts about Emmaline:

Though not particularly confident with her own social skills, when Emmaline is interacting with someone who is even more shy and reserved than herself, her instinctual reaction is to take the lead for both of them, giving her the false appearance of a naturally confident or even dominating person.

Emmaline has no interest in fashion and dresses herself solely for comfort. In her own world, she’s most commonly seen wearing a t-shirt, jeans or shorts, and sometimes a plaid flannel shirt. She doesn’t usually feel comfortable in dresses or skirts and tends to avoid them if possible. The most consistent part of her wardrobe is a silver necklace with a rose-shaped pendant she received as a gift on her tenth birthday.

She has had a special interest in technology from a young age. Though no “tech genius” by any means, she still enjoys figuring out how electronic gadgets work and even taught herself how to repair her own phone.

She is pretty attached to her smartphone and keeps much of her favorite content offline - movies, songs, video clips - especially when preparing for a long trip which might involve unreliable Internet access.

From a young age, Emmaline fell into the role of “keeping the peace” between her parents, who oftentimes didn’t get along. Her mother in particular would use Emmaline as her confidante and would vent to her about her troubles in an oftentimes inappropriate capacity.

Emmaline is an only child and had a very lonely and isolated childhood. She was homeschooled, never attended a traditional school, and never really made any friends her own age. She took comfort in the fictional worlds of her favorite books instead, and would often daydream about befriending the elf boy she thought she met when she was ten years old.

Emmaline has a religious background due to her parents' beliefs (particularly her mother's), but is undecided about where she stands on many of those beliefs personally now that she is older and living independently.

Her parents were apocalypse preppers who believed the end times were imminent, and prepared their off-the-grid homestead accordingly. Although Emmaline wasn't always sure if she believed them, their beliefs still had a significant impact on her development, leaving her feeling disillusioned and unprepared for an adulthood she wasn't even sure she was going to be alive to see.

— 🌹 —

An excerpt from chapter 4 in which Emmaline ponders her frustrations about her upbringing (third-person narrative observations, not first-person internal thought):

So she would do what she was told, because she didn’t have a choice. She wouldn’t express her anger when she got upset. But she would still feel it. Every injustice, every hypocrisy she witnessed, every freedom that was limited or taken away from her, every hopeless tear shed as she pondered her grim future under her parents’ unrelenting control – it was just pushed deep down, shoved into the far corners of her soul, ever boiling and festering but utterly ignored. Like a volcano rumbling, rumbling, rumbling in the background, spewing the occasional bout of steam or ash, but never permitted to fully erupt.

#can you tell her anger issues are going to be a problem in a world which utilizes the emotions-influence-magic trope 👀 #i'm not always one to stick tropes in for no reason but this meshes well with the character arc i have planned so that's why i'm using it #btw these outfits are sequential she starts out in the 'real world' before entering the world with the medieval fantasy aesthetic #emmaline #character bio #character profile #asexual #acespec #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writblr #writing #original fiction #my art #ambrosia heights

[brosif40]

finally got around to revisiting this, so here's all their humanoid forms :3 yaay yippee

(They'd prefer their true forms in canon ofc, I just like to have fun here yaay)

#my art #caligo #astrapés #brutus #gelid #sol #ambrosia #the fool #oc #ocs #not accurate heights- bc im lazy

[grimm-writings]

Hi there!

I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?

“stop licking the damn thing!”

…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks

…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794

…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy! 

Laios

“Ooh, can I have a lick?”

His ass does NOT give a fuck.

You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.

Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.

He may not fully take in all the information you give him.  This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.

Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it.  Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.

Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”

Overall, Laios simply does not judge!  He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!

(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)

Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand.  Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you.  You still for a second.  Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you.  You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour.  He hums and tilts his head to you.  “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position.  “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…

Marcille

Sorry she is so judgemental.

You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.

Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.

She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.

Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”

She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes. 

Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more.  It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.

She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it.  There’s a science behind it, after all…

Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself.  Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?”  She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too.  You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be.  You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger.  “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it.  You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that.  “For… me?”  She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks.  As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact.  “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine!  I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm.  Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.”  You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.

Chilchuck

Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…

…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.

He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments.  You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!

Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”

Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth.  Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.

Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…

If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.

Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…

He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.

Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you.  It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here.  What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick.  The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste.  Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?”  You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice.  On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed.  “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes.  You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point.  “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion.  “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint.  Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,”  Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again.  “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears.  How embarrassing…

Senshi

Also winning the dgaf war I fear.

He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.

It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.

You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.

(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)

One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished!  Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.

Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!

You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.

Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!

“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones.  “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic.  The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans.  Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions!  I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face.  He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him.  Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well…  If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!

Izutsumi

“Why are you eating rocks?  Looks gross.”

Make way for the #1 hater…

Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.

You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.

She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.

“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”

…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.

Jail for reader.  Jail for 1000 years.

She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t…  It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.

“Come on, Izu, just give it a try!  I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!”  She shoots back. You pause.  “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be.  Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice.  You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste.  She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water.  She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you.  What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you… 

#✮ grimm's fics! #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios touden x reader #laios #laios x reader #laios touden imagines #laios imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #marcille donato x reader #marcille donato #marcille x reader #marcille delicious in dungeon #marcille dungeon meshi #marcille donato imagines #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #senshi #senshi of izganda #senshi x reader #senshi imagines #izutsumi

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ #love #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo series #percy jackson show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagines #percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #pjo tv series

[the-floral-perspective]

EJ’s Obsession

::breeding kink, overstim, clinginess, stalker vibes, perv vibes (if you squint.) (Jack is 6’6 in this fic so automatically you’re prob shorter) some plot, some fluff

X fem reader

Eyeless Jack loves watching.

Staring.

He specifically likes staring at you. You were a pretty little thing. At least to him you were, his unnatural height added to that factor.

Jack first noticed you when getting back from a mission. He was walking back to the mansion and noticed you. You had been dangerously close to the portal, but you were laying on a rock, only wearing your cotton black undergarments.

You hadn’t noticed him. He was too dark to see and too quiet to hear. The moonbeam glistened on your skin and your hair seemed to be dried (assuming from the wet patch on the rock.)

Jack had thought you a goddess.

Strange occurrences had started happening around the mansion. Jack had been leaving a lot, Ben had done some snooping and found he’d won the heart of some strange girl.

He also found panties (presumably yours) that were washed and in jacks drawer.

Jack started a habit of stealing your underwear after sex, he’d masturbate with it later and return it back to you afterwards.

Ben would not care about this detail, but he did find a lot of pictures of you sleeping on jacks phone. He only put jacks phone down after seeing the ‘relationship’ folder full of nudes you’ve sent Jack.

Ben wouldn’t be doing that again.

On the other hand, Jack had been on a rule. Within three months he managed to sweep you off your feet (despite his odd appearance.)

Luckily, your sweet self was able to look past that. Which actually, you found him to be really hot, in a forbidden type of way you wouldn’t understand.

And the night came, where you and Jack had sex for the first time. He filled you up so perfectly, you had a slight bulge on your stomach from him.

Though that night unlocked a monstrous side in Jack, of which you never really saw coming.

After that night, Jack couldn’t get enough of you. Sure, he’d respect when you didn’t want sex, but fuck. He never complained when you didn’t.

Jack was ideal for you, he still is. Respectful as always, but a little more harsh whenever you do have sex.

There were times where Jack would not leave your cunt, simply because he just loved feeling you. Or eating you. God, he fucking loved eating you out.

You tasted the sweetest, Jack wanted nothing more than to combine your bodies. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of you, ever. Not in a million years. Jack was dead set on you and only you.

Whenever you guys started getting heated, Jack would have to remind you of how carried away he gets and ask if it was alright for him to cum in you tonight. He’d never stop asking, just in case.

Once he started in you, he couldn’t stop. You’d know, being underneath him and sometimes on top of him. Jack can’t restrain himself from pleasuring you sometimes.

He repetitively cums in you, eats you out, cums in you again like a vicious cycle. Somehow he always stops at the right time.

When your clit is sore, and your cunt can’t stop spasming. Your eyes are watering and your pussy weeping just the same.

His cum seeping out of you like an endless stream. Your puffy pussy exhausted and red. One final time, Jack eats you out. Your cunt already sore everywhere, but somehow, his tongues manage to find a new spot to find pleasure and abuse.

Jack cleans you up, sucking on your clit slowly, while his other tongues make their way inside you. Understanding your soreness, but still soothing and pleasuring it. He doesn’t speed up his pace, knowing your limits. One of his tongues lap up your walls slowly and greedily, while the other stays rested flat on your clit moving very slowly.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, breaking your mind and body. White heat flashes through your pussy, as it soaks jacks face once more. Where his cum once was, is now replaced by your ambrosia.

Thank birth control, right? Let’s hope it still works against demon cum.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack #eyeless jack smut

[melrodrigo]

lunch - t.c. drabble

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You want to recreate Lunch with your girlfriend.

A/n: This was purely for my entertainment. Tell me ur favs from the album?

It was Billie Eilish’s fault.

It definitely wasn’t yours, turning on the new HIT ME HARD AND SOFT album and skipping to Lunch for something to listen to while you watched your own girlfriend make lunch. You’d been more than obsessed with the snippet she let out recently, and Tara had suffered the consequences.

The rays peeked through the window and reflected her brown hair, making it a shiny auburn—a color you adored. Tara in the sun was something you couldn’t believe you were around to witness, almost daily at this point, watching as her dark brown eyes sparkled and shone. The tan skin that would turn olive at the right angle, and lips that brightened with the sun.

You couldn’t lie—the vibrations of the music mixed with Tara’s tied up hair and pink cheeks were enough to have you feeling some type of way.

It definitely didn’t help that she was lip syncing and swaying to the song ever so slightly, smirking a little whenever she looked up and caught your eye.

You make your decision in a split second. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done you think, coming up with this stupid plan.

You saunter over to Tara, trying to act nonchalant. She eyes you a little but lets it go when she sees you stop at the head of the kitchen table and sitting down.

“If I could, I would totally eat you for lunch.” You lean over to wrap your hands around your girlfriend and whisper in her ear, trying (and failing) to sound sexy.

“Gee thanks, what a charmer you are.” Tara says and hides the soft smile that comes naturally.

Luckily for her, you could only see one side of her face, the lopsided smile hidden on the either side. You let out an unimpressed huff.

“Okay but for real I totally would.” You try again, snaking your head and letting it rest in the crook of her neck, peppering the tender skin with light kisses.

Tara hums a little and continues cooking, continuing to sway to the music. She’s made up her mind already, but it’s nice to see you beg and grovel a little more.

“I love it when you cook.” You mumble against her, gripping her waist and urging her to turn around.

She gives up on trying to make food a few seconds later when she can tell you aren’t going anywhere.

You draw her in, cheeky smile while you stare at her lips shamelessly. Those perfect lips, tasting to you like how ambrosia would to a mortal; it’s near fatal. She fits right in between your thighs, her small frame easy to maneuver.

Tara was insecure about her height. Something you tried to show time and time again was nothing—in fact, you enjoyed the height difference a little too much to admit—always made Tara moody on a particularly shitty day.

“God, I love you.” You tell her, eyes finally shifting up to her eyes. Her eyes twinkle; you know you’re close to getting her to crack.

“You’re so desperate.” She whispers, leaning into you. It isn’t meant as an insult, and you don’t take it as one.

It was merely the truth; and you hated that she knew it.

“You need a seat? I’ll volunteer.” You sing along, letting go of one of Tara’s hands to point to your face, giggling as Tara rolls her eyes.

The sight of the brunette getting closer is enough to get you to stop.

“Still hungry?” She asks, and you think you might just die. It takes everything in you not to salivate openly. She’s tilting her head, a sign she’s decided she’s won.

So maybe you really owed Billie Eilish a kudos, you think as Tara stands up and drags you out of the room.

“Thank god Jojo Siwa invented gay pop.” You say, laughing a little nervous. It was a bad habit of yours to joke when you got excited.

It seems to fall on deaf ears, the girl in front of you not paying attention to any of the words pouring out your mouth now.

“What-what about lunch?” You gesture to her unfinished cooking wildly, knees buckling against her frame pushing you against her bedroom door.

“Fuck lunch.”

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #billie eilish #melrodrigo

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | wc: 290 | tags: semi-public sex, rockstar!eddie | written for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round ‘birthday’ in honor of @steddieas-shegoes's birthday)

Honestly, there aren't many things left on Eddie's bucket list. He's met his musical idols, he's been kissed by a hot jock under the bleachers, he's been to the ocean, he's joined the Mile High Club (also with said hot jock, who also happens to be the love of his life).

Tonight, Eddie will check off one of the last items on that list: fuck Steve on stage after a Corroded Coffin concert.

He told Steve about this dream he had one night after getting drunk to celebrate his first record deal. Eddie told it like it was a big joke, but Steve, of course, knew better.

"Stevie, baby, I love you so much. I can't believe you're letting me do this," Eddie pants, his voice echoing through the empty hall, the only sound except for the slap of skin against skin and their heavy breathing. They're in the middle of the stage and Steve is riding him on the same chair where he stood a few hours ago and played his heart out in front of thousands of fans. All the spotlights are on them, adding to the heat building up between them, and they're both drenched in sweat.

He can still feel the crowd watching them and it only spurs him on to reach for Steve's hard cock to take him to the heights of Olympus itself. They're both gods, licking the ambrosia that spills between them as Steve comes from Eddie's hand.

"Happy birthday, baby." Steve grins at him, licking his lips like the cat that caught the canary, and Eddie has never been more in love with this impossible man.

There's only one thing left on his list: To marry Steve, the love of his life.

#steddie #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #semi public sex #happy birthday Mick! #my writing #nsft

[your-honor-im-zesty]

Forgiveness Is A Luxury

"I swear to the gods, Solace, if you mess this shit up-"

Pop.

"AUGH!"

"Hold still, Clarisse."

The brunette snarled, and for a moment Will was convinced she would skewer him with her spear. He gave a placating smile. "Sorry."

"Fuck you." Clarisse's expression indicated that she was definitely about to skewer him with her spear.

Will pretended not to notice. "The shoulder should be sore for a little while, just take some ambrosia and you should be fine."

"You enjoyed that," she accused, reaching a hand to rub her shoulder. It had been dislocated moments before, and Will had just popped it back into place. She winced, flexing her bicep a little. "Shit. Can I still spar like this?"

Will almost rolled his eyes; to think that sparring was the first thing on her mind was exasperating. Ares kids. Did they never think of anything else? "Probably not. You should wait 3-4 days before doing anything physically taxing. Maybe do something else, like pottery-"

"Pottery? I'm going to kill Sherman!" Clarisse growled, rising from her chair. She towered over Will by at least a few inches, and he was struck with the urge to stand on his tiptoes, as if it were some sort of height contest. For the gods' sake. "Thanks, Solace, I guess."

"Don't be too rough on Sherman," he replied. She made a rude gesture (so civilized), snatched up her spear, and stalked off (presumably to go yell at poor Sherman- Will suspected he knew who the next patient in the infirmary would be). As she left, she passed by a stumbling, bruised-faced dark haired boy.

"Percy," Will greeted him, careful to keep his voice neutral.

Though he would never admit it, his feelings toward Percy were...complicated. On one hand, Percy was the savior of Olympus, survivor of Tartarus, legendary hero to rival even the ancient ones. He'd even convinced the gods to change the tradition of claiming demigods- one of his greatest feats yet. That was what everyone saw him as- one of the generation's champions.

But when he looked at Percy, all Will ever saw was his dead siblings.

"Hey, Will," Percy managed a weary smile. His face was swollen with ugly spots of purple and yellow. From sparring, probably- that was all anyone ever did these days. Spar, spar, spar. What was even the point? It wasn't as if they were fighting a war anymore. Things were supposed to be better, more peaceful. Was that too much to ask for?

Focus, Solace. Will gave himself a little shake. His ADHD really did get out of hand sometimes.

He gestured to the chair Clarisse had previously occupied; Percy sat down, wincing slightly from his injuries, and Will reached over to grab a new pair of gloves. He snapped them on, and asked, "Sparring?"

"Yeah." Percy gave a pained grunt as Will grabbed his chin to tilt his face up for a better look. "Thalia kicked my ass."

"The Hunters are here?" Will's mind instantly leapt to Nico; how would he feel? The son of Hades had never truly lost his grudge against the Hunters of Artemis for taking his sister. "I thought they weren't due till December."

"Change of plans, I guess," said Percy. He squirmed as Will began to apply a thick paste to his face. "This is way too sticky." He pulled a revolted face. "Do you really have to put this on? It stinks."

"It's procedure."

"Says who?"

Will shot him a sharp look. "My brother."

It was technically Lee who made that policy, but Percy flinched, undeniably thinking of Michael.

They settled into a quiet silence, weighted only by Percy's discontented grunts as Will applied a second layer. The blond pulled away at last, wheeled around, and stripped off his gloves, tossing them into the trash can. "That should be it. Come by if a rash breaks out or your cheek starts swelling."

"Alright," said Percy. Will turned to the sink, turning on the faucet and running his hands beneath the rush of water. It was only after he started to scrub with soap, he realized he hadn't heard the footsteps of Percy walking away.

He stole a glance over his shoulder- Percy still sat in the stool, fidgeting with his fingers. He looked like he was gearing himself up for something.

"Do you need something else?"

Percy shook his head. "No," he said slowly, as if uncertain.

Will frowned, then turned back to the sink. As he grabbed a paper towel, Percy cleared his throat. "So," he said. "Um."

"Yes?"

"You and Nico...you guys are, like..."

Will scowled, turning around. "We're what?" he said defensively, his fists clenching.

"Nothing," said Percy hastily, looking guilty and rather alarmed at Will's uncharacteristically aggressive response. "Nothing- I just...didn't expect it, that's all." He cleared his throat. "I'm happy for you, man. Really."

There wasn't anything scathing Will could really say to that, so he busied himself with a new pair of gloves. "I have a patient coming in a few minutes," he said brusquely. "I'm performing a surgery. You should probably leave."

"A surgery?" Now Percy definitely looked alarmed. "I thought you're fifteen?"

"I'm a medic. I'm used to this." And I wouldn't have to be if Lee and Michael were still here.

The dark-haired boy looked at him, for a few moments, his expression contemplative. At last, he spoke in a tentative, gentle tone, one that would be used to coax a skittish animal. "Is...is this about your brothers?"

Will stiffened, his jaw clenching. He considered throttling Percy for a moment; his hand even made the gesture. Brothers. Never mind the sisters he had lost. But Percy's expression was so earnest, so genuine...his fist relaxed, slumping to his side.

"I think you should go."

He wasn't used to being cold to others; he was the sunshine boy, after all. But Percy's presence made it surprisingly easy, and maybe little too good at it.

The son of Poseidon visibly deflated. "Right. Sorry," he said, rising from the stool. The culpability in his face almost made Will apologize- but then he ground his teeth and reminded himself that this was Percy fucking Jackson. Accidentally or not, this boy was the reason Will had spent his summer burying his siblings' bodies and mourning their absences. He didn't deserve forgiveness.

"Will?" Percy was at the door, fingers curled around the knob. His lips pursed. "For the record, I-I'm really sorry. I never meant for it to happen."

There were a million things Will could've said (do you think i care?, sure you didn't, that doesn't bring them back) but he just shrugged and reached for his medical kit, pretending not to have heard.

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

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OVERDUE LMAO WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN A BITCH

so i decided not to end this on a good note since i can't really see Will ever forgiving Percy for what happened to his siblings. And, of course, Percy feels guilty (even tho it's not his fault). So this is just a lose-lose situation honestly.

This fic was heavily inspired by @mediumgayitalian's work, go check her out!! she's an amazing writer!!!

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #hoo #will solace #percy jackson angst #will solace angst #will solace centric fic #pjo fanfic

[ikarasu]

Intrusive thoughts on Romeo for all of the few Romeo lovers out there.

💛 Human 💛

- ✨charming✨

He’s unbelievably charming, we’ve all seen the King of Puppets intro. So I believe human Romeo is the definition of Prince Charming. He’s treating you to flowers and kisses on the hand. If not he’s greeting you with a playful bow.

- Quality Time

Romeo is huge on quality time, whether or not you guys are actually talking. He’s fine with laying against you as you read a book while playing with his hair. Please brush his hair! He loves the feeling of your hands in his hair.

- Late Night Dates

I’d imagine Romeo to be slightly rebellious and adventurous. He’s the type to climb up to your window and take you out for some fun. Take you to hidden spots around Krat or to a beautiful view. He’d gently hold your hand and pull you close to him. Humming a tune while slow dancing with you in the park. Dimly lit by the street lights, he’d stare at you as if you’re the brightest star.

👑 Puppet 👑

- Extremely Possessive

At that point, Romeo had just lost Carlo and had seen the horrors of the Petrification Disease and the Alchemists. He’s not letting you out of his sight for a second. Keeping you hidden away somewhere in the Estella Opera House. Commanding other puppets to guard your room and to protect you at all costs. But that’s only if he’s not around to guard you himself.

- Dancing

Sometimes he’d let you out of your room to dance around the Estella Opera House Stage. The few times he’d come out of his suit and somewhat let his guard down. How it would make his springs tick when he sees you come out from backstage wearing a lavish outfit. The music would start up and he’d greet you with a bow before whisking you away to dance.

- Hair

Please keep playing with his hair. He still loves it, it reminds him of when he was human. He’ll pull you towards a sofa as he sits on the floor. Handing you a brush while tilting his head at you expectantly. His springs and gears are creaking and ticking happily as you brush it.

- Reassurance

Romeo needs reassurance. After he chooses to have Geppetto turn him into a puppet he’s suddenly very self-conscious. He was scared to see your reaction at first. So to see you still love him for him makes his mechanical heart soar. He would cry if he could. Please reassure Romeo of your love for him 🥺

The NS to the FW

Minors scram

⚠️Warning: All unlabeled accounts will need to verify their age if they interact with any of my nsfw posts

💛 Human 💛

- Teasing

Romeo loves teasing you until you’re nothing but putty in his arms. Whispering into you just to see you flustered. He definitely uses his height advantage (unless you’re taller) against you. Occasionally pinning you to the wall as he tilts your head up for a kiss. Pulling one of your legs up to hook around him. But then suddenly pulling away just before anything more happened. He’s waiting for you to reach your breaking point where you grab him and pull him off to make sure he finishes what he started.

- Soft

He’s so soft and romantic when he’s not teasing you. Romeo doesn’t want to fuck, he wants to make love. Worshiping every inch of your skin and making sure you feel the depth of his love and devotion to you. He’s praising you every time you cum, calling you precious, and telling you how well you take him.

- Giver

Romeo is definitely a giver. He loves pleasing you to your every whim. He’s down bad for you and will do anything for you. Want him to eat you out? He’s savoring you like the finest of ambrosia. Want him to use your mouth? He won’t stop showering you in praise as he thrusts into your throat. Thanking you for letting him use your mouth. Anything, and I mean anything, as long as you’re a satisfied puddle after he’s done.

- Switch

Romeo definitely wouldn’t mind letting you take the lead if you wanted. He won’t complain if you want to put on a show for him. But sometimes after his Stalker duties he just needs to bury himself into your warm body and de-stress.

-Kissing

Romeo loves kissing while you two have sex. It’s a must. He loves feeling your lips or skin against his lips. Kissing just makes everything feel so much more intimate and real to him. Rile him up by returning those kisses, whether it’s his lips or his chest. Just kiss him back and all of a sudden he’s gripping you as he thrusts faster while he whimpers out how much he loves you.

- Aftercare

ROMEO IS NOT ONLY THE KING OF PUPPETS BUT THE KING OF AFTERCARE. He’s cleaning you up like the most delicate flower while his warm calloused hands rub you so soothingly. Making sure you hydrate while he brushes out any tangles in your hair. Pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. Whispering sweet nothings into your hair before giving you his shirt to wear to sleep. He’s wrapping his arms around you as he holds you close before falling asleep.

👑 Puppet 👑

- Size Difference

We all saw how tall he was in the game. If he wasn’t taller than you before, he probably is now. He’s pulling you underneath him as he thrusts into you. Calling you his little star or his heart as he absolutely ruins you.

- Dominant/overstimulation

I’d imagine after becoming the King of Puppets he’s a lot more dominant. Easily holding you down and making you take all of him (with consent). Whispering into your ear “How’s it like to have a King claiming you, my little star?”. Before sliding his entire length into you. Growling out in a staticky voice “Mine, mine, mine…”, he’s once again possessive after everything that’s happened. He’s going to make you cum multiple times despite you crying and whimpering you can’t take more. He knows you can because you don’t want to disappoint your King, do you?

- Hear me out… 👹 the suit 👹……….

Sometimes he’s really impatient and pent up. So he’ll grab you with one of the many large hands before opening up the hatch and tossing you inside with him. The hatch closes and now you’re stuck inside with a very pent-up Romeo. No one is going to disturb you guys for a while… He’ll keep you there until he’s absolutely satisfied.

-Aftercare

Usually that consists of you helping him clean since now he has nooks and crannies from being a puppet. But Romeo really appreciates it and helps him actually wind down. He just loves watching you take care of him and feeling your skin against him. He pulls your hand up to his cheek as he nuzzles it. Thanking you for not leaving him after seeing him become a puppet. Reassure his worried mind and shower him in kisses.

#lies of p #lies of p romeo #imagine #pretty boy #lies of p romeo x reader #romeo #lies of p headcanons #romeo x reader #this is actually insane #I need help don’t i? #feral thoughts #ns/fw #gender neutral reader #ns to the fw #spicy content

[ambrosiaheights]

Character Profile: Gregorius

Art by me (main: @diabolical-blue)

Gregorius is a central character in Ambrosia Heights, second in importance only to the main character, Emmaline.

Appearance: Gregorius has bluish-gray skin, yellow eyes with black slit-shaped pupils, long pointed ears, short talon-like claws on all fingers and toes, and not a single hair on his body, not even eyebrows or eyelashes. His height is 7'0" (although he tends to hunch over/slouch a lot).

— 🌹 —

Gregorius is a very quiet man, a “loner” who spends most of his time by himself. In fact, most of his life has been spent in near-complete isolation, locked away inside a belltower on the grounds of the old stone abbey-turned-boarding-school Gravehurst Hall. He was told by his guardian this was a necessity, since most humans in this part of the forest are so hostile to elves they kill them on sight.

But even when he interacts with people who are not hostile to his kind, it is difficult for Gregorius to feel accepted. At seven feet tall, his unusual height makes him stand out far more than he would prefer. Not to mention, his intimidating presence give off the unwanted impression of a threat, a frustrating if cannot-be-helped misrepresentation of the timid and gentle soul inside. But instead of responding with anger to these hurtful assumptions, Gregorius prefers to avoid conflict and tends to be quite forgiving - perhaps to a fault. Thus, he remains withdrawn from society and observes all those happy families and couples from a distance, wondering if his dreams of companionship will never be more than dreams.

And in a world where magic is treated with great caution at best, and distrust or hostility at worst, possessing unfathomably powerful - and sometimes terrifyingly uncontrollable - magical abilities is an unwanted complication in the life of a man who wants nothing more than to live a quiet, happy, normal life in peace.

— 🌹 —

Random facts about Gregorius:

He is an avid reader and one of his biggest obsessions is collecting and copying books, spending countless hours transcribing them by hand to fill his own private library.

Gregorius loves animals and is very gentle with them, but simultaneously is staunchly opposed to keeping any pets of his own. He claims it hurts too much to get attached to something with such a short lifespan.

Nobody, except for his guardian who raised him from infancy, has ever seen him eat anything. If invited to a dinner party, he will just sit there staring anxiously at his plate until the event is over and he can leave.

Gregorius is very particular about his clothing and will quickly revert back to his preferred outfit whenever possible - a well-worn shirt and trousers cut above his knees. He never wears shoes.

He is not gifted with a lot of typical social skills, quickly becoming overwhelmed when interacting with more than one person at once. Even walking down a crowded street has the potential to trigger a panic attack (especially if the specific sounds he hears are triggering for personal reasons related to his past).

He is fairly secretive about his magic powers and claims to avoid using them whenever possible. However, because one aspect of his powers is the ability to heal others, he will go out of his way to help almost any injured person he encounters - even a stranger, and even if this puts himself in danger.

Gregorius is staunchly pacifistic and will usually give the benefit of the doubt to most questionable situations, sometimes at the cost of horrible unintended consequences to himself or others.

One of Gregorius’s most treasured values is family. But just like his pacifism, this can backfire just as disastrously, particularly when the familial relationships he would do anything to protect are closer to cases of toxic codependency instead.

Many people will see Gregorius’s quietness, awkwardness, or naivety and jump to hurtful conclusions about his intelligence. However, although it is true he is inexperienced with much of the outside world (primarily through no fault of his own), he is quite intelligent and keenly observant of the world around him. He just has a slightly different perception of the world which can be difficult for others to relate to.

— 🌹 —

A line Gregorius says in chapter 11 which I think sums up his character pretty well:

[Context: Another character points out how the local villagers have a nickname for Gregorius, “the Monster of Withingham Wood.” He’s basically an urban legend, everyone making up all sorts of assumptions about him without ever seeing him up close. Before Gregorius’s response, the other character was joking about it a little too insensitively, particularly the fact that Gregorius appeared oblivious to the fact that this nickname was referring to himself.]

“It’s not that I didn’t know they were talking about me. I’m not an idiot. I just thought – or I hoped – if I never gave anyone a reason to call me a monster, then they wouldn’t. I know that’s not really how the world works. I just wish it was.”

#the story might be told from emmaline’s perspective but gregorius is the heart 💙 of the story #there are 3 different fictional characters he was inspired by or remind me of him...can you guess who they are? #one is fairly obvious and the other two are much more obscure #character bio #character profile #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writblr #writing #original fiction #my art #ambrosia heights #gregorius

[pupkou]

✧ Blood and Darkness ✧

✦ Zagreus (Hades 2018) x Gender Neutral Reader. ✦ Warnings: slight mentions of gore (no details; in the game, Zagreus is killed over and over and is often covered in blood), head injury (reader is hurt, non-fatally, and is knocked out by hitting their head), mentions of Zagreus’ sexual escapades (no descriptions), reader is a servant of the house of Hades and is described as a shade, no smut (😞)... yet (😏). ✦ Word Count: 2.2K. ✦ Read on AO3. ✦ Part 1 / ?

You've heard rumors about Hades' son.

They say he's not in possession of a particularly impressive stature; he's of average height, with dark hair, and he's quite thin, really, for a God. That's what he is, after all, just a God of the Underworld. One of many. And one who looks like he's not indulging himself in ambrosia and nectar as much as he should be at that, it almost seems like he's ungrateful for all the blessings and curses that come along with being the Prince of the Underworld.

They describe him as far smaller and more pathetic than Achilles, their blush showing on their ghostly complexions as they describe how his hair is cropped close to his neck and black and unflowing, not at all like the golden locks that fall around Achilles' nape.

Oh, Achilles, why must you torture us with your divine beauty and arrogant sneer? We know our ghastly, hellish faces are unworthy of your gaze, but a small, simple kindness-- in the form of a smile from your handsome face-- would satisfy us for eternities to come. By Achilles, by Thetis, and by Zeus, please let him stroll by and be pleased by something enough to smile for us, even if his pleasure comes from our misery. Surely, one of us can think of something to poke fun at Hector... much like the spear of Achilles' poked at his neck... surely so, surely so...

They... say a lot of things, but they always call him Zagreus, which means 'great hunter'. But by the rumors you've heard, it... doesn't seem like Zagreus' name fits him very well. In Tartarus' maze, everything becomes prey to those that inhabit the different levels of death and despair that come before you feel the sun's warm embrace, or so you've heard. You've never actually felt the sun, but you have heard Achilles brag about it to Hades, reminding the king of his very eventful life on earth. The sun doesn't reach this far down, though, and is unable to illuminate the depths of Hades' realm or comfort those who call it home. Here, predators lurk around every moss-covered turn, under every magma-concealing rock, behind every skullified hero's dug-up grave, and even amongst the distinguished guests that frequent the house of Hades.

From the whispers you've strained to hear, it seems like Zagreus wants out of this place-- the Underworld, that is. The shades, your main source of information on Zagreus and the other residents of the house, love to gossip, and they say he's still not been successful in escaping the darkness that has consumed him since he was born. Some root for him, hoping that one day his laurels will know what it feels like to soak in the blazing sun like the blessed olive trees they were harvested from, while others laugh at his failure, joining Hypnos' chorus of dramatic mocking, when they see him rise from the blood once again.

He's always covered in it, head to toe, deep red and maroon coating his limbs and soaking from his limbs as if it were his own. Much of it is, considering the amount of times he's died, but that doesn't make it any less pitiful to see the Prince rise from the fluid of life (and death), unrelenting in his attempts to escape his home. He'd hardly call it that, of course, as you've heard him say as he climbs the marble steps leading from the pool of blood, wiping his glowing feet on the carpet that you think was one of Arachne's (hence its purpose being for Zagreus to wipe his bloody feet on.)

The thing about marble-- what the house of Hades is made out of-- is that it doesn't absorb sound in the slightest. It's a curse for embarrassed shades trying to quietly explain how they arrived in Tartarus early because their pet goat rammed them in the stomach, but a blessing for beings like you who get most of their daily excitement from the things that they hear refracted off of the cool stone walls.

Marble also doesn't quickly absorb any liquid poured onto its surface, despite being a porous stone, which means that you, one of the poor shades tasked with cleaning, have a lot of work to do. Guests in the house get rowdy at the kitchen bar sometimes, drinking too much ambrosia and leaving various liquids behind. Sometimes water from the river Styx drips from cracks in the ceiling, pooling and causing problems for anyone whose flesh comes in contact with the liquid. And on the worst days, the most stubborn of fluid comes in contact with the objects you're in charge of keeping tidy.

One of Cerberus' heads is a particularly messy eater, which means that sometimes droplets of blood from a cut of meat (or carcass) he's eating are flung onto precious objects. Another guest, who is said to be armed with a barbed whip, has been said to make her victims cry blood on occasion, staining the good dinner napkins and frustrating you profusely. But by far, the being who makes the worst, bloody messes, is Zagreus himself.

Despite him wiping his feet on the carpet and despite your polite suggestion to him-- a sheet for him to dry off with laid over the marble railing, Zagreus continuously trails blood all over the house. And it doesn't help that the Prince behaves like a dog, prodding at his ears when they're clogged with blood and scratching at his head to dislodge it from his scalp. He's even shook like a filthy mutt before, letting drops of blood fly from his dark hair and unknowingly creating hours of cleanup for you. You've always been forgiving, though, considering that for one, you don't have much of a choice, and two, that you've never actually spoken to Zagreus in all of your years working for the house. You've heard his name boomed in anger from Hades' decision chamber, whispered by a loose-lipped shade with an audience to entertain, and uttered during more private affairs when you shouldn't have been pressing an ear to the dark wood of his bedchamber.

But things happen. And you've never met him, so you don't feel too bad or worry too much about ever being in his presence. He's always gone anyway, wooing an undead maiden when he's not fighting to flee the house, you presume. So when you enter his bedroom dust off his belongings and collect his blood and gut soiled robes, you pay little attention to your surroundings.

You've been in his sleeping chambers many times since you've been trusted with entry, something the other cleaning shades consider a privilege. You scoff at the idea that cleaning up the Prince's dirty laundry, various collected knickknacks, and... bodily fluids is at all a privilege, but you do as you're told anyway because admittedly, it is interesting to be provided with such an intimate view of someone you've never met. There's so much to be told by someone's bedroom, or in Zagreus' case, the state of someone's sheets (his always are in various stages of disarray from his frequent activities held within the bedchamber), and you don't at all mind the exclusive perspective on the Prince.

You do, however, mind that he tracks blood everywhere. Usually, you're more aware of it, considering how much of your life you spend cleaning it up, but this time, you're not so lucky as to notice its presence. Abnormally, the carpet that cushions the foot of Zagreus' bed is kicked up in one spot so that when you move to straighten the books on his bookshelf, not only do you trip on the carpet, but you slip in a pool of blood, streaking it across the tile as you fall hard onto the floor. The force with which your head hits the hard, stone floor would surely have killed you had you not died ages ago, but in this extended lifetime, all it does is send the lower half of your body into the bookshelf's feet, knocking books, scrolls, and what are surely precious artifacts from Zagreus' journeys flying to the floor in a great crash that shakes and echoes through the room.

Although you're thoroughly disoriented and on the verge of passing out, you still hear a gravelly, skeletal voice in the distance say, "Maybe you'd better investigate that, boyo. Unless you don't got the guts! I sure don't! Ha ha ha!" before your eyes close and your mind descends to darkness.

✧✧✧

Rest, even when injury is involved, is rare for a servant of Hades like you, and it feels like only a moment has passed before your eyes are opening again, drowsy and weak as the lids flutter open. While you can't quite understand why yet, you notice that you're lying on a bed softer than a cloud and warmer than the sun (as you imagine it), and that soft voices are speaking in hushed tones nearby. One is older than the other, and commands the other to be more quiet as he worries, as though he's fretting about you.

Your sight comes back to you gradually, and you see that a red blanket with golden lining is draped over your legs and midsection comfortably, keeping you warm and still as the shocks of the pain from your head pulse through your body. Your neck hurts too, but it retains just enough of its strength that you're able to lift your hurting head and see the two forms hovering at the bedside, far enough to indicate that they were worried you might spring up like an undead warrior looking for revenge, but concerned enough that they needed to stay close.

The one on the left, who's farther from you, is a reanimated human's skeleton. A Bloodless, as they're called, was once a mortal warrior that did not receive a proper burial, and is now forced to roam the Underworld aimlessly, looking for a fight that might bring them eternal peace. It's a foolish game to play, of course, as all wise men know that no war will ever bring peace. This Bloodless doesn't seem mindless like the others though, and is able to make eye contact with his bright red irises, although he seems uncomfortable doing so. He looks at his partner when you meet his gaze.

His partner stands closer to you, his face full of concern as it points at you, studying you. He's not very tall, but he's muscular as if he uses his body more than the average God trapped in Tartarus for all of eternity, and the half of his torso that's revealed lacks scarring-- in the dimness of the room, it's almost like his skin is glowing faintly. His face is kind and handsome, unlike anyone you've ever seen before. On top of his short, dark hair rests a loop of multi-colored laurels whose crimson color fades into red, which fades into copper, which fades into gold.

It sits on his head like a crown, much like the dark-haired child in the portrait of Cerberus that hangs in the great hall wore, you think. Identical to it, even. You've never actually stopped to read the plaque that hangs beneath the masterpiece, so you're not sure who the child or his companions are or what their names could be-- you just know that he is of the utmost importance to Hades considering he is the center of a few artistic representations, which Hades isn't often fond of. But before you can begin your quest to discover the identity of the child in the portrait, he speaks.

"Hello, dear friend," he says softly. "Can you hear me?"

You swallow, hoping your voice still works, and say, "Yes."

"Woah! This one's got no respect for royalty! They just employ any- body these days! Ha!" the Bloodless jokes, elbowing his partner in the ribs humorously. Unfortunately for him, his partner doesn't laugh, he just keeps his attention steady on you, his heterochromatic eyes caring as they watch you. In any other case, he would push the Bloodless over and reduce him (temporarily) to a scattered pile of bones, but there are things more important to worry about than someone’s mistimed joke. 

At the skeleton’s words, your stomach drops as all the blood rushes to your head all at once, and your heart starts beating so hard you can hear it in your ears, a pounding rhythm usually reserved for life-or-death situations. Suddenly, the room becomes familiar again-- the picture frames you've dusted and the knickknacks you've arranged and the blankets you've straightened thousands of times become clear to you.

You're in Zagreus' bedroom.

Prince Zagreus' bedroom.

And you're lying in his bed.

And the man, who was once a baby with a crown of laurels forced (by magic) to sit still for a portrait, is right in front of you.

The one person in the house of Hades who you've never come in contact with is standing at your bedside because you slipped in his blood.

You are so extremely damned. Somehow, even more than the first time you got damned to Tartarus for all eternity.

Blood and darkness.

✧✧✧

tagging people I think might like this <3

@vampireloverz @allright @transchainsawman @moonsong1027 <3

#zagreus x reader #zagreus x gn reader #zagreus x gender neutral reader #hades game x reader #hades x reader #zagreus hades game x reader

[ghostgoose01]

Sweet Nothings~

18+

Gundham Tanaka x Voice Kink! Fem! Reader

Tw: Oral Fixation (Mouth play ((thumb sucking))), Gropey Gundham, Dominate Gundham, Fingering (ish), vaginal sex, riding, dirty talk, voice kink, devil/angel dynamic, corruption kink, breeding kink, ect.

@leehoonii-i

----_----_----_----

Gundham never thought of his voice as attractive.

Not until today.

He was sitting there, talking to you with a smile on his face, you being one of the few people he was comfortable with, when your conversation was interrupted.

After the interruption, when you guys got back to his dorm he was a bit upset. You both sat down on his bed and were talking again when he brought up the interruption. He had a small bit of a growl to his voice as he complained to you:

"...Stupid mortals. All of them interrupting my conversations with my angel of light."

At first he didn't notice what his voice did to you, but now he does. The way you squirm in your seat at first makes him think you're nervous. Maybe you're scared? Did he get too upset? Are you angry at him?

But as he leans closer and sees the flush on your face and the way your thighs rub together, it hits him.

"Is it my voice angel? Speak up."

He teases, watching you for a reaction.

And sure enough the flush on your face gets darker- but you refuse to answer the question.

"Angel. Speak to me, is it my voice that has you this... unraveled~?"

He adds a soft growl to his words, a commanding tone that made you gasp, his hand now placed precariously under your chin, thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

"I-I-"

You give a flustered squeak, unable to form a single word under his touch. He was gentle, his hand cold, and yet his touch felt like fire on your skin.

"Awhhh... it seems like my little angel likes the overlords tone.. how cute."

He gives a small chuckle, a soft rumble to his voice that would have any woman squirming, including you. His eyes held a sparkle of pride.

"Aren't you just an adorable little thing? Cmon, give the overlord your precious little words, tell him what you want."

The hand not on your lip now slid down your neck and to your thigh. The cold making your skin jump beneath his touch, his hand ever so slightly under the edge of your skirt as he smirks at you, clearly expecting you to speak.

"It is your voice... it's.. attractive.."

A flush fills your face as you admit it and his smirk only gets more clear- the normally shy man now finding his bearings. His hands now adding a bit of pressure to your thigh and chin as he holds your head to his position.

"Attractive? In what way? In the way that makes your thighs quiver under my touch? The way that makes your pretty little head think of the sinful things I could do to you? The way I could treat your body the way a devil would a goddess~?"

"Yes... yes..."

You stumble out quietly, looking up at him from his now looming position. Your height difference between you two never as noticeable as it is in these moments.

"Good girl, my stunning little goddess of heaven... You're such a good fucking girl."

He growls out lightly, definitely using his deep rumble to his advantage, sliding the hand on your thigh up just a bit higher and massaging the skin, causing sparks of fire underneath his hand, eyes trained into yours and the hand on your face now having his thumb prodding at your lips a bit.

"Come on my little goddess, give in to my temptation, part your sweet little lips for a taste of the devils ambrosia.."

You part your lips as if on a command, you suck on his thumb like a whore, and his smirk widens in response.

"That's it my little goddess, fall from heaven, let the urges take over your little head..."

He runs his hand further up your thigh, lightly massaging the point where your panties met your hips, feeling the material on his fingers.

"Such a pretty little goddess, such a shame I'm about to corrupt that little soul of yours.."

Gundham hummed in a teasing tone as he gently snapped the material on your skin, causing you to gasp and squirm, which only made him chuckle.

"Awhhh... I think you might already be ruined... how cute."

He slips his hand down the center of your thighs, his index and pointer finger rubbing along the outside of your panties, the material wet from the building desires he was putting you through.

"Oh-? My goddess truly is loosing her light so easily isn't she~?"

He mused, teasing you with the simple pushing of his fingers onto your aching center above the cursed material that did not let you feel the rough padding of his fingers well enough to be truly pleased. You whined softly at that lack of contact and he tsked lightly at you.

"Tsk tsk tsk... such a needy little one aren't you? So needy for corruption.. so needy for her devil to ruin her.."

He pushes a little harder on the material, letting you feel a little more but not enough.

"Beg."

Your eyes are trained on his, his eyes full of pride and ego as he gently rubs just enough to bring you pleasure, but not enough to truly please you. He wants you to beg, but you put up a fight of silence for a moment.

"I said, beg."

He leans forward, placing his mouth onto your throat and holding your chin a little harder, forcefully tilting your head back to give himself access to your neck. Biting and licking at the skin of your neck like a predator would it's prey.

"Beg. Beg for me to ruin you. Beg for me to take that pretty little body and turn it into a fleshlight for my own personal use. Beg me clip your wings and put you on your knees where you belong. Beg me to ruin you, my goddess."

He bites down between every sentence, making sure he had continuous access to your neck as he demanded what he wanted through his deep and rumbling voice- tone enough to make you whine and whimper on its own, and the biting and rubbing only making you moan and roll your eyes back.

"Beg me to breed you. Beg me to fill you with the children of the underworld. Beg me to ruin the temple of the gods with my demonic release. You know you want it. You know you want to be all mine don't you? Cmon, use your words."

When you finally give in and beg for him to just touch you already, he's quick to tear the material of your panties from your skin, leaving you in your skirt and shirt as he unbuckles his belt and pulls you into his lap, aligning himself with your entrance without a second thought, pulling you down until he's bottomed out.

The feeling causes him to let out a low, primal growl as he breathes heavily. The way you twitch and whine in his lap from the feeling of fullness makes him want to drill you right then and there, but in the back of his mind that moment when his voice caused you to become like this made him reconsider.

"Move."

He commands, using his hand to guide your hips to rotate once or twice before pulling it away. When you start to move on his command he smirks.

"Good... good girl... without your pretty little wings, you'll make a perfect toy.."

His voice reverberates through his chest in a way that has you clenching around him.

"Faster."

Another command leaves him, along with a low chuckle when you comply.

"Good girl. Good girl little one. Ruin yourself on my cock, show me your fall from grace..."

The commands continue on for quite a while, groans and heavy breathing mixed in, you had already finished twice when he suddenly flipped you both other and started to drill into you at a much faster pace than you had been riding him at. Letting out a low growl, he spoke:

"Beg for me again little goddess. Cmon. Beg. Beg for me to breed you. Beg for me to ruin your womb with my seed. Beg for the pleasure. Beg to be mine. Cmon. Beg for me."

He pants as he continues, his grip on your hips enough to leave a mark for a few minutes but gentle enough not to bruise. Despite the rough treatment, he would never truly hurt you.

"By God's you're so fucking tight. So fucking pretty. I'm gonna ruin you. I'm gonna corrupt you. You'll be mine forever. You'll never be the same again. You'll be my little fallen angel. My goddess kicked from Olympus. My little fuckdoll-"

His voice rolls from his tongue like a sinful honey, his pace only getting faster as he reaches his end. As he stills inside the deepest part of you, thick ropes of cum warm inside you, he places his forehead on yours and kisses your lips softly.

"I love you, my fallen goddess.."

As the moments pass and everything slows down, he ensures himself to cleaning you up, and pulls you in for a cuddle, whispering to you..

"You did so well.. such a good goddess you are.. my beautiful one."

#daganronpa v2 #gundham tanaka #gundham tanaka x reader #sdr2 gundham #gundham tanaka smut

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni 18+ - cunnilingus, princess and daddy calling.

carlos oliveira

You caved your body forwards, stimulated by the focused motions by the tip of Carlos’ tongue, your fingers deep into the fabric of the pillows while the slick texture of his tongue travelled up the opening of your cunt, your taste tangy and sweet and him drunk off your nectar.

He moaned as his fingers gripped into the smoothness of your skin, his head between your thighs as you comfortably sat on his face, intoxicated and drowned by your ambrosia the minute you began to rock your hips.

“Mhmm princess,” he whispered, his eyes open set on your breasts as the height of your moans began to peak, your hands had travelled to the curly locks of his hair as you looked down at him, your eyes glossy as you could feel your orgasm summit, the hard twitch of your figure strong enough for him to recognise you had been close your climax. “Don’t—” he pushed the faint vibrations of his word able enough to send you over the edge.

“Daddy please!” You whimpered, your hand now interlocked with his, the balance of his tongue raked against your pearl and another whimper pushed from the back of your throat, your legs had trembled and there had been an uncertain concept that you could remain to sit on his face, and without second-thought, the tingling sensation had strike through your body and your cunt had pulsed out the clear sweet drink into Carlos’ mouth.

Thus, your body had completely fell forward, allowing Carlos to take the entire control, over-stimulated your body had lightly humped against his tongue probing for anymore ecstasy until Carlos had finally pulled his face away from your pussy. His eyes then examined your body, your ass face up and him enthusiastic and ardent to continue to use your figure.

With the bottom of your lips tucked behind your teeth, the noise of the unbuckle of his belt had aroused your physique to position yourself properly in his direction. “Ready?” You heard him question and content you had gently nodded your head.

“Yeah.”

♆

#magneticsiren #resident evil #carlos oliveira #carlos x reader #carlos x you #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveria smut

[revasserium]

twst boys as seasons

malleus x autumn

so many people might call him winter, but the first time you meet him, all you can think of is the sound of falling leaves, of singing wind and dancing chimes, and the soft hush hush of the shifting greens — summer bleeding into something that is not quite summer anymore. “death becomes me,” so he might say, but you’d shake your head, cast your eyes up at the branches leafed in gold, swaying above your heads in the bursting autumn afternoon, “no… life becomes you too,” you tell him. because how else can you make him understand that there is room for both in one single body, that he is hail and harvest both, that abundance drips from him like ambrosia from the tongues of gods. “and… there’s halloween…” he says, the shadow of a grin playing at the edges of his lips, even though nothing in his voice gives him away — you know by now, yes, you know him well enough by now to know when he’s teasing.

and he does so love to tease. “what, you think you’re scary?” “aren’t i?” “not to me.” “hm… was i ever?” and you consider him, taking in the height of him, the oil-dark of his horns, the milk pale of his skin, the quicksilver glint behind his slitted eyes. he leans in, almost as if to bear down upon you, but you laugh, reaching up to press a finger to his lips, making him blink as he pauses. “no,” you shake your head, “never.” he leans back, contemplative, “hn. then perhaps i haven’t been trying hard enough.” but you don’t miss the now no-longer shadow of a grin on lips as he turns his eyes back to the courtyard, back to the falling leaves dipped in every color of the sunset sky, back to the wind-kissed branches and the laughter of the students as they chase each other around the grasses in the last fell dregs of dying daylight. “in order to grow,” you say, your eyes far away too, when he turns to look at you, “things have to die. and that, i think, is beautiful too.” and at this, malleus smiles, allows himself this one, sweet, unabashed thing, “yes… beautiful.” and you don’t turn, but if you had, you’d have noticed that his eyes as he said those words were fixed very solidly on you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus draconia fluff #twst fluff #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x you #mallues draconia imagines #malleus draconia scenarios #twst x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #idk man i stared a new seanan mcguire book today and its about ppl being seasons and i immediately thought of malleus as autumn. #who do you think i should do next? :D

[ptn-imagines]

Will you do a Serpent x Chief one? I love reading your writing. It's great and you make people so happy. :3

So after finishing Serpent's interrogation, I had quite a few ideas for this relationship. As a result, I didn't focus on the falling in love/getting together parts of the relationship quite as much as I usually do. If you want that stuff -- or just more Serpent/Chief content in general -- feel free to ask for a continuation!

Serpent x Chief headcanons

When Chief had told Serpent that they'd help her find happiness, this isn't quite what they'd had in mind. Still, they're very glad it did; after all the suffering and pain she's endured, they can't think of anyone more deserving of this than Serpent… Oh, and there's the fact that they love her with all their heart, too.

Serpent is in a pretty much permanent state of euphoria. Finally able to feel the love she's been denied for so long, the acrobat has only grown more energetic and cheerful. It's no longer a facade, and the whole Bureau can tell; even her snake seems to have lifted its spirits.

Despite how hyperactive she can get in public, in moments of private respite, Serpent is quite calm. One of her favorite activities is simply curling up with her head on the Chief's lap. They hadn't known humans could purr before this – or perhaps it was a unique feature of Serpent's. Either way, their girlfriend tends to fall asleep like this, the Chief's hand stroking through her hair.

Speaking of hair, Serpent is quite skilled with hair and makeup and likes to use her skills on the Chief. Though Chief initially had misgivings, they quickly learned Serpent could do “natural” looks just as well as eccentric ones, and now she helps them get ready every morning.

Though, waking her up for it can be a pain. Since Serpent has to retire to her cell at night, to see her in the mornings, the Chief has to get up well before everyone else in the Bureau if they want to be ready on time. Only part of this is due to the walk to the cells; the other part is simply due to the fact Serpent takes forever to wake up, and is usually quite grumpy when she does. Chief counts themself lucky she's able to hold herself back from biting even when half-asleep – though she has no reservations about hissing.

Still, she warms up quickly enough, particularly when enticed by cuddles and kisses. Particularly forehead kisses; she loves those, as well as when the Chief kisses her scales. It makes her giggle each time, and Chief can't help but smile at the adorable sound.

Serpent is a very physically affectionate partner and she isn't shy about asking for the Chief's attention. She has just enough common decency not to burst in on meetings, but any other time is fair game. Chief has gotten used to working with a sleepy, affectionate snake-woman on their lap, and their office has recently acquired a comfortable beanbag for when Serpent can no longer resist the siren song of slumber. She's either full tilt or yawning all the time; there's no in-between. (Speaking of which, Chief feels like Serpent has just the cutest yawn… even her fangs are adorable.)

Honestly, Chief can't help but spoil Serpent all the time. The Sinner has had almost nothing to her name for her whole life, and as a result, Chief feels as though a little bit of personal spending on their girlfriend should be accepted. As a result, if you looked into Serpent's cell, you'd find it covered in the fluffiest, comfiest blankets and pillows ever, which the Sinner likes to burrow underneath. There can be no doubt that this snake sleeps in the absolute height of luxury, as far as prisons go anyway.

Chief also buys Serpent a lot of sweet treats, but after a few errant mishaps, they've learned to be very discerning about what they give her. Serpent likes the desserts they bring her, but if the taste reminds her too much of Ambrosia, it can cause a Mania spike and throw her into a panic attack.

Serpent's snake is just as friendly with Chief as its owner. It likes to coil around their neck like a scarf, a sight that always makes Serpent giggle with delight and rush to find a camera. The Sinner must have hundreds of near-identical photos by now, but if this brings her the genuine happiness she's craved, Chief will gladly let her take more.

Whenever Serpent performs a show, Chief is always in the front row. The Sinner makes a point of meeting their gaze and blowing them kisses and winks as she performs; sometimes, she'll even drag them up on stage with her! It can be a bit nerve-wracking, but Chief trusts that Serpent won't let them make a fool of themselves, and her smile is worth it anyway.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn serpent #path to nowhere serpent #serpent #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

[drabblesandimagines]

Fearless

Based on this request. Clive Rosfield x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,220 words

You’ve always been good at putting on a facade, holding your nerve in life or death situations – part of everyday life, really, since joining the Cursebreakers – but as you grow closer to your destination, it’s getting harder to make your legs comply. “Are you sure, Clive?” You slow in your walk, your voice soft, but he still hears.

Clive stops in his stride then, steps in front of you and places one hand on your shoulder and his other warm palm cups your face with a sympathetic smile. “I promise it’ll be fine. Have I ever led you astray before, my darling?”

“No, you haven’t… but I must confess I’m still nervous.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead in his reassuring way – he’s all about soft, sweet touches. “I’ll be with you the whole time, all right?”

You nod, though you know it’s not coming across as a confident one. He smiles, encouragingly, and moves his hand down from your cheek to tilt your chin upwards so he can kiss you chastely on the lips. It’s all too brief, a distraction perhaps, as he then wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side and continues to lead you down the path into the clearing he’d scouted out for this particular excursion – free of fiends and blight. It would be a nice spot for a romantic picnic, you think… or literally anything else than what Clive has planned.

Once you’ve reached the centre, he slips his arm away and takes a step back, facing you with a look on his face that reminds you of how excited Torgal gets for one of his treats. “Ready, my lady?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He holds his fingers up to his lips and lets out a long whistle. It’s almost like magic, really, with how quickly the silver white chocobo appears out of nowhere. She charges into the clearing with impressive speed and you quickly sidestep to stand behind Clive’s stature. The chocobo’s head is bowed down low, squawking, until she comes to an abrupt stop a few metres away from you both.

“Hello, Ambrosia.” Clive greets, rubbing her head softly as she bows it to him, now letting out soft, sweet kwehs. “How have you been, girl?”

For the majority of your life, you’ve been terrified of chocobos. It’s an understandable fear – as Clive had repeatedly reassured you upon discovery – considering your past.

You’d made it to your seventh Name Day before being discovered as a Bearer, quickly Branded and sold off to a noble in the countryside who made his gil through agriculture. The days were spent toiling in the fields - turning over the soil, planting seeds, harvesting - and the nights were spent sleeping in the chocobo stables. Unfortunately, your former master treated both his Branded and chocobos with the same amount of affection – forced to share the same dirty water trough and the same buckets full of food scraps.

There was some sort of unspoken bond between you and your fellow Bearers to share everything equally – favours repaid to one another in the field, throwing a couple more vegetables in their basket at the tally count to avoid a lashing. But chocobos have awful sharp claws to go along with their hungry stomachs.

You’re torn from your daydreaming by Clive saying your name, catching the tail-end of him introducing you. There was always a certain glint in his eye when he told you tales of growing up in Rosaria, especially involving Ambrosia. The young Rosfield had raised her from a chick, for Founder’s sake. She’d saved his life at Phoenix Gate, lost her eye in the process… so if there’s a chocobo to like, she’s definitely the one to like.

She draws up to her full height then, flapping her wings and your heart pounds – a flashback to a night where you very nearly lost your fingers to a sharp beak.

“Can you lie down for me?” Clive asks the bird, softly. Ambrosia folds her wings back to her sides, immediately lying down, tilting her head quizzically at her master. “Good girl.”

You remain standing behind the Fire Dominant, using him as a shield, but you know it won’t last much longer as he turns to you.

“Will you say hello?”

You take a breath – you’ve faced far scarier things, you know you have – a morbal, a couerl… Tarja’s wrath when you returned to the Hideaway exhausted and wounded.

“H-hello, Ambrosia.”

The chocobo kwehs loudly, thankfully staying settled on the ground. Clive slips an arm around your waist, squeezing your side.

“She likes you already, you know? I’ve told her a lot about you. She’s a very good listener.”

“Mm.”

“Would you like to touch her?”

“I…” Your hands are trembling at the thought.

“I would never force you, you know that, but you’re doing so well.” Clive grabs your hand, squeezing it. “We could do it together.”

“All right.” You’ve come this far after all, but there is a definite waiver in your voice.

“Ambrosia won’t peck you,” he laces his fingers through yours then. “But we’ll do it like this, so she’d only get me if she did. But you have my solemn vow that she won’t.”

You trust Clive with your very life after all, so you swallow – your throat incredibly dry – and nod. Clive grins, stepping behind you then, wrapping one arm around your stomach to pull you back into his chest. He begins to guide your intertwined hands up to the bird’s side, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand in reassurance the whole time as your fingers brush against her feathers.

She’s incredibly soft, is the first thing you notice. Different from the sharpness you’ve always associated with chocobos. Ambrosia swivels her head to watch, softly kwehing away.

“She’s beautiful, Clive.” Your fingers relax a little into a gentle stroke.

“As are you, my darling.” He murmurs in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple as he does.

The two of you stand there a little while longer, continuing to stroke Clive’s loyal steed. Ambrosia tucks her head against her chest, seeming to nestle down for a nap. It’s incredibly sweet.

You don’t even notice when Clive moves his hand away, slyly – only realising when you feel his other arm wrap around your waist.

“I’m so proud. You truly continue to astonish me every day with how remarkable you are, and how lucky I am to bear witness to it.”

“No,” you pull your hand away cautiously, but continue to look at Ambrosia. “I’m not-“

He spins you round in his arms then – Ambrosia doesn’t even move, content in her slumber – and puts on a pout. “Beautiful and brave and I will not hear otherwise.”

You can’t refuse that particular face, even when he’s not being entirely serious, and caress his cheek, and stare into his stormy blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you - truly. I love you so much, Clive.”

He sinks into your touch. “I love you too, my darling.” He pulls you even closer, if it was possible, and embraces your lips passionately – your reward – teasing your bottom lip with his teeth. His kisses still leave you almost dizzy and he knows it.

“Now, how about a ride?”

--

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