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oookay68 · 5 months

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An Unexpected Plus One

Luke Castellan x gn!reader

Word Count: 1186

Summary: Luke sneaks into your bed after a particularly bad nightmare only to find something unexpected

Warnings: none

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A hot night in August followed an even hotter day. As Apollo’s golden chariot descended, Artemis’ silver took its place and with it, the stars. The once loud and busy camp is now deserted, traces of the day’s activities evident on the ground. Disturbed grass, arrows strewn messily by the targets, unorganized climbing equipment by the lava wall. In the dead of night, Camp Half-Blood was silent.

Save for the cicadas buzzing throughout the night. The mixture of the familiar bugs and the humid air brought a smell of warmth and comfort to one Luke Castellan. He quietly crept out of Cabin Eleven, cautiously avoiding puddles of mud and cringing every time his shoe squelched in the wet grass.

It was common for him to sneak out of the cabin in the black night. Nightmares plagued every demigod and every one dealt with them in different ways. Luke’s favorite way was to crawl into your bed and seek the comfort of your arms and smell. It was a ritual that you both did. Falling asleep with each others’ warmth was the only way you guys could rest after whatever demigod dreams you had.

Luke thought about his dream on the way to your cabin. A disembodied voice whispering in his ear to steal. The object itself was unclear. But it wasn't like stealing was a foreign concept to Luke or that he felt it was a moral wrong. He was the son of Hermes, he and his siblings had a knack for thievery and were kleptomaniacs to varying extents.

He ducked behind the front porch of your cabin when one of the lights turned on. He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for a harpy to come out and bust him for breaking curfew. When nothing came he continued on, muttering something about a stupid motion light.

Luke pressed his face to your window. It was one he could find in his sleep, in fact, you once woke up to him repeatedly sleepwalking into your window. It was a memory that you would never let him forget no matter how hard he tried, a swim in the River Lethe wouldn’t be enough to erase that from your mind. He peeked through the window and smiled when he saw your face, peacefully asleep facing him.

Quietly sliding the window open, Luke stepped in and slipped off his shoes, knowing how much you hate dirty sheets. Your small bed faced the wall so he had to awkwardly throw his sneakers onto the wooden floor before he gently stepped onto your bed. You turned onto your back and mumbled something in your sleep that sounded a little bit like a cat’s meow.

Luke stroked your hair softly and pressed a warm kiss on your forehead before crawling underneath the covers with you. When he laid down he was met with strong resistance. Sleep deprived and uncaring, he persevered and wrapped his arm around your frame. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off before being rudely jolted awake with a kick to his side.

He bit back a groan of pain before shoving your light limbs over onto your side and snuggling into your neck. Another hit to his side disturbed his attempt at falling asleep. But you were still blissfully asleep, unaware of your sleeping jabs.

Luke did his best to ignore your kicks and just assumed that you were having nightmares too. With that thought he kissed your head again and pulled you into him. But his mind wouldn’t let him go back to sleep. Vigilant of your sleepy assaults, Luke stayed awake and stared at the bottom of the bunk above, focusing on your breathing.

Your heavy breathing reminded him that you were still alive, that you both were still alive. Usually he lets you sleep and waits until the morning to talk about the nightmares but something about this one disturbed him. Your chest moved up and down, inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling and then exhaling again.

Wait, what?

Luke sat up and looked at your rising and falling chest. A sleepy, “ow” drew his eyes to your face. You were still knocked out as if you were Hypnos himself. A sharp punch into his side startled him. Luke lifted the sheets up quickly and let out a surprised, “oh” when another pair of eyes stared back at him.

“Who are you?” the quiet voice asked him groggily.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry I think I wandered into the wrong bed by mistake.” Luke said. It wasn’t like your relationship was a secret but it was private. And he had to think of a fast explanation for the seven year old currently occupying your bed.

The little girl sat up and rubbed her eyes, “Why are you here?”

“Uhm…”

You started stirring awake and lifted your arm to crack your knuckles and elbow. Slowly opening your eyes, you stroked your little sister’s hair before Luke’s red face caught your attention. Even in the darkness of the night you could tell how embarrassed he was by the sheer heat his body was radiating, preparing his body for a fight or flight scenario.

“Baby?” You croak, voice deep with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

Luke smiles sheepishly and pats your sister’s head. “Just uh, wanted to make sure that you guys were sleeping well.” He shoots an awkward glance at the seven year old sitting on your leg. “Sorry for waking you guys up.”

It hits you slowly that there’s only one reason as to why he’s sneaked into your bed in the middle of the night. And no, it wasn’t to do any nefarious activities. “Oh,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, uhm…this is Lacy, she’s my little sister. She was a little homesick so I let her sleep with me.”

Luke smiles genuinely, you’re always there for your younger siblings, taking on a parental role for the young ones who miss home or have never felt that kind of love. He looks down at your sister and pats her shoulder, “You’re lucky to have Y/N as a sibling, Lacy.”

Now fully awake, Lacy gives him a toothless smile. “I know.” She says sweetly and lays back down to snuggle into your embrace.

“I’ll uh, I’ll head back.” Luke says.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry Luke, we can make some space.” You pick up Lacy easily and move her to the wall. It was no wonder why your leg felt so light to Luke. Lacy was so small and looked five rather than seven.

“No no, it’s fine.” He looked at the small single bed that held the three of you, “Three’s a crowd, I didn’t know that I’d be an unexpected plus one.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. You’d hate to leave him alone especially after he just had a nightmare. “It’s no problem at all.”

Luke shakes his head, “Nah don’t worry about it. We’ll talk more in the morning.” He gingerly kisses your lips and Lacy squirms and shies away from you two. “Sleep well you two.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #fluff #pjo #pjo tv series #charlie bushnell #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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The slam of his car door is loud enough to make him jump, echoing across the dipping valleys and proud hills. He curses to himself, standing frozen, one, two, three, four, but no one comes running. A light dusting of snow falls in a perfect circle around an invisible border, and Lee shivers as he jogs over to it, worn sneakers squelching over the wet, half-thawed grass.

As soon as he steps onto the bottom of Half-Blood Hill, he feels the difference, the balmy breath of warm summer under the clear December sky. The power of Thalia’s tree sends its usual shiver down his back, and he touches it, briefly, as he speeds past, sending his usual prayer of thanks. He pauses at the crest of the hill, using the bright gibbous moon to survey the camp, marking his path.

“Two, four….twelve,” he mutters to himself, craning his neck to map every one of the patrol harpies. He crouches for a while, watching them, tracking their patrol: paired, hexagonal, staggered circuits around the cabins. Four minute window of opportunity.

He can do four minutes.

As the two harpies walking the Apollo-Artemis circuit begin to cross the common, Lee bolts. He keeps low and close to the shadows, sprinting fast and on the balls of his feet to stay quiet, and ducks behind whatever shadow is closest whenever something looks his way. By the time the harpies turn back towards Cabin Seven, he’s already on the rickety porch, tossing his backpack inside the window Michael left open for him and throwing himself in after it.

He lands palms-first, tucking into a roll to absorb the momentum. He freezes, panting, by the leg of what is usually Amir’s bed, straining to hear past the crickets and cicadas.

One, two, three, four.

Nothing.

He’s good.

“Took your damn sweet time, didn’t you.”

“Hello to you too,” Lee grumbles, pushing himself upright. From across the cabin, lounging on his bed like a goddamn French monarch, is his dick of a brother, grinning like the little shit he is. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, most people say hello, et cetera, et cetera.”

Michael shrugs. “You’re late. I watched you on the hill; you coulda made that run twenty minutes ago.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“I’m always asking me.”

“Get over her, boogerbrain.”

“Real mature,” Michael mocks, but ambles over anyway. He retches like a twelve year old when Lee hugs him, but twists his hands in the back of Lee’s shirt when he lets go too fast. Lee hides his smile in his over-gelled hair.

“You might miss me less if you actually write me letters, you know.”

“I didn’t miss you,” he responds automatically. “And I wouldn’t have to write you letters if you stayed home, already.”

Lee sighs. “…I have school, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure your dumbass bio teachers have loads to teach the guy who can do open heart surgery with his eyes closed.”

“Yeah, yeah. If anyone could do with a good, old-fashioned, public school humbling, it would be you, hothead. You ready to go?”

Michael pulls away with a roll of his eyes. “Only since yesterday. Been waiting for your sorry ass.”

“My sorry — your sorry ass doesn’t have a car!”

Michael snickers, jogging back to his bunk and grabbing the black duffel bag resting under it. Lee makes quick work of packing his own bag, stuffing in a couple squares of ambrosia and and giant roll of bandages, just in case, before creeping over to the only bed left with someone still in it.

“Hey, kiddo.” He folds over the sheet pulled all the way over messy blonde curls, immediately plaguing the cabin with loud snoring. He rests his palm over a sleep-creased cheek, mapping his thumb over the freckles dotting pudgy cheekbones, and brushes back the hair plastered to his baby brother’s forehead. “Will, sweetheart, get up.”

It takes him a couple minutes of gentle prodding — when Will is out he is out — to wake up, squinting blearily in the dim fairy lights strewn across his bunk. He blinks, one, two, three, four, then gasps.

“Lee!”

“Oof,” Lee grunts, shifting his weight as he is abruptly accosted with an armful of child. He smiles, curling around Will’s flailing, chattering form, tightening his hold on his waist and resting his forehead on his shoulder. “Hi, buddy.”

“—missed you so much! Is this why your letter was late? Are you staying? Is this why Diana left yesterday? Is she here now? Is Cass coming? Is everybody coming? Can I —”

“C’mon, Motormouth,” Michael interrupts, cuffing Will’s ear as he walks by. “Go get your sneakers on. We’re going for a drive.”

“‘Kay,” Will days happily, dashing off to find the light-up Star Wars shoes he refuses to throw out, even though there are literal holes in the soles.

“You got his bag?”

“Yep,” Michael affirms, holding up a straining backpack. “Toothbrush. Hairbrush that he won’t use. Three comic books. Change of clothes. And two more changes of clothes for when he inevitably destroys the first one,” he adds when Lee opens his mouth. He shoots him an exasperated look. “Me and Diana have been chasing after the little brat for four months, dude. I got him.”

“Alright, alright,” Lee grumbles. “Heaven forbid I double-check.” He turns over to the door, where Will is tying his shoelaces, tongue peeking out of his mouth. “You ready, Will?”

He tugs on the two loops. The entire knot unravels. Quick as a flash, he stuffs the laces inside his shoes, scrambling to his feet.

“Yes,” he lies. He scratches at his throat.

Lee and Michel sigh in unison.

Luckily, the reaction is hardly more than itchy eyes and a cough. Lee herds him towards the door, sliding the backpack over his shoulders and holding out his arm and —

“Hold on a sec.”

“Why?” Will whispers.

“Shh,” Lee says.

Window cracked open, Michael exhales. The release of his bow hardly makes more than a soft hiss.

The angle is odd, limited space as there is, but Michael never misses — the clunky arrow whistles through the open window, sailing past the sloped roofs of the west wing cabins, and thunks somewhere behind the first layer of trees in the forest. Immediately, it lets loose a burst of sound identical to a dropped bottle and a group of teenagers cursing. In seconds, the curfew harpies are screeching, descending upon the source of the noise with the fury of a thousand sun chariots.

“Go go go go go,” Michael orders, wrenching open the door.

Will, immediately, takes off, gleeful at the opportunity to run away with permission (usually, he’s running from one of them, screeching at him to get back here). (Or Chiron, although Chiron has a much easier time catching up, what with the six limbs and all). (…Is Chiron an insect? Technically?)

“How long do we have?” Lee whispers, once Michael has caught up.

He shrugs. “Seven minutes, give or take? More than enough time.”

Lee worries his bottom lip. “More than…” He glances at the forest. Vaguely, in the low firelight, he can see the odd wing, hear the odd screech. Nothing looks very close. He glances at the rapidly approaching Athena cabin, just a few yards out of their way. Hm.

“Detour!” he decides. “Will, c’mon!”

Ignoring Michael’s hissed complaints, he veers towards to neatly maintained cabin. He slips in the space between Cabins Six and Four, holding tight to Will’s hand. He counts the windows as he passes — one, two, three, four — and stumbles to a stop, crouching down in the dirt.

“Oh, are you — for the love of Zeus.”

Lee ignores his eye-rolling, scanning the ground for pebbles. He selects a handful of them, careful not to choose anything too big, and jogs a few steps back.

“What’re you doing?” Will asks, too loud, but at least he tries to whisper.

Instead of answering, Lee launches the first pebble at the window.

It pings off harmlessly.

Waiting a breath for the harpies to come running, he continues, firing off pebble after pebble with increasing strength. Finally, after pebble #7, a face appears behind the clear glass, bleary eyes widening when they take in the sight in front of them. Quickly, the latches are undone, and the window is yanked open.

“Lee?!”

Lee grins. “Hey, Carter.”

“What’re you — you’re — it’s December! What’s going —”

“I need a favour,” Lee whispers. “Can you — cover for us?”

For the first time, Carter looks away, brows raising as he notices Micheal, who taps his (watchless) wrist obnoxiously, and Will, who waves brightly. Carter waves back, small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cover for you?”

“Just, like, infirmary stuff. I don’t think anything will happen, and if it does we’re an IM away, but —”

“Lee,” Carter says exasperatedly, “cover you guys for what?”

“Oh.” Lee clears his throat. “I, um. I need to do something for my family.”

Smiling, Carter rests his elbows on the windowsill, chin in his hands. “Mysterious.”

“We’ll be back by tomorrow evening,” Lee assures.

“And then you’ll stay for a bit?”

Lee’s mouth goes dry. “You want me to stay?”

Carter ducks his head, fingers tracing a mindless path on the windowsill. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you for a while.”

A thousand gods of prophecy could not predict the sound that comes out of Lee’s throat.

Something between a whimper and an awkward laugh, his voice cracks four seperate times. Carter giggles. Lee prays, genuinely, that a crater opens up beneath him and drops him right at Lord Hades’ feet.

“Everything okay, Lee?”

“Peachy,” he croaks.

Carter giggles again. Lee flushes. Michael gags exaggeratedly behind him, pausing mid-heave to whisper something to Will, and then there’s a giggle, and then two people fake-retching. Carter peeks through his dark eyelashes, pleased expression softening his heart-shaped face, and Lee counts twelve of his own capillaries straight-up explode.

“Well,” he says, too loudly. “I’m — well.”

“I think you have harpies to run from,” Carter suggests gently.

“Indeed.” Lee clears his throat, nodding. “As you have so astutely observed, we do —”

Michael, recognising the strained tone to his voice, groans. “Fucksake, Lee —”

“— and so I bid you adieu —”

“Dude, oh my gods, snap out of it —”

Lee can’t. He barely has control over his own mouth.

“— and vow to see you again in the eve.”

Feeling his soul exit his body, settle in front of him, and then crumple up and die, Lee fucking bows. There is the very distinctive sound of a hand slapping over a mouth, muffling an eruption of giggles, and then the hand of mercy, also known as Michael Yew, clamping on the back of his lava-hot neck.

“Please excuse him,” he says grandly. “He was dropped on his head as a child. He’s normal, usually.”

“Except when you wear your glasses,” Will pipes up. Lee makes a mental note to find Clarisse’s spear and shove it through his own eye. “He gets real weird when you wear your glasses. Once he walked into a wall and broke his nose.”

“…Did he.”

“Yep. And last time he —”

“God, this hurts me to say,” whispers Michael, “but I have to put a stop to this conversation. We’re on a time limit. C’mon, Will. Bye, Carter. Sorry for — well, you know. Apollonian dramatics, not always easy to control.”

He turns, dragging Lee, still hunched over, out of the Cabin Six shadow.

Lee does not un-hunch until they are well over the crest of Half-Blood Hill, harpy screeches beginning to echo behind them.

“I have never been more embarrassed to be related to you in my life,” Michael informs him, the second he’s upright. “Like, genuinely, I’m considering disowning you. That was atrocious, Fletcher. You need to get ahold of yourself. Where is your game? Your dignity?”

“I think he lost it when he was born,” Will says thoughtfully. “Or maybe when Carter smiled at him the first time.”

“I hate both of you,” Lee croaks.

Neither of them seem too incredibly bothered, snickering to each other as they duck into the car.

Willing his flush to go down, Lee herds them into his car. He takes a moment in the cool air to chill the hell out, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, then slips behind the wheel. He checks that Will is belted in properly, slips the car into neutral, and coasts down the road, waiting until Thalia’s tree slips out of sight before turning it on and hitting the gas.

“Where’re we goin’?

“You,” Michael says, flipping down the vanity mirror to glare sternly at Will, “are going to dreamland. It’s three in the morning. Time for bratty children to sleep.”

“What? No! I’m not tired!”

“Fine, fine,” Lee says, exchanging a grin with Michael. “Stay awake, then. As long as you like.”

Will narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“No trick?”

Lee crosses his fingers. “‘Course not.”

“Fine,” he relents. He settles into the booster seat Lee dragged out of the trunk for him (which he hates), arms crossed over his chest, and stares out the window.

Counting off on his fingers — one, two, three, four — Lee and Michael begin to hum.

At first, nothing happens. Will taps absentmindedly on his knees, humming along to the parts he knows, but soon his fingers slow. Lee and Michael keep it low and quiet, cycling through quiet folk songs Michael’s dad taught him, matching with the rumbling of the car, the slight breeze of Lee’s cracked open window. Michael kicks softly at the base of his seat, one, two, three, four; and matches the rhythm of the radio static, the click of the blinkers on every turn.

Will’s out in twenty minutes.

———

The drive is long.

Michael curls up sometime around four, fogging up the windows with every snore. Lee keeps the radio on a low hum, letting the background noise keep him focused as he navigates. The Atlantic Ocean is ink-black in the early morning, and the waves crash loud enough that he can hear them over the sounds of the engine, and for a while they’re still far enough from the city that the air smells fresh. Even when it starts to sour, and the noise gets a lot more urban, it’s early enough and he’s east enough that the traffic is minimal. Never non-existent — he actually cannot imagine what a traffic-less New York would look like; he doubts he’ll ever live to see it — but enough that he keeps at a steady 35.

The drive through Jersey is uneventful. Farmland and suburbs, nothing he hasn’t seen every day of his life, nothing he didn’t see the last time he made the drive. He entertains himself by counting every brown car he sees, randomly wagering the number by the time he gets there. He’s relieved when he finally crosses the memorial bridge, driving down the exit ramp and pulling into the first big parking lot he sees. Michael wakes up as he puts the car in gear, killing the engine.

“We here?” he asks, popping the joints along his spine.

Lee yawns. “Pretty much, yeah. Pulled off the highway.”

“‘Kay.” He glances in the backseat, where Will is starting to stir. “You nap. I’m gonna find a place for him to change and brush his teeth, maybe get breakfast for all of us.”

“Sounds good”

He crawls in the backseat as Michael guides Will out of it, accepting the blanket tossed his way. He slides his hoodie over his face, lies back, and conks out in minutes.

———

“Yo, Lee. Get up. I got food.”

“Timizzit?” he asks, shaking the grogginess from his limbs.

“Eleven. You slept for four hours. We gotta be at the theatre in an hour.”

“When’s she on?”

“Fuck if I know, man. Diana said noon, I’m gonna be there at noon. You wanna piss off Diana?”

“No.” He rubs the heel of his palm into his eyes, reaching blindly in the direction of Michael’s voice. “Food, please.”

A bag of grease is deposited into his waiting hand. He is pleased to find three cheeseburgers within it, and immediately tears into them with a fervour that can only be described as ‘ravenous’, or perhaps ‘revolting’. Esurient, perhaps, if one was feeling poetic.

Finally awake enough to function, Lee looks critically at the scene in front of him. Michael is dressed in the same button-up and slacks he wears to his dad’s performances, on the years he’s in the U.S., and Will is in jeans without grass stains, real shoes, hair mostly brushed. Michael has even managed to find a shirt that’s not half-unraveled from Will picking at the seams.

“Nice,” he says, nodding in approval.

Michael picks at his nails, visibly preening. “Oh, it was no big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Dweeb.”

He polishes off his last burger, then ducks inside the nearest store to find somewhere to get changed. Diana told them it didn’t matter, really, what they wore, but Lee knows better. He knows what this means for Cass, and while yeah, sure, it wouldn’t really matter if he showed up in sweatpants, he wants to show her that he put in the effort. That even if her mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, they will. All of them. He wants her to see them and know that they did this for her. He wants her to see them and know that they tried, that they care.

Hair perfectly placed and clothes as unwrinkled as he can get them, he hurries back to the car. The theatre isn’t far, and they have a little under an hour, but he doesn’t want to push it. Finding parking will be hard enough.

“Are we on a quest?” Will asks, five minutes out on the road.

“Eight year olds don’t go on quests.”

“Diomedes was ten when he fought the Trojan war.”

“Are you Diomedes?”

“No.”

“Are you ten?”

“No.”

“Then no quests for you.”

“Aw.”

“Your quest can be being quiet for twenty minutes,” Michael grumbles, making a face when Will sticks his tongue out at him.

———

part two

#writint michael was SO FUN and also a bit of a challenge bc he is a bitch #god i love him #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #lee fletcher #michael yew #will solace #cabin seven #cabin seven kids #lee fletcher & will solace #michael yew & will solace #lee fletcher & michael yew #my writing #fic #longpost

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hnychn · 7 months

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I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME

SUMMARY — If there is anything that is universally acknowledged to be wholly true and incontestable, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But does she know that?

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i got into a huge argument with my father a while back and it’s been weighing on my conscience. this series is largely based on our relationship and it’s been so therapeutic to write everything out and indirectly give myself an ending i want. the series isn’t complete, if anything, it’s no where near done. i want to make sure everything is perfect before i even think about posting the first chapter. its been so long since i’ve felt this strong need to write and i forgot how much of a beautiful feeling it is. everywhere i look and everything i see gives me so much inspiration for this series. but for now, here’s a little sneak peak of my new child.

(i am him as he is me spotify playlist)

SERIES WARNINGS — heavy religious themes, female reader, sugugeto, heavy angst, child abuse, childhood neglect, reader is a brat in the beginning, reader is assumed to be a person of color…

TOTAL WORD COUNT — tbd…

BEFORE YOU READ — the reader is mentioned to be a third year at jujutsu tech, and i completely understand the ages and time line don’t add up, but for the sake of creativity, let’s all just pretend it makes sense and ignore the age inconsistencies. <33 thank you!! <33

PREVIEW —

The rhythmic buzz of the cicadas and the sweltering humidity of the summer air marked the beginning of summer and the end of… everything. Satoru could feel the material of his pants begin to stick to his legs the longer he sat on the rotting wooden bench. The train tracks before him were rusted and old; they had weathered the storm of time and had the marks to prove it. These tracks were the end. The led you to the beginning. All Satoru had to do was wait.

—

“Maybe it was because I knew she would always come back to me. Maybe I was testing her love for me. Maybe I wanted to push her away before she pushed me away.”

“That’s a lot of maybes.”

“There’s a lot of regret.”

Satoru could still feel the weight of that nostalgic love and regret in his stomach. It has buried itself so deep within him, he’s hardly sure anything would make it go away. The woman next to him looks different now; youthful, free. Satoru wants that. But does he deserve it?

I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME [MASTERLIST]

— CHAPTER ONE: “He Doesn’t Know I Learned it From Him.”

Gojo Satoru, in all aspects, is a God reborn. He holds the world and its universes in the palm of his flaming hand; unknowingly burning everything he holds dear.

— CHAPTER TWO: “I Was a Girl Gulping a Woman’s Grief.”

With an emotionally distant mother and a father plagued with a god complex, there weren’t many people you could look up to. maybe, you have to look down.

— CHAPTER THREE: “Do You Believe Me When I Tell You I’m Trying to be Better?”

With tensions at an all-time high, it’s hard to ignore what has gone neglected for so long. Dams are broken and feelings are hurt, but if there’s one thing everyone knows, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything. But does she know that?

— CHAPTER FOUR: “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.”

There is nothing more heroic than the sacrifices made by a mother. But what is born of those sacrifices made? Virtue? Honour? Strength? You knew the answer to that question all too well: Guilt.

— CHAPTER FIVE: “Desperation Sits Heavy on my Tongue.”

You and your father are more alike than either of you are led to believe. He doesn’t reach. You don’t beg. Where does the tension snap?

— CHAPTER SIX: “Through Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honoured One.”

Hymns were sung at his birth and prophecies were written for his future, in all aspects, Gojo Satoru was a god reborn. But who is a God to a little girl searching for her father?

#jjk x reader #jujitsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fem reader #daughter reader #megumi x reader #tsumiki x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #shoko x reader #itadori x reader #nobara x reader #maki x reader #yuta x reader #dad gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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stalkerofthegods · 6 months

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Apollo Cheat sheet

God of - prophecy and oracles, Music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young, divine distance, fertility, knowledge, dancing, wolves, locust, doorways, mice, entrances, foreigners, happy travels, light, omens, averting evil and harm, boundaries, and borders, laurels, mildews, the god who punishes and destroys, he helps and wards off evil, he protects the flocks and cattle, the foundation of towns and the establishment of civil constitutions, protection of young boys, god of purification, he’s also a Psychopomp.

Symbols- The lyre, Silver bow & arrows, Dolphins, Swans, Crows, Ravens, Lions, Wolves, Wolves, Mice, Griffins, Hawks, Snakes, Laurel wreath, Fire/flame, The sun/sunlight, Tripod, Apples

Incense/scents - Bay, Frankincense, Cypress, Clove, Cinnamon, Mugwort, Myrrh, hythincath, Rays of light radiating from his head, Branch of laurel, Wreath, amber, myrrh, lily of the valley, frankinscences, orange, lemongrass, marjoram

Colors • orange and yellow, red, gold and pure white blue, pink (means healing) purple and green (associated with the Oracle)

Herbs• Palm Tree, Apple Tree, Poplar Tree, Mistletoe, cinnamon, myrrh, bay leafs, sunflowers and red roses, oak wood, cypress (his veey dear friend ((not a lover or crush))), mint, heliotrope, Goldenseal, Date Palm, orange, lemongrass, marjoram

elements • his element is light

Day, month and festivals• Yule, Midsummer, May, sunday, his festivals are Noumenia, Delphinia, Thargelia, Apatouria, Pyanepsia, Asklepia (maybe), Pandia (maybe)

Patron of - medicine, mental health, physical health, therapy, the alphabet/words, defender of herds and flocks, justice, prophecy, and mental and moral purity, herdsmen and shepherds, anything in the medical field.

What I resonate with him • resseces pieces (I forgot why), Raven, lyre, lemonade, yellow, sun, bob Ross, painting, singing, humming, melody, Oracle’s, prophecies, knowledge, Purification, suns/ stars

Crystals•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli

His sacred items - Bow and arrows; lyre; the wreath of laurel leaves (he wears that which is to be understood as Daphne’s hair.)

Planet - The sun

Tarot card- the sun, the chariot

Number - 7

Animals - Wolf, griffin, dolphins, Swans, foxes, roe deer, swans, cicadas, hawks, ravens, crows, foxes, mice, and snakes

Signs he's reaching out• Significant Dream Encounters of him, Frequent Solar Imagery, Increased Interest in the Arts, Strong Connection to Healing, seeing his Symbols and Animals, having Prophetic Experiences, finding yourself seeking the truth all of the sudden, Attraction to Light and Warmth

What u could put on his alter • Sun water, Wine (diluted with pure water), Milk, Olive oil, Herbal teas, Honey, honey cakes, Orange and lemon pastries, Lamb meat, goat meat, Fruits, Cheeses, Wheat, Breads, Golden objects (ex- such as gold bowls, gold wine cups, flakes of gold), Bows and arrows (real or fake), art, Images of the sun, All musical instruments, (especially stringed instruments), Wolf imagery, dolphin imagery, Any images of birds (especially crows and swans), Yellow, gold, and white candles, Incense he likes. He likes his alters Neat, clean, not cluttered, orderly, surround him with who he loves (ex- past lovers, Leto, artemis) , add images of wolves, mice, and ravens, Wine, incense, gifts of solar imagery, oranges

Other titles of apollon• ABAEUS/ Abaios (derived from the town of Abae in Phocis),

ACERSE′COMES/Akersekomês (Apollo expressive of his beautiful hair which was never cut or shorn.) ACE′SIUS/ Akesios (surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in Elis, This surname, which has the same meaning as akestôr and alexikakos as the god of averter of evil), ACESTOR/Akestôr (A surname of Apollo which characterises him as the god of the healing art, or in general as the averter of evil, like akesios), ACTIACUS (a surname of Apollo, derived from Actium, AEGLE′TES/Aiglêtês (that is, the radiant god), AGE′TOR/Agêtôr (a surname given to several gods, example is Zeus at Lacedaemon) AGO′NIUS/Agônios (a surname or epithet of several gods, like Zeus), AGRAEUS/Agraios (the hunter a surname of Apollo After he had killed the lion of Cithaeron), AGYIEUS/Aguieus (a a title describing him as the protector of the streets and public places), ALEXI′CACUS/ Alexikakos (the averter of evil, is a surname given by the Greeks to several deities like Zeus.), AMAZO′NIUS/ Amazonios, AMYCLAEUS/Amuklaios, ARCHE′GETES/Archêgetês (A surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in several places, as at Naxos in Sicily), Megara (The name has reference either to Apollo as the leader and protector of colonies, or as the founder of towns in general, in which case the import of the name is the same as theos patroôs.), BOEDRO′MIUS/ Boêdromios (the helper in distress), CARNEIUS/ Karneiosx, CATAE′BATES/Kataibatês (invoked by this name to grant a happy return home, katabasis (to those who were travelling abroad), CHRYSAOR/Chrusaôr) (The god with the golden sword or arms), CLA′RIUS/ Klarios (derived from his celebrated temple at Claros in Asia Minor), CO′RYDUS/Korudos (from the temple eighty stadia from Corone, on the sea-coast), CY′NTHIUS and CY′NTHIA/Kunthia and Kunthios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo from island of Delos, which is their birthplace), DAPHNAEUS and DAPHNAEA/Daphnaia and Daphnaios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo), DECATE′PHORUS/ Dekatêphoros (that is, the god to whom the tenth part of the booty is dedicated), DE′LIUS and DE′LIA/ Dêlios and Dêlia or Dêlias (surnames of Apollo and Artemis respectively), DELPHINIUS and DELPHI′NIA/ Delphinia (a surname of Artemis at Athens & The masculine form Delphinius is used as a surname of Apollo), EPACTAEUS or EPA′CTIUS/ Epaktaios or Epaktios (the god worshipped on the coast, was also used as a surname of Poseidon in Samos) EPIBATE′RIUS/ Epibatêrios (the god who conducts men on board a ship), EPICU′RIUS/ Epikourios (the helper),

EUTRESITES/Eutrêsitês (derived from Eutresis, where he had a ancient Oracle), GALA′XIUS/Galaxios a (from Boeotia, derived from the stream Galaxius),

HEBDOMA′GETES/Hebdomagetês (was derived from the fact of sacrifices being offered to him on the seventh of every month, the seventh of some month which became the god's birthday), HECAERGUS/Hekaergos (same meaning as Hecaerge in the case of Artemis),HY′LATUS/Hulatos (derived from the town of Hyle in Crete, which was sacred to him), INTONSUS/unshorn, (surname of Apollo and Bacchus showing the eternal youth of these gods, beacuse the Greek youths allowed their hair to grow until they attained the age of manhood), ISME′NIUS/Ismenios (A surname of Apollo at Thebes), ISO′DETES/Isodetêg (the god who binds all equally, is also used as a surname of Pluto),I′XIUS/Ixios (derived from a district of the island of Rhodes which was called Ixiae or Ixia.), LAPHRAEUS/Laphraios (a surname of Apollo at Calydon), LEUCA′DIUS/ Leukasios (a son of Icarius and Polycaste, and a brother of Penelope and Alyzeus. Leucas was believed to have derived its name from him), LIBYSTI′NUS, LOE′MIUS/Loimios (the deliverer from plague),

LO′XIAS/Loxias (derived by some from his intricate and ambiguous oracles), LYCE′GENES/Lukêgenês (describing him either as the god born in Lycia, or as the god born of light), LYCEIUS/Lukeios (the meaning is not quite certain, some derive it from lukos, a wolf, so that it would mean "the wolf-slayer;" others from lukê, light, according to which it would mean "the giver of light;"), LY′CIUS/Lukios (the Lycian, a surname of Apollo, who was worshipped in several places of Lycia),

LYCO′REUS/Lukôreus (A surname of Apollo perhaps in the same sense as Lyceius), MALEATES/Maleatês (surname of Apollo, derived from cape Malea, in the south of Laconia),MARMARINUS/Marmarinos (the god of marble), MALLOEIS and MELUS/Mêlos (A son of Manto, from which the sanctuary of Apollo Malloeis in Lesbos was believed to have derived its name), MOIRA′GETES/Moiragetês (the guide or leader of fate, occurs as a surname of Zeus and Apollo at Delphi) MUSA′GETES/MUSAE (?), NO′MIUS/Noumios (surname of divinities protecting the pastures and shepherds sheared with Apollo, Pan. Hermes, and Aristaeus) ONCAEUS/Onkaios (a surname of Apollo derived from Oncesium on the river Ladon in Arcadia), PAEAN/Paian, Paiêôn or Paiôn (meaning "the healing," however, used also in the more general sense of deliverer from any evil or calamity, PAGASAEUS/ Pagasaios/the Pagasaean, from Pegasus, or Pegasae, (town in Thessaly, uses the surname of Apollo there.), PALATI′NUS, (surname of Apollo at Rome), PARNO′PIUS/Paruopios (the expeller of locusts) paruôps (a surname of Apollo, under which he had a statue on the acropolis at Athen), PARRHA′SIUS/Parrastos (A surname of Apollo, who had a sanctuary on Mount Lyceius, meaning “the helper”, PATAREUS/Patareus (derived from the Lycian town of Patara, where the god used to spend the six winter months in every year), PHILE′SIUS/Philêsios (surname of Apollo at Didyma, where Branchus was said to have founded a sanctuary of the god, and to have introduced his worship) PHOEBUS/ Phoibos (the shining, pure or bright, occurs both as an epithet and a name of Apollo), PHY′XIUS/Phuzios (the god who protects fugitives, also occurs as a surname of Zeus in Thessaly), PY′THIUS/Puthios the Pythian, from Pytho (the ancient name of Delphi, often occurs as a surname of Apollo), SALGANEUS/Salganeus (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Salganeus in Boeotia), SARPEDONIUS and SARPEDO′NIA/Sarpêdonia (a surname of Artemis, derived from cape Sarpedon in Cilicia, where she had a temple with an oracle, The masculine Sarpedonius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Cilicia.) SMINTHEUS/Smintheus (a surname of Apollo, which is derived by some from sminthos, a mouse, and from the town of Sminthe in Troas), SPO′DIUS/Spodios (a surname of Apollo at Thebes, derived from spodos, ashes, because his altar consisted of the ashes of the victims which had been sacrificed to him.), TEGYRE′IUS/Tegurêios (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Tegyra in Boeotia. where, according to some traditions, the god had been born), TELMI′SSIUS/Telmissios (a surname of Apollo derived from the Lycian town of Telnissus or Telmessus),TEMENITES/Temenitês (a surname of Apollo, derived from his sacred temenus in the neighbourhood of Syracuse), THEOXE′NIUS/Theoxenios (a surname of Apollo and Hermes), THYMBRAEUS/Thumbraios (A surname of Apollo, derived from a place in Troas called Thymbra, where he had a temple in which Achilles was wounded, or from a neighboring hill of the same name), ZOSTERIUS and ZOSTE′RIA/Zôstêria (a surname of Athena among the Epicnemidian Locrians, The masculine form Zosterius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Attica, on the slip of land stretching into the sea between Phaleron and Sunium)

Epithets•Abaeus, Apollo Acesius, Acestor, Acraephiaeus Apollo, Acraephius Apollo, Actiacus Apollo, Apollo Actiacus, Apollo Aegletes, Agetor, Agonius, Agraeus, Agyieus, Alexicacus,Amazonius, Anextiomarus, Aphetor Apollo, Aphetorius Apollo, Apollo Musagetes, Apollo Soranus, Apollo Apotropaeus, Apulu, Archegetes, Argyrotoxus Apollo, Apollo Articenens, Apollo Averruncus, Apollo Clarius, Apollo Coelispex, Apollo Culicarius, Apollo Cynthius, Apollo Cynthogenes, Delius Apollo, Apollo Delius, Apollo Delphinius, Apollo Didymaeus, Apollo Epicurius Apollo Galaxius, Apollo Genetor, Hecaërgus Apollo, Apollo Hecebolus, Hekatos, Helius Apollo, Apollo Helius, Apollo Iatromantis, Apollo Iatrus, Apollo Ismenius, Kourotrophos, Apollo Leschenorius, Leucadius, Apollo Loxias, Apollo Lycegenes, Lyceus, Apollo Lycoctonus, Manticus Apollo, Apollo Medicus, Apollo Nomius, Apollo Nymphegetes, Paean (god), Apollo Paean, Apollo Parnopius, Apollo Patroüs, Apollo Phanaeus, Ptoion, Ptous, Pythius Apollo, Apollo Pythius, Apollo Smintheus, Apollo Sosianus, Thyraeus, Virotutis. (I’m not gonna put who, why or what the epithets are, cut me some slack 😔)

Equivalents• Abru (Berber), Horus & Ra (Egyptian), Aplu (Etruscan), Helios (Greek), Apollo & Janus (Roman), Nergal (Aplu Enlil) (Semitic)

Offerings• Candles (he’s the god of light), Paint brushes/paints, Canvases, Colored pencils, markers, crayons, Collages, Journals, Art books, Art prints, Anything you mad, Sculptures, Zines, Stickers, Any art supplies, Music boxes, Records, CDs,Cassettes, Record players,radios, MP3, Headphones, Music posters, Band merch, Instruments (especially String instruments), Dance shoes, Concert tickets, CD book holders, Sun and Light imagery, Sunscreen, Aloe for sunburns, Golden objects, Matches, Candles, Sunflowers/sunflower seeds, First aid kits, Medicine, Pain relievers, Band - aids, Ice/heat packs, Rice socks, face Masks, Aloe, Ambulance toy cars,Adaptive aids, Darts, Bow and arrows, Arrow quiver, Dart board, Targets used in archery, Bullseye used in archery, Snake skins, Snake imagery (ex - Python), Laurels, Bay leaves (because of Daphne), Palm trees (based on his birth myth), Ravens/Crows related things, Crow feathers, Cattle/turtles (related to Hermes birth myth), Swans (the animals Pull His chariot), Hyacinths (Hyacinthus is his past lover), Locks of hair, Vanilla flavored/scented things , Honey, Sunny D drink, Lemons/lemon juice, Oranges/orange juice, Citrus, Water, chocolate milk (UPG), molten orange-scented wax cube used on an oil burner, The first bite of every meal (keep a tea plate close by at mealtimes), Pot Pourri, visit a clairvoyant, Welcome foreigners, teach others your own culture/language, make sure foreigners are able to find helpful resources and social life in your community, Make sure the street outside your house is clean and secure, Resin, Sun-shaped cookies or cakes, Wine, Golden cakes, Golden raisins.

Devonatal- Donate to medical charities, Support beginner indie artists and musicians, Sing to Him, Play musical instruments for Him, Hold dance parties in his honor, Make a playlist for Him and listen to it, Read poetry to Him, Take care of your mental health in his honor, take your medicine in his honor, Try/do archery in his honor, Try/do different types of divination (ex- Tarot/Oracle decks, Pendulums, Rune stones, Charm casting supplies, Crystal balls, Scrying bowls, Cookie fortunes, Tea leaves), Try and wake up early and watch the sun rise, Go for a walk and feel the warmth from the sun, Let more sunlight into your home/room, Learn a musical instrument, learn how to sing, Learn simple medical care (ex- CPR), research his family in his honor, research Apollon, Attend pride, advocate for LGBT+ rights, Wear yellow clothing in his honor, wear orange clothing in his honor, Honor Leto and Artemis in his honor, Pray to Him/ speak to Him often (ex- for guidance, healing/good health, and new inspiration, protection, improvement in your mental health, fertility, ecstasy, for everything going well in the health aspect), Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like, Throw a feast in His honor, Support/donate to your local Hospital in his honor, Exercise in his honor, Get vaccinated in his honor, Get STI tested in his honor, practice Self care in his honor, Keep a first aid kit at home/in your car in his honor, Learn about alternative medicine in his honor, Advocate for accessible in his honor, Advocate for disability rights in his honor, Volunteer at a hospital in his honor, Give blood/plasma in his honor; Volunteer at a retirement home in his honor, Learn about anatomy/biology/nutrition in his honor, Learn about health conditions/rare disorders in his honor, Eat healthy for your body in his honor, Help fund surgeries if you can in his honor, Trip sit for someone in his honor, Listen to your body when it needs something in his honor , Sunbathe in his honor, Wear sunscreen in his honor, Start a garden in his honor, Make sun water in his honor, Music Go to a concert/show, Listen to music in his honor, Make a playlist for someone you love in his honor, dance in general in his honor, Sing in general in his honor, Support local bands in his honor, Explore new music in his honor, Daily tarot card/rune stones sessions in his honor, Make an oracle deck in his honor, Give divination readings in his honor, do Shadow work in his honor , do Colormancy in his honor, Make something in his honor, Draw in his honor, paint in his honor, craft in his honor, Color something for him, Make a zine in his honor, Go see a play in his honor, Get a tattoo in his honor, Throw darts in his honor, Use a slingshot in his honor, Go to a shooting range in his honor, follow and support artist/poet YouTubers and their social media, Check in with your neighbors, do Photography (painting with light), light a candle in his honor because he’s the of…light!

Crystal•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli, amber, calcite (only the color honey/yellow), quartz (rutilated or clear), rose quartz.

Parentage• Zues and Leto

Siblings• his full sibling was his twin Artemis, His half siblings were Athena, Hermes, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Ares, Hephaestus and Persephone, Heracles, Ares, Perseus, Hebe, Aphrodite, Athena, Some Muses, Eileithyia.

Works well with• people who are respectful, and are honest, and not boastful.

Jewelry • friendship bracelets

Hates• saying that your better than him, (too boastful), being to stubborn to learn (he is the god of knowledge.), and anything contradicting his godlyness

Mortal or immortal • immortal.

Zodiac • Leo.

Curses• Sickness, and often seeing yourself lying, and in trouble.

Blessings• your healthy and protection and purification.

Vows/omans• he swears he will be Hermes best friend, and that he will never marry (he still has godpouses, pretty frequently, just as a boyfriend) because he swore he would never because he couldn't choose between all the Muses.

Morals• Morally grey.

Courting• he is unmarried.

Past lovers & crushes• Admetus (a crush), Daphne (rejected him and he fell so in love she had to run away and turn into a tree..), all the nine muses (couldn’t choose so decided to never unwed), Cyrene (a crush), Evadne (a lover who bore him a child.), Rhoeo (bore him a child and made him raise it..) Ourea (had a crush on Apollo and they hooked up on his exile and bore him a kid), Thero, Hyrie or Thyrie (said they were lovers but he made them suicidal so..idk..). Hecuba (bore the child who made Apollo kill Achilles.), Coronis (bore him Asclepius), Creusa (bore him a child and left him to die and then to be raised by a priestess of Apollo.), Hyacinthus (his most dear male lover.), Cyparissus (a dear friend but still a honorable mention.), Admetus (a crush), Branchus, Adonis (poly with apollon and Aphrodite), Helenus, Hippolytus of Sicyon,Hymenaios, god of marriage hymns, Iapis, Phorbas, minthe (who he turned into mint)

Personality• He has a quick temper, He’s very energetic, cheerful, wise, honest and kind, but sometimes he could be jealous (from what I've heard.)

Fact• He was the god of so many things that even the Ancient Greeks got confused, Apollo was temporarily stripped of his immortal power by Zeus – twice (maybe y’all might have a little more in common with being atleast human once!), he tried to over throw his father Zeus once! (He failed.)

Roots• Greek mythology, born at Delos in Cyclades archipelago.

Appearance in astral or gen• depicted as a handsome, beardless youth with long hair and wears a wreath and branch of laurel, bow and quiver of arrows, usually accompanied with a raven, and holding a lyre.

Children• Acraepheus, Aeneus, Agamedes, Agreus, Amphiaraus, Amphissus, Amphithemis, Anius, Apis, Apollonis, Arabius, Aristaeus, Asclepius, Borysthenis, Cephisso, Chariclo, Cinyras, Coronus, Cycnus, Delphus, Dius, Dorus, Dryops of Oeta, Eleuther, Epidaurus, Eriopis, Erymanthus, Eumolpus, Eurydice, Eurynome, Hilaeira, Hymen (god), Ialemus, Iamus, Idmon (Argonaut), Ion, Ismenus, Korybantes, Laodocus, Lapithes (hero), Linus (Argive), Linus, Linus of Thrace, Lycomedes, Lycorus, Melaneus of Oechalia, Melite, Miletus, Mopsus, Naxos, Oaxes, Oncius, Orpheus, Phemonoe, Philammon, Philander, Phoebe, Phylacides, Polypoetes, Scylla, Syrus, Tenerus, Tenes, Troilus, Trophonius, Zeuxippus of Sicyon.

Pet• the swans pulling his chariot called the “singers of Apollo” or just “birds of Apollo”

Status• Greek mythology god, in the big theoi, not a Demi god.

Prayers•

Prayer to Lord Apollon for Help with Divination

Hear me, Foreseeing Apollon, Son of Indomitable Zeus and Gentle Leto, Brother to Far-Shooting Artemis. He who speaks of truth, If I have ever revelled in your sunlight, accept this prayer, Apollon Leader of Fate, I ask you to be with me during this divination and to guide my cards with your knowledge, I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, I offer to you (offering)- @praise-to-the-theoi

To Lord Apollon when taking medication

Hear me, healing Apollon, Father to Soothing Asklepios. He who controls both plague and healing, If I have ever honoured you, please accept this prayer, Shining Apollon, Please allow me to be safe when taking this medication, to aid it in its effectiveness, and to reduce the likelihood of negative side effects. I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, and I take this medication in your honour. -https://www.tumblr.com/praise-to-the-theoi

Prayer to Artemis and Apollon

Praise today, O Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis, rulers upon the Sun and Moon. The Celestial Twins, on this date, join each other in the sky, shining upon us their divine light and presence. Praise the children of Great Zeus and Leto; Hail Lady Artemis, the oldest daughter, who helped her mother at birth. Godess of the hunt, divine virgin, patroness of girls, their childhood and innocence. Hail Apollon, youngest son, born by his sister's hand. God of the plages and sickness. Patron of the arts, music and poetry. May they raise their bows and guide us towards their light. - serotoninbetweenpages

Prayer with his epithets in it-

Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo; Immortal, gloriously formed, unshorn, soft-haired, Stern-hearted, king, delighting in arrows, giver of life, Joyous, laughing, slayer of giants, sweet-hearted, Son of Zeus, slayer of dragons, lover of the laurel, Sweet of speech, of ample might, far-shooter, giver of hope, Creator of animals, divine, Jove-minded, giver of zeal, Mild, sweet-spoken, sweet-hearted, gentle-handed, Slayer of beasts, blooming, charmer of the spirit, soft-speaking, Shooter of arrows, desirable, healer, charioteer, Weaver of the world, Clarian, strong-hearted, father of fruits, Son of Leto, pleasant, delighting in the lyre, resplendent, Lord of the mysteries, prophet, magnanimous, thousand-shaped, Lover of the bow-string, wise, stiller of grief, sober,Lover of community, common to all, taking thought for all, benefactor of all, Blessed, making blessed, Olympian, dweller on the hills, Gentle, all-seeing, sorrowless, giver of wealth, Saviour from trouble, rose-coloured, man-breaker, path-opener, Glittering, wise, father of light, saviour, Delighting in the dance, Titan, initiator, revered, Chanter of hymns, highest, stately, of the height, Phoebus, purifier, lover of garlands, cheerer of the spirit, Utterer of oracles, golden, golden-complexioned, golden-arrowed, Lover of the lyre, harper, hater of lies, giver of the soul, Swift-footed, swift-voiced, swift of vision, giver of seasons. Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo.

- Epigram from Book 9 of the Greek Anthology, translated by W.R. Paton (1916-18)

Links/websites/sources •

@praise-to-the-theoi

ofbloodandfaith

Reddit · r/Hellenism5 comments · 1 year agosimple offerings for apollo? : r/Hellenism

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo#Children https://www.thoughtco.com/roman-equivalents-of-greek-gods-4067799https://www.reddit.com/r/Hellenism/comments/d20s5v/would_amber_be_an_appropriate_incense_for_apollo/https://www.reddit.com/r/GreekMythology/comments/du0z4k/did_the_olympian_gods_have_particular_color/https://www.tumblr.com/eldritchhorror06https://www.tumblr.com/themodernwitchsguidehttps://web.pdx.edu/~scarmody/art342/exercise2/index.html#:~:text=Animals%20sacred%20to%20Apollo%20include,foxes%2C%20mice%2C%20and%20snakes.

let the light in and let your truth of loving Apollo shine aswell

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insanermin · 14 days

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searching for a heart another world away…

✮ the week rushes by, and faint memories of reality remind you of your responsibilities, disrupting nameless dreams.

while feeling drowsy and your eyelids urging and begging you to rest, your senses experience the comfort of your former state, numbed by sleep. to your surprise, the bleak clouds weren't affected by the fast-paced manner of life, and its sorrows were apparent at the mercy of your window.

heavy limbs have forgotten their purpose, keeping you close to the warmth that awakens your senses. a feeling of security tickles your skin as your body remembers ellie’s shape, your curves fitting in hers.

your fingers trace the back of her hand as her palm rests on your hip until you've decided that feeling her warmth under your fingertips isn't enough. you need to see her. as you turn around, you snuggle up to the auburn-haired woman, observing the freckles akin to a starry sky on a summer night. instead of hearing the constant buzzing of cicadas, it is ellie’s steady breath you hear, tickling your flushed face. a snore escapes her mouth, a giggle yours. the sound of rain drowns out the hectic reality that awaits you outside the comfort of these four walls, only for you to treasure this moment a little longer.

you wouldn't dare to wake her up, her untroubled and peaceful expression was a rare sight. but your heart acts on a whim, and you find yourself tucking a loose strand behind her ear. ellie’s hair grazes under the tip of your fingers, and a small ‘oh’ escapes your mouth, as she barely tilts her head, eyes tightly shut. the sleepy woman groans and her face is all scrunched up at the thought of being awake, an expression closer to her ordinary. while ignorance baits you into believing that you memorized the ridges of her skin, goosebumps wrap your shoulders, her rough hands are searching for yours to hold.

“els?” you whisper, drowsy eyes meeting yours. no answer, she must've fallen back asleep, you think to yourself. but as her fingertips graze the palm of your hand, finding a place to rest as your fingers intertwine, your body starts to crave the warmth it absorbed ever so selfishly.

it was a feeling you couldn't remember, but it was engraved on your skin.

but not shortly after, your lover's body shifts, and your fingers untangle.

you let out a barely audible sigh, you wish your feelings of disappointment were as ignorable as the sound of rain knocking against the window. how could you blame a sleeping person? you close your eyes as you listen to the sound of ellie sleeping. and this time it didn't wash your worries away, your chest filled up with guilt while your lungs were carrying the shame that lingered with every breath you took. it wasn't that big of a deal, but you were upset with yourself, you knew that your girlfriend had trouble sleeping, it was selfish, at least you thought so.

maybe if you faced the window and watched the morning unfold, your heavy feelings would morph into the clouds passing by. so you turn around, away from ellie.

"silly," she whispers. her raspy, low voice surprised you, putting the thoughts that were plaguing you on hold. a small sound escapes your mouth as you turn back around, you lift your head, tired eyes meeting hers once again.

and even if ellie was barely awake, she reads the words your tired eyes carry, words that never dared to leave the tip of your tongue. their meaning so precious, that your lover holds her arm out for you to find comfort in, so precious that holding the world in her palms meant cupping the back of your head and gently pulling you close to her.

"c'mere," the sleepy woman says, her voice vibrates through her chest into your ear. you wrap your arms around her body, inch closer until your bodies touch and warmth fills the gaps where skin can't reach. you rest your head right on her chest and ellie places a kiss on your forehead, then another into your hair, warmth is spreading through your body as if it never left in the first place. and it was true, ellie was always warm, always there. ✮

#ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie fluff #the last of us #lesbian #wlw

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lea-andres · 1 month

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@pacdevil and I were discussing different seasonal events that could be fun in Stardew Valley (because I am still obsessed with the green rain) last night on Discord. I'm still obsessed so I'll move them here.

- Solar Eclipse - Everyone's avoiding Demetrius and Harvey all week before the eclipse like the plague lmao. Demetrius keeps cornering everyone to ramble about the science of the upcoming event, Harvey keeps handing out eclipse glasses and making it known that if anyone melts their eyes during the eclipse he will kill them. (Shane pre-6 Heart: What if I melted my eyes on purpose? Just kidding, haha... ...Unless...) During the actual eclipse itself maybe we could have a cute graphic in the corner showing off what the sun's looking like as it starts to darken in game. Animals start acting weird. Most everyone's all up in the mountains at Robin and Demetrius's place watching. (Demetrius and Maru have the telescope and several other pieces of equipment out.) Someone made sure Linus got glasses so he can safely watch it too. 🥹

- Fog - This was pacdevil's idea lmao. Spooky fog rolls in off the sea in the fall. Can't see shit. Willy freaks out half the town with fog at sea scary stories (admits next day he was just yanking everyone's legs lmao)

- Blizzard - Also can't see shit, maybe you slowly take damage if you just stand outside not doing anything in it, maybe some routes around are blocked off by snow drifts. Most people are in the Saloon, roaring fire going and hot drinks passed around. I bet Leah and Elliott don't have heating in their homes and will tell you all about that lmao. Someone haul Linus inside, PLEASE! If you're cold, he's cold! 😭

-Cicadas - If ConcernedApe wanted to be really funny this would happen on Year 7 lmao. A big brood of cicadas emerge from the ground and are on every tree, buzzing. Most people in town are grossed out, Demetrius is having a fucking blast.

#stardew valley #sdv #i'm not tagging everyone

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moonlitdesertdreams · 4 months

Text

By the Sea (part 1/?)

A/N: Why am I on a True Blood kick in February of 2024? I have no idea, but please enjoy if you also are. Tags: Eric Northman, vampires, Eric Northman True Blood, True Blood Imagines, Eric Northman x OC, Eric Northman x mythical creature!reader, Eric Northman x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-typical swearing, overwhelming amounts of sweet, confused Eric Summary: Eric's been cursed to forget all his memories, but you stick out... and have to deal with the aftermath.

Word count: 1.6k+

You had no interest in meeting with the new King of Louisiana.

Bill Compton’s new position as King had given you nothing but pause, and part of you recognized his calling upon Eric as a power play.

So you lounged in the back office at Fangtasia, drifting in and out of consciousness. You could hear the faint arguing between Sookie and Pam in the other office, no doubt about relinquishing ownership of Sookie’s house. The same issue, you assumed, that Bill had requested Eric to discuss. You chuckled at the remembrance that it was your idea to buy the decrepit old farmhouse when Sookie went missing, both to keep an eye on the new King and have a safe haven for Eric away from Fangtasia.

Despite never being fully human, sleeping was one of your favorite indulgences. And tonight you were content to let Eric handle Mr. Compton’s silly requests while Pam argued with Sookie in the other room and you remained at ease. The couch in Eric’s office was worn and comfortable, and you settled yourself underneath one of his jackets, propped against the armrest. When Sookie’s annoying voice drifted away, you were left with the dull roar of protestors outside Fangtasia.

Dreams of blue seas and daylight walks with Eric plagued your mind. The warmth of the sun on your skin, and the golden dance of his hair in a Mediterranean breeze flitted by, and you relished in the fuzzy feeling it brought.

But the invigorating daylight suddenly vanished, replaced with a drab gray office and the annoying scream of a cell phone. You quickly realize it was not in fact your cell phone, but the Fangtasia office phone ringing obnoxiously on Eric’s desk. The sound of Pam and her… company through the wall gave you the idea she wasn’t getting to the phone anytime soon, so you yawned and climbed to your feet, having half a mind to let it ring till it quieted.

However, the newest anti-Vampire movement was raging, and everything at Fangtasia now was about saving face and playing nice. You picked up the receiver and tucked it in the crook of your shoulder, putting on your best vampire purr.

“Thank you so very much for calling Fangtasia. How may I be of service?”

“Y/N?”

You grimace, recognizing Sookie’s sing-song twang. “What do you want?”

“Listen, this is no time for your normal attitude-”

A snarl breaks through your lips. “Watch your mouth, brat. I’ll be on that doorstep before you draw in your next breath.”

“Y/N!” Sookie breathes heavily. “It’s Eric. I found him walking down the road on my way back.”

You stiffen. Sookie’s house was less than a mile from Compton’s, and the thought of what happened to Sophie-Ann at his mansion invaded your mind.

“What’d Compton do to him?”

“This wasn’t Bill.” Sookie’s tone was defensive in spite of everything he’d put her through. “I’m not sure who did this. Y/N… he doesn’t remember me. Or, much of anything. He keeps saying your name.”

Your slow-beating heart ticked up a notch. “You’re home?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

You call on every power you have, letting your eyes fall closed. Teleportation was more of just extremely fast flying, mostly manageable but just exhausting. Sookie’s front porch materializes in your mind, and shortly after you feel a warm Louisiana breeze on your face. The sound of screaming cicadas followed, ringing your ears to the point of a migraine.

Before you can get a hand on the doorknob, the wooden panel flew open. Six feet and five inches of blonde viking greeted you, big hands palming at your shoulders and arms as he drew you close in an instinctual embrace. Sookie’s scent caught your attention as well, but your face was buried in Eric’s bare chest, too busy reveling in his closeness to care. He hummed against your hair nonsensically, nose nuzzled into the roots.

“Älskling” Darling.

He murmured the Swedish word into your hair, pushing a soft rumble through his chest. You finally found it in you to return the embrace, rubbing what you imagined to be reassuring circles on his torso. His behavior was startling, as public affection was not his favorite. He wasn’t afraid of it, per say, but he was more brutish. Eric was possessive and pushy, grabbing onto you and nuzzling against your body to mark you with his scent before visiting vampires or their nests. Coddling and dotting outside of that was usually reserved for the bedroom and private rooms away from prying eyes.

“Eric?” You take a step back, and your heartstrings tug painfully on one another.

His blue eyes are wide, full of confusion and apprehension The air of calm and power he usually carries is missing, replaced with the naivety of a scared child. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek.

“What happened, my love?” You whisper, ushering him to sit on the porch swing.

As you walk away from the entryway, Sookie’s eyes meet yours. She nods briefly, and steps away before closing the door with a soft ‘click’. Eric reaches for you once he’s settled on the cushions. You allow him to have a hold of your hand, but maintain a bit of space and sit cross-legged facing him.

“I’ve missed you.” He murmurs, even though you saw him less than five hours ago.

The gush and fluttering of human emotions was something you haven’t felt in years. “I know. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The sea.” Eric takes your hand with both of his. “Where we met. You were so beautiful.”

His words were full of emotion and love, and you hated that your face blanched. When you met, when he could smell and taste the shore of the North Sea as it danced under sunlight, was the last few days of his humanity.

“Do you remember what happened to you tonight?” You implore him to continue, trying not to choke at the sight of his ruffled hair.

Eric’s face fell, far away from the contented glaze he had when speaking about the sea. “I know I am a vampire. You are mine. But I… I don’t-”

“Shhh, Shhh.” You hush him gently. “That’s okay.”

Eric shakes his head, gripping your wrist as if you could take his memories via osmosis. He mutters in Swedish, and you prompt him to speak up. The words he utters tell you of flashes he’d seen, but couldn’t provide any context.

“Det var hon, men det var inte hon.” It was her, then it wasn’t her.

The description is of a face morphing from older to younger, but nothing more.

What the hell had Bill Compton done to him?

Sure, Eric recalled a woman’s face, but there was nothing to say Bill didn’t set him up. You were suddenly pissed at yourself for not accompanying him to the new King’s hold. You hadn’t so much as asked why he was going. Pam was her normal stoic self upon hearing about him being beckoned, but you bet she had asked why.

“Eric?” His eyes are fixed on you, unwavering and diligent.

“Yes, my queen?”

You almost blush at the pet name. “Can you go sit inside with Sookie? I just have to call someone.”

A lopsided grin stretches his face. “Anything for you.”

Eric leans in and meshes his lips with yours, and it’s the sweetest kiss he’s ever laid on you. There’s no possessive undertone, no domineering fangs brushing against your lips. It’s an innocent show of affection, driven by absolute base instinct and a loss of personality.

“I love you.” He murmurs, breath fanning over your lips.

“I know.”

That amnesiatic smile twists his lips again, and he shuffles back into the farmhouse. You dwell for a moment on the odd behavior before withdrawing your cell phone and immediately dialing Fangtasia.

“Good evening, Fangtasia, Northern Louisiana’s most fang-tastic club. What do you want?”

On any other day, you would have laughed at Pam’s greeting. And you tried so hard to be nice.

“Pam it’s me.”

“Are you really callin’ me from the other office? I thought we talked about-”

“Something happened to Eric.” You stop her, “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

The line goes silent, and you half expect her to come rushing onto the porch as you had.

“Elaborate.”

“Sookie called me… She found him wandering down the road on the way home from Fangtasia. He doesn’t remember anything.” You force yourself to keep your voice steady.

“What do you mean, anything?”

You sigh. Nervous Pam is not good for anyone. “The last thing he recalls is the last days he was human…. When we met. He knows what he is but not who.”

Pam’s voice quakes, and you can’t tell if it’s anger or fear. “Bill set him up.”

You raise a brow. “I had an inkling. What did he go there for?”

“Some new coven of fuckin’ witches in Shreveport. Rumored to have been practicin’ necromancy.”

Your blood runs cold. “And Bill sent him in alone?”

“Probably knew it was a trap, too. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to get rid of Eric.” Her hatred of Bill is palpable, even through the shoddy phone connection. “If the AVL finds out, they might sign off on assassinating Eric.”

“Alright.” You scrub a hand down your face. “Thanks Pam. I’m gonna take care of him”

“Y/N… be careful. I don’t trust Sookie.”

Said southern belle is trying to covertly look at you through the window and you turn away.

“You know I will.” A pause. “And Pam?”

“You get all mushy with me and it’s just gonna piss me off.”

You laugh for the first time that night. “Just do me a favor and don’t worry.”

The line disconnects, and you know she’s worrying. From inside the house, Eric smiles at you, dopey face swaying ever so slightly in the window frame. You look at the sky, wishing you didn’t know there was no such thing as God.

“Fuck my life.”

-------

True Blood Masterlist | Send me an ask!

#Eric Northman x F!reader #true blood #vampire #imagine #female reader #reader x Eric Northman #true blood imagine #Eric Northman imagine #reader is some sort of mythical being #idk what #use your imagination #sookie stackhouse #bill compton #pamela swynford de beaufort

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takami-takami · 10 months

Text

A Dog Unfed.

includes— hawks x reader. angst. hurt/comfort.

warnings— animal abuse analogy. discussion of drugs and cravings. be warned and avoid this if you need. sorry for spoiling the subtext lol, but it needs a tw. though, i encourage you to apply this however you feel it apply.

perhaps we all have a dog.

Did you ever tell him?

The fullest extent of it all, the thorny vines that adorn your past— more bondage than decoration, a dragging weight against your throat and up your nasal cavity. A growth, an infestation, a plague on your subconscious.

It is a dog you unwittingly adopted— a drooling rottweiler that smacks its jaws and begs and paws at your thighs, pleading to you each night: "I'm hungry, I'm hungry, I'm hungry. Please feed me, I'm hungry."

Everyone who has ever seen your dog has mistaken you for it.

Everyone who has seen your dog has peered down their pudgy little noses, muttered "mutt", spit it and clinked their heels away; or perhaps they simply looked on in sneers of smiling horror, down past their clutching pearls.

"This is you? By god, my goodness! An animal, an animal!"

You used to hate your dog.

You used to lock it in chains outside, let its fleshy paws burn and blister against the cement in the heat of the blaring sun. You grew tired of feeding it, of crushing up its kibble, of leaving it out to dry then quenching its bottomless thirst.

Now you just sit with it.

You sit by its side with your knees to your chest, listening to the cicadas chirp their prayers. Some days, you even let your back burn against the molten floor, a grounding heat while you lie down flat; but every day, every position, your eyes always remain locked on it.

You stare as it rests on its side, fusing to the glistening cement. You listen to its keening whines and dying breaths with a familiar pity and an unbearable disgust.

You blink, unfeeling again now.

You're sure it will never die, no matter how many hours it spends dying.

You never wanted to show Keigo your dog; even though a part of you is screaming and begging to present it to him. A gift from your innards, dirty in the palms of your blistering hands.

Keigo is just like everyone else, you assume. He is kind, he is gentle, he is an angel among men and he is the exact same as everyone else.

You've come to realize a person's good qualities— openmindedness, kindness, empathy— mean nothing in the face of what one is taught. No one is immune to propaganda, and there is no shortage of that nowadays against people with dogs.

The part that makes you doubt your assumptions is this: Keigo has honey in his eyes; flicks of gold specks dusted along the amber of his irises, a sticky kind of love swimming in them that drips down to his lopsided and infuriatingly safe smile.

You could never fathom his nose upturned, as he has been on the ground too many times to do that to another; nor could you picture a sneer from a mouth as sweet as his, honeysuckle and gentle, bright yellow.

So one night, you allow it to spill, hoping for him to soak up your blue one last time.

It's not uncommon for you to spend the dim of your nights at Keigo's home— his real home, the one the commission has never barged themselves in, the one he keeps hidden from every soul in this world but one.

It is uncommon for him to listen to the water of his shower run for several hours.

If you had feathers as sharply perceptive as his, you'd detect the nervous pacing of his leather boots against the carpet of his bedroom floor, even through the sheetrock that separates the two of you. The patter of the showerhead is far too consistent for his liking, very little movement being detected at all and his mind is bouncing off countless possibilities while sticking to none.

Those worries overflow from the cup of his bleating heart, bleeding when he turns sharply toward the bathoom door, resolute.

With a barely audible thud, his forehead traps golden strands between it and the wooden door it rests against.

He doesn't ask you if you're okay. Keigo never bothers with questions he already knows the answer to.

"Baby, open the door. Please," he begs. "I promise, it's okay— just need to be with you. Please."

The song of your sobs muffled through the door causes his feathers to sting an unbearable itch.

How his heart is just as red as those wings. It begins to drip, the string connecting him to you pulled too far for him to take. It— he needs to be with you right now.

A palm slides up the plane, resting firm by his cheek. The air of his breath hits the wood, fogging back against his lips.

"Please, let me in?"

His hopes blossom in the heavy pause that follows.

"...The door's unlocked."

Keigo knows. He could have pried it open in a heartbeat with a single feather even if it was locked, but trust and respect are precious commodities. They are irreplaceable, yet entirely and easily breakable.

Slowly, the knob creaks open, the careful movement still startling your spine stiff. The heels of your feet gently propel you backwards, firmer against the icy wall at the furthermost corner of the shower. The expanse is wide enough to accomodate fierce wings, wide enough to swallow your comparitively puny body in its open jaws.

Curled in on yourself, soaked, and trembling; this is what Keigo sees when he enters the room. This is what he sees when he dashes over, mumbling words you don't quite catch— some are familiar. "Dove", "sweetheart", "oh, my baby."

Down, he kneels by your side under the pour of the synthetic rain. The fabric of his shirt clings to his skin now, hair soaked just like yours; a wet dog all the same.

And with your tears plopping down against the flat tile, scratched knees held to your chest, you allow it to spill.

It spills through the hiccups, it spills through the wet of your cheeks; and above all, it finally spills through your confession, nose upturned to look up at his shaky gaze.

"Oh, angel..."

You can hear the palpable crack of his beating heart in that voice; but even if you didn't, the rustle of scarlet feathers that puff out in protection give his wounds away.

Keigo busies himself with a racing thought: how could he not notice the signs? He knew there were secrets nestled in the cavity of your ribcage, tandrils of some sort of ivy even he couldn't quite recognize.

You have a weight. Shackles chaining you to be left out in the midday sun.

He could tell. It's not the same as his— it's another flavor, another disease, another beast of its own— but in the most abstract of ways, Keigo could see it: you're just like him.

"Why didn't you tell me," he rasps, cupping your cheeks with shaky palms. They tap and squish like they're searching for signs— distress, hurt, anything.

You smile a mimicry of his, pulled from your most precious memories, and silently beg for that wobbly smile back; but it does not come. Instead, his eyes begin to shine, glassy and wet.

You've never seen him cry before.

You've never felt as desperate for his yellow as you do now, but you have felt this pathetic and small, once. You have felt like an animal, desperate to be domesticated— a synonym for loved.

"Y-You don't need to worry! I'm good, I'm still clean, see? See?"

As if that's the only thing that matters, you tip your chin towards him to offer your pupils as proof.

Such a gesture may shatter hearts, and Keigo is but a man. Despite it all, he is but a man.

He declines the offer, your words more than enough for him— his body opts to tackle you in an embrace instead, clutching your skull close to his hammering chest.

With each wide-eyed blink, the droplets resting on your lashes flick onto his chest. The soaked strands of your hair cling to him, both bodies drenched now by the roaring downpour above.

Water cascades in heaps onto the floor below. It never stops.

With your cheek pressed against his sternum, his scent invades your senses. He smells like cedarwood cologne and thickets of the forest, a warm signature. It matches his labored breaths: sturdy and weighty and masculine.

"I thought you wouldn't see me as a person anymore," you confess.

He hushes your worries as your eyes flutter shut, kissing the crown of your head with unwavering pride.

"Dove... You're my person."

Keigo thumbs away your tears and pulls back to offer you a wobbly smile.

You offer your own in return— a real one, too, this time.

---

The greatest advice you've ever been told was "don't start".

The words felt feeble at the time, like a joke passed down through unproductive seminars in high school out the mouths of stuffy men in suits, men who spoke of the boogeyman and jumped out behind chairs.

It meant nothing at the time.

It means everything now.

It helps you explain a little better to people who've never had a dog.

The words "don't start" are a language they do not speak; and yet, it helps to say it to their mirrored face, to imagine the breadth of your world could be pressed compact into those two tidy little words.

Talking to yourself helps you pretend you're understood.

Even though it is not necessary to be understood before you can be loved:

Don't start.

#block me if ur gonna clown on the topic here. I love you people who can relate you are safe here i am kissing you i hope this reaches you #uhhhhhh this one is a little. Um. Anyway be mindful if u read 👍#🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #tw substance use #mha x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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fuedalreesespieces · 2 months

Text

inuyasha's time on the tree is honestly a subject that fascinates me. imagine you were a kid in the village where this all happened, fifty years ago. you hear rumors of the hanyo skirting around the village, but your parents tell you that miko-sama will take care of it - after all, she's taken care of every demon that's showed on the village doorstep, so this should be no different. and then she dies - the woman you thought was invincible, that everyone told you was invincible, untouchable, dies. she bleeds out surrounded by people, and you hide behind your mother's wrap skirt while you watch the pyre burn, and the smoke pour into the sky. your village's only protector is gone, and in her stead is a little girl around your age, who up until now has only held her sister's quiver. is she able to hold her sister's mantle and all that comes with it? it's a question too heavy for you to think on.

kikyo-sama's murderer - that's what they say he is - is pinned to the tree in the forest. you are forbidden from playing there anymore, but there are days where the ball rolls out of the street and into the foliage, and you chase it over the moss-covered crags until you find yourself there. and at first you're terrified to go any closer, plagued with images of the hanyo stirring to life and attacking you. but he doesn't stir. he doesn't move. he almost doesn't seem to breath, and it is only by the slow rise and fall of his chest, punctured with kikyo's arrow, that you know he must still be alive.

you can't fathom how he still lives.

you ask around. it's a touchy subject, and nobody in the village has anything good to say. the rumors are shrill and inescapable, like cicadas during summer: he charmed her, he bewitched her, he played at being her friend and betrayed her. always, he is the betrayer. you learn nothing from them and there is nothing to unearth. the right people to ask are no longer able to respond. the ones old enough to give you answers speak with restrained anger, rage tightening the skin around their lips. you visit kikyo-sama's grave, leaving flowers with the other villagers, but her empty headstone provides no answers, either.

the hanyo is silent, and the forest grows around him. you had never looked at him before, only knowing his face torn apart in anger and shock, moments before the arrow's magic overtook him. you, against all the chastisements of your parents, and all the recurring tales you've heard of youkai, find yourself at his tree without thinking. and it is his tree, just as it's his forest, because nobody dares to step foot in it. nobody except you. you linger by the generous shade of the trees, watching from a distance, expecting something. but the tree he rests against may as well be a gravestone, too.

you find yourself in the forest doing menial things, like collecting firewood, even though your mother tells you that it's best to avoid treading too far. the trees by the hanyo are too thick for someone as tiny as you to put a dent in, anyway, but you imagine it would be easy work for him - his claws peek just under the fluttering rim of his sleeves, and again you imagine him tearing himself free of his prison and stalking towards you. he doesn't. no matter how much noise you make, his eyelashes lay low, and his body hangs limp, like your sister's rag-doll.

you imagine this may be a mistake, but you continue to make the same choices. perhaps it's the lack of answers, or the childlike curiosity that tethers you back into the forest. maybe it's the fact that while you were able to gaze upon kikyo-sama from afar, you never quite knew her. you admired her as everyone else did, but just like the gods themselves, she was distant. the closest you'd ever been to her was the day of her death, when her mask of serenity broke into a thousand pieces, and she clung to her sister's arm for the first time, begging kaede to follow her instructions. a face of pain, a twin with that of the hanyo's - a thread between them, sewn together by the death itself.

somehow, this hanyo is the last remaining piece of the village's deceased priestess.

you move on with life. you grow older, and get married to someone in the village, and watch your own children get married - but the hanyo is there, just as he was decades ago, as unchanging as a statue. it's an unfair comparison, you think - any statue you've seen is cold and immobile, but the hanyo's blood pulses under his skin, like he's constantly running. though he looks peaceful, you still believe, after all these years, that he could escape at any moment.

but inuyasha doesn't escape. a girl in strange clothes frees him, and when his eyes flash open, you see life enter them again for the first time in fifty years.

#help what did this turn into #inuyasha #inuyasha a feudal fairy tale #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #I guess???? shsjjss #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha x kagome #kikyo inuyasha #inuyasha manga

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chubbypotatoepie · 6 months

Text

Lily’s War (Chapter 4)

Summary: SOE Agent Lily Darlington is unexpectedly demoted from her position and offered a life changing opportunity to become the first female Paratrooper in US history?

Pairing: TBD - The suspense is part of the fun, no?

Warnings: Mentions of violence, language

A/N: Chapter 4 finally here. Please forgive my lateness, but say welcome back to Lily, hopefully with a bang!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 4.

Camp Toccoa, 1942.

It hadn’t been an unusual day by any means, nothing particularly out of pocket had occurred. Yet, as Lily sat hunched over on the cold shower tiles watching the crimson stream of blood circle the drain, she recounted how the day had turned out so very wrong.

— -

The bunkhouse was filled with the chorus of snoring soldiers broken only by the occasional creek of an ever restless Joe Toye rolling in his cot. All were sleeping soundly, except for Private Lily Darlington who was curled into a ball at the very top of her bed. Gentlestreaks of moonlight had trickled their way through the windows, glinting off a pair of dog tags clasped between her hands partially hidden beneath the covers, her fingers glided over the raised letters as she accosted herself at her inability to control her emotions. She sucked in a silent breath and pulled the blanket over her mouth in attempt to stifle any noise as she endeavoured to catch her breath. It had been a week since she’d last slept through the night without being plagued by a nightmare. It wasn’t unusual for them to hit once a fortnight, even once a week at their worst. She was used to that, she expected that, however lately, she was lucky to go two to three days between them. She hadn’t had a full nights sleep for a week, and it was starting to show. It was causing her to lose her sturdy exterior, she had started to quip back whenever Liebgott made a joke at her expense, and she’d purposefully tripped up Guarnere on the obstacle course the previous day due to his somewhat degrading comments on her performance.

Each time was the same. Waking up, drenched in her own sweat, a searing pain emanating from her old wound accompanied by the smell of blood still lingering in her nostrils. It was part of the gig, came with the job she had been warned. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she placed her head between them, letting her fingertips graze over the scar as she sat there listening to the cicadas chirping outside the barracks. Their true meaning escaped her, she understood that she would have to be void of all human emotions if she weren’t to let past experiences stay with her, but why they haunted her was a question she had little answers to. It was a miracle that she had kept it to herself this long, how she hadn’t woken any of the men with her gasps or thrashing about. Lily thanked her lucky stars as she ran her hands through her damp hair, the groans from the springs beneath her sending a gentle reminder to maintain the peace within the quiet cabin as she gently knotted up her boots and tied her PT sweater around her waist.

As she quietly sneaked out of the bunkhouse for some desperately needed air she found herself so lost in her own head that she didn’t notice the pair of eyes on her from across the room watching with a curious intensity.

— -

“Yeah well I bet you’re regretting it now.” The irritating register of Perconte’s voice filled the latrine as he leant on the wall, half in and half out in the open door way, puffing his way through a lucky strike and scraping at a dirt stain on his shirt.

“How was I supposed to know he’d hear me.” Luz looked up at his friend with a less than amused look on his face as he sat, back to the wall, tapping the excess ash from his cigarette into the bucket by his feet.

“Ahh he’s got it out for all of us, yesterday was just your lucky turn.” Perconte answered.

“Last week was my lucky turn too, first time in my life I hope I run out of luck.” Luz said, his forearms on his knees as he took a deep breath of his cigarette.

“You should be grateful, ain’t nobody been as lucky as Redcoat here, every goddamn day Sobel sees fit to reward her.” Perconte looked towards the girl scrubbing away in the corner, rolling his eyes to her seemingly obliviousness to the two men’s conversation.

“Ain’t that right Redcoat? Hmmmmm?” Perconte clicked at the girl, trying to pull her attention from the floor. “Ears like a hawk that one” he mock whispered to Luz.

“I bet he can hear me in his sleep.” Luz replied, ignoring the short man’s half hearted attempt to irritate his punishment companion.

“I bet he can hear you smoking and not scrubbing.” Perconte taunted tipping the sud bucket with his boot.

Luz replied by flicking his half finished cigarette at the man, grabbing the brush from the wobbly bucket and began to scrub the tiled floor again, a little harder than necessary, his eyes conveying a less than amused look.

“Well I’m off to enjoy this sunny afternoon, a free pass afternoon, do whatever the hell I feel like.” Perconte taunted.

Luz reached for the nearby bucket in retaliation, “you’re gonna be doing it soaking wet if you don’t get outta here” grinning to himself as Perconte made his way back out into the glorious sunshine, leaving Luz and Lily to scrub their afternoon away in the musty latrine.

“Enjoy.” He spoke, his palms raised in defence, stepping out of the door way and cocking his head towards the girl in the corner with an eye roll.

Back in the corner, Lily knelt by the shower drain up to her elbows in suds from scrubbing the filthy floor, amazed by how the dark speckled tile was actually a light brown, hidden by a thick layer of dirt, grime, and God knows what else. She had been so graciously gifted the afternoon of latrine duty for an unknown infraction that Sobel had concocted the day prior during the afternoon obstacle course exercise after she had displeased him for the thousandth time that day, probably simply from existing. She wasn’t in the know as to Luz’s infraction, but she guessed that it was most likely due to his inability to keep his colorful thoughts to himself during the exercise, although, some of his impressions of Lieutenant ‘stick up his arse’ did make the time pass quicker. So now, they had the pleasure of each others company whilst they spent their first free afternoon in forever scrubbing the dirtiest part of the barracks as the rest of the men lamented in the summer sunshine.

Without Perconte’s commentary echoing around the building the only sounds were that of the two scrubbing brushes rhythmically sanding away at the grimy floor. The silence was palpable. Lily didn’t mind the cleaning duty as much as Sobel probably hoped she would, she much preferred it to running a couple of miles in the humid sun with a full pack, and whilst she didn’t know Private Luz all that well, he’d been sticking to his end of the latrine, and wasn’t causing her any trouble thus far, so it came as a surprise to her when he broke the silence.

“You know, if they’d mentioned in that damn Life article that being a paratrooper meant spending two sorry years of my life stuck with Sobel I might not have signed up so fast.” Luz stood up from his bent over scrubbing position, groaning as he clicked his body back into shape and wandered over to find where he’d left his water canteen, leaning back against the sinks, mulling over the absurdity of his situation. He looked over at the girl, scrubbing away at the endless grime that covered the floor, continuing to ignore him.

Lily had been part of Easy Company for some time now, that part being ignored, unwanted, forcing her to the back or just pretending she didn’t exist, the men always attempting to keep her an arms length away from the action. Luz wouldn’t have known she was still there if it weren’t for Sobel’s incessant barking at her. She didn’t speak up much in the classroom, never sat with the men at chow - never invited to sit with the men either he noted, even during the evenings before lights out she was either nowhere to be seen or already in bed turned away from whatever group conversation was taking place.

“You don’t talk much do you?.” He peered over at her hunched figure as she continued scrubbing, when she didn’t answer he cleared his throat a little louder than necessary.

“Hey Luz, how are you today? Well Redcoat, I was doing just fine until I had to come here and scrub! I love scrubbing, I’m so thankful that Lieutenant Sobel gifts it to me so often, it keeps my arms strong and my spirits high.” He chuckled to himself, tilting his head slightly in the hopes that she saw the peace offering he was attempting.

She glanced behind herself, irritated at Luz’s attempt at humour, raising a singular eyebrow as she made eye contact with the sniggering man.

“Oh thank god, it worked! You aren’t deaf! Had me worried for a minute there.” A ridiculous smile plastered across his face as he stared at Lily, waiting for an answer. She remained on the ground, one hand on her brush, one of the floor, her eyes attempting to bore a hole through his head. Her stare was beginning to make him think that they may have been better off in silence, his heart rate only slowing as he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in as she broke eye contact and slumped herself into a seated position, grabbing her canteen and taking a long, slow drink.

Lily’s body ached from being bent over too long and her hands were raw from scrubbing, she had blisters on her palms from days of climbing ropes and scaling beams, she wasn’t in the mood for jibes or jabs. Her gaze remained off in the distance until she noticed Luz still looking at her, waiting on a reply, she was too tired for this, but she was too tired to continuously ignore him for the remaining hours of scrubbing they still had left.

“I’m touched?” her voice monotonous, her face unimpressed.

The pair stared across the latrine at each other in their respective corners, an awkward silence dragging between them as neither knew what to say next. George realised that it might be the first time he’d actually properly talked to her, actually talking to her, rather than the odd nod when they came in contact during exercises. He couldn’t help but feel that part of her hesitation in talking is his own fault. By no means has he been the worst, but he hasn’t been all that forthcoming in welcoming their latest addition to the Company. He’s seen how she sits alone reading on her bunk at night, whilst the rest of the men play cards and enjoy themselves, how any conversation dies down if she merely walks past a group. A strong feeling of guilt washed over him as he racked his brain for what to say next.

“George Luz.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it towards her.

“I know who you are.” She looked towards his hand but made no move to accept the gesture.

“I know you do, and I know who you are too. Ain’t this how you do it in England? Introductions and shit?” He pushed himself off the sinks as she continued to just stare back at him, motionless.

“Christ Redcoat, shake my damn hand, I ain't got cooties.” He stood there for a moment, his mind dancing between pride and patience before taking a few steps towards the girl, sitting himself down opposite her and extending his hand again. The lump in his chest evaporated as she waited a few moments, before placing her canteen back on the ground and with a firm shake she replied.

“Lily Darlington.”

“And here I was thinking all this time that your name was Redcoat.” He mocked.

“I can see how you would think that.” She replied, her eyes rolled as she slumped her back against the cool wall.

“Sobel seems to really have it out for you.” He said, dancing on the edge of conversation.

“I’m starting to get the notion that he doesn’t quite like me.” She said in jest, it wasn’t enough to form a laugh, but she let out a huff of air.

“You ain’t wrong there.” He replied, stretching his legs out across the half scrubbed tile floor.

“Well, perhaps my day just wouldn’t shine the same if Sobel didn’t remind me how worthless I am to the Company. Keeps me eager.” She turned and winked at him as she took another sip from her canteen, the suds from her elbows dripping onto her pant leg. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to have an actual conversation with someone, she felt as if she hadn’t said anything of substance in weeks.

“You’re funny when you actually talk you know.” Chuckling when he receives a sarcastic seeming eyebrow raise and hint of a smile out of her. “I don’t know how you do it, I got six sisters and they cry if I so much as comment on anything they do, I hate the guy and he ain’t half as bad on me” Luz’s expression crinkled.

“Its manageable.” She spoke as she scraped the sudds off her arms and shook them back into the bucket.

Manageable, it was just about manageable, however it was teetering close to unbearable. She had a stern spirit, and a stiff upper lip, but not even she was unbreakable. They had so much more training to go, and then goodness knows how many years actually in the thick of it. If she couldn’t break the seal on the men’s freeze out then she had no hope of survival.

“Manageable, hmmm. Your Lieutenant hates you, your Company ain’t so keen on you either. Either you’re one determined son of a bitch, or you’re crazy.” He replied with a single eyebrow raise.

“I’m not entirely sure I want to be friends with people who spit in my food.” She replied.

“That’s Liebgott, he’s a jackass. And we don’t all hate you, we just don’t know you. You’re the only broad outta nine companies. You gotta see how weird that is.”

“I see that it’s different, I don’t necessarily see it as the disadvantage that your lot do. I don’t even think they realise to know me they’d actually have to talk to me first, their friendship hasn’t exactly been forthcoming.”

“That’s fair.” He replied, his hands raised in defence. “We ain’t exactly been forthcoming, maybe it don’t come easy talking to a broad if it ain't at a bar for my lot?” He winked at her, met by a disapproving look.

“I know you and I don’t think you’re all that bad. ” He smiled at her.

“You’ve known me, all of, two minutes?” Her sarcastic tone coming out again as she glanced down at her watch ticking away on her wrist.

“I only let the very best of people be my friends.” He said mockingly.

“You’re friends with Liebgott…” She replied looking through her eyebrows.

“I am friendly with Liebgott, there’s a difference.” He smiled back. “Two long minutes, give it six months, we’re gonna be best friends.” His face turned to her with a childish grin plastered across it.

“Is that so?” Her pitch raised as she suppressed a laugh at the mans premonition.

“I know these things, feel it in my bones.” He winked before standing up and ‘wiggling his bones’ as he made his way back over to his own bucket, laughing to himself as left.

The pair fell back into their quiet rhythmic scrubbing, broken every so often by Luz trying to make conversation, and to his surprise, Lily trying to reply in a way that showed him she wasn’t entirely disinterested by his peace making attempts. After the lack lustre interactions she was used to she didn’t want to get too optimistic over a single conversation, but she couldn’t help feeling that it might be a tiny step in the right direction.

— -

A hint of a smile crept across Lily’s face as she hung the buckets back up in the supplies closet. The pair had finally finished their punishment and Luz had rushed off to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with the men, something about Bull Randleman owning him a pack of smokes from their poker game the previous night. Lily had offered to finish up the job, and afterwards planned to find a quiet corner and watch the world go by, she had been looking forward to doing nothing for so long and her body was begging for a break.

With her smile still lingering and her heart a little lighter she made her way along the barracks towards the quieter end of the camp, turning the corner without noticing the large figure coming straight towards her until it was too late, smacking head on, and sending both parties stumbling back, the ground littered with papers that Lily could only assume the other party had been rushing somewhere.

“I’m so sorry!” Lily exclaimed, gathering up all the lose sheets around her before looking up to see exactly who she had run into. Her heart dropped in her chest when her eyes raised to meet those of Lewis Nixon’s, Lieutenant Lewis Nixon’s, “Sir.” She tried to add quickly, however in her shocked state, it came out more like a whisper, much to her embarrassment.

His eyes lowered for a split second before he also reached for the loose sheets, shoving them haphazardly into the file tightly grasped in his hands, almost in an attempt to by himself some time to think of something logical to say. Before it could conjure anything Lily’s hand thrust out towards him as she offered his remaining papers, his eyes met hers once again, and he drew in a sharp breath as he took them from her grasp. They both stood there awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak first.

It hadn’t really sunk in for him yet. He still didn’t truly believe she was here. That it was actually her. Yes he’d sat through the meeting with her and Winters, however, most of it was a blur to him, he was certain he was being pranked and any moment now his sister Blanche would pop out from behind a tree, grab Lily and run off giggling. He felt as if he had been shot upon seeing her unannounced all these years later. She had been here for weeks now, yet he found himself avoiding her, filling every available hour with extra tasks just to minimise the amount of time in which he’d actually have to face her. He just couldn’t understand what the hell she was doing here - the Lily he knew would not be here.

Lily could feel a flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, she had been wanting to speak to Lewis privately ever since she arrived, yet could never seem to find an appropriate moment, now she had one she couldn’t even seem to form a single word out of her mouth, it didn’t help that he was staring at her in an unnerving manner. Before either of them could say anything Lieutenant Winters called out for him. His eyes rose to the source of the voice across the far side of the opposite field before dropping back to meet hers with a regretful expression.

“I have to go.” Was all he could bring himself to say before pushing past her small frame and dashing off to the very meeting he had just made himself late for, grimacing at the way he had just handled the situation, knowing full well he was just making everything more complicated for his future self and somewhat guilty for not even saying hello to the girl he was once so very close to.

— -

If persistence was a person it would be George Bloody Luz. It was evident that he been steadfast in his intentions in becoming best friends, but to be fair, Lily hadn’t been stopping him. She was right about the step, which had actually turned out to be more of a leap, George Luz didn’t seem to do anything halfheartedly. She had begun to enjoy having a someone to shoot the shit with as they scaled Currahee, someone to compare notes with after a classroom exercise, to stand in line with at the mess hall as they awaited that evenings sloppy serving of grub. Luz had even been trying to get her to sit alongside the men at meals, to which she complied, but somehow always found herself perched half on half off the bench, too far away to be able to be involved in any discussion. One step forward, one step back. Lately they’d even found themselves sat out the back of the Barracks late in the evenings before curfew, sharing a laugh, going over the best and the worst parts of that day, occasionally joined by Floyd Talbert or another one of Luz’s friends, which only seemed to make her situation feel even more isolating, ironic really. Lily craved the dynamic that George had with the rest of the chaps, the camaraderie and the comfort it seemed to bring him at the end of a long day when he could truly be himself. It was a harsh reality, not one that she was expecting either, that to let herself be open to any form of friendship, she had to be able put her guard down, not to mention swallowing her pride.

In a surprise turn of events, the men seemed to take the lead from Luz, she was far from getting into conversation with anyone new, however when she sat next to Luz at chow the previous evening, she received head nods from some of the others at the bench, and Randalman had even saved her a seat. It was an improvement, a very small improvement, but one she so desperately needed.

— -

"You know Nix, I think if you stare any harder you might just fall through that window.” Winters noted from beneath his stack of papers.

“I am not staring, I am observing.” He replied, eyes fixated on the field before him.

“That her?” Spiers motioned to the short figure at the back of the group.

“Sure is” Winters replied, placing his papers down and joining the men congregated around the window.

The trio stood side by side behind the window, watching the line of Privates as they stood in formation, being barked at by their beloved Lieutenant Sobel. Nixon’s eyes fixed on the form of Private Lily Darlington at the end of the line, a full head and shoulders below her fellow men, the longer he stared the less he began to recognise the girl he once new.

— -

“Easy Company, each of you will select a strip of paper! On that paper will be a name, that name will be your partner for the rest of the day, there will be no trading partners, no exceptions!” Sobel’s voice cried as he thrust the helmet forcefully into Lily’s hands.

She groaned as she grabbed a strip from the pile, she had gotten away with mostly pairing Luz for the week. Sparing wasn’t anything new to her, in all actuality she excelled at it, but there in lay her problem. Her position within the Company already ruffled feathers and had the men asking all sorts of questions that she had little interest or ability to answer. If she had gone from quiet girl at the back of the group, to launching grown men over her shoulder within a day she doubted that she’d be able to escape without explaining herself. Luz was her scapegoat, not that he knew it. She had let him lead the training, she tried to spar with her non dominate hand to lessen the blows, heck he’d even commended her on her improvements the day before. As she passed the helmet towards George she said a silent prayer that the name on her slip was an easy opponent, whilst she knew she was going to have to suppress herself, she wasn’t exactly hoping to have to take a punch from the likes of Bull or even Guarnere, she was hoping to remain under the radar, not in the medical bay.

“Who’d you get?” George whispered across to her, passing the helmet to its next victim.

Lily felt her prayer fall from the sky and slap her as she opened the strip of paper between her fingers. Inked across in a barely legible scrawl was the one name she’d have paid good money to not see.

Liebgott.

She tilted the paper towards him and rolled her eyes as an amused grin swept across his face.

“Weren’t you saying yesterday how much he deserves a ‘kick up the arse’” Luz replied, mocking her accent rather crassly, his eyebrows wiggling in jest.

With a look of distain she nodded towards his paper, the corners of her mouth turning up as she read ‘Randalman’, looks like Luz will have a tussle of his own.

“Find your partner and pair up!” Sobel yelled from the other side of the field.

“Have fun!” Luz mocked as Lily dragged herself towards the other end of the field to find her unlucky partner. She was barely 10 steps towards where he was stood before she could feel his eyes beginning to glare a hole through her.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, boys, this is gonna be fun.” He spat, looking her up and down before shoulder passing her and strutting away from the group of men towards his spot on the field.

“Listen up Easy Company! The man on the far side of the field will make the starting move, last man standing wins!” Lieutenant Sobel’s whistle rang through the air as Lily centred her weight and dug deep deep down within herself to find an ounce of self control to not smash his face in. Defence, defence, Now wasn’t the time to be putting anyone in the medical bay.

“Afraid of messing up your hair sweetheart?” His childish voice rang in her ears as he stood on the far side of the field rolling his sleeves up.

“You’d have to make contact with me to be able to do that, Liebgott.” She smiled back at him with a shit eating grin, spitting his name as if it were a slur.

“Yeah?” He said, slowly squaring up towards her. He was a good head and shoulders taller than her, and he was using every ounce of his stature to try to intimidate her. It was pretty easy to pinpoint exactly how Liebgott managed to get under her skin so easily, he was impulsive, rude, he knew how to push all her buttons, but mostly it was that he seemed to wake up every day with the innate desire to do anything, say anything to tick her off. It was killing her to find an ounce of strength not to retaliate. She had learnt the hard way that it mostly makes situations worse.

The duo stood steadfast, each not willing to back down from their ridiculous stare off, completely oblivious to the approaching footsteps of the Lieutenant Winters as he made his way over towards them.

“Do we have a problem here?” His deep voice broke their trance, his eyes shifting between the pair.

Liebgott’s head swung from between the Winters and the girl, “Afraid of getting her hands dirty I’d say, Sir.”

Winters let out a huff of aggravation, “Private Darlington, do you have a problem sparring with Private Liebgott?” His face displayed a look of curiosity as he peered down at the girl. “From what I’ve seen I’d say quite the opposite. Perhaps you can teach Private Liebgott here a thing or two.” He said with a wink.

“Yes Sir” Lily happily replied, a hint of a smile edging on her lips, I’d happy slap the shit out of him, Sir.

Lieutenant Winters smiled as he backed away, he couldn’t help but admit that he did hold a slight interest in watching her take down the loudmouthed Liebgott. He’d been an onlooker a few of their interactions, and whilst he wouldn’t feel inclined to step in between them; he knew that they needed to learn how to live amongst each other, and sometimes that required an ego takedown, he was comforted in the knowledge that his meddling would only produce what Liebgott had been fuelling with his behaviour.

Lily didn’t know the last time she had free rein to pummel someone, and she adored it. A rush of adrenaline overcame her as she waited, her weight spread, knees slightly bent. Joseph Liebgott you are so bloody predictable. During the drills prior shed had time to observe almost every man, assessing their strengths and taking note of their weaknesses. Liebgott was a classic, he favoured his left leg for balance, he always threw his first punch with his right arm. He was always telling the other men about fights he had gotten into back home, he was experienced, but impulsive. His aim was always to throw as many punches as he could before his opponent got a look in. Always so quick to attack that he never assessed the situation, his anger and his ‘better than thou’ attitude clouded his judgment.

Lily dug her foot further into the dirt for leverage as she looked across at her partner, taunting her with a confident smirk and accompanying wink. Her eyes didn’t move from his as she waited for him to make the first move, she remained still, waiting on each footstep as he moved closer towards her.

She barely had a second to breathe before Liebgott launched himself at her, throwing a punch that narrowly missed her eye. She ducked to dodge its trajectory, having to stop herself from sinking her fist into his crown jewels as she came back up, although she’d be lying if watching Liebgott rolling around on the ground like a worm cradling his crotch wouldn’t amuse her.

Her weeks of silence in the evenings had been beneficial, it seemed Liebgott’s favourite pastime to recount the street brawl fights he’d gotten himself wrapped up in back home in California. She needed to prepare for a dirty fight. He retreated for a short moment before he lunged at her again, his movements brash and wild, he aimed for her blind spots, however, Lily anticipated it this time, and blocked and you countered, clipping his ankle as he came past, his impulsiveness made for a simple fight, however she kept her fists tight to her body, defence Lily, she reminded herself, scraping every ounce of self control she had left.

Winter’s attention was pulled from the scene as Nixon and Spiers made they way over the field to where he stood.

“Battle to the death?.” Spiers said as he looked out onto the scene before them.

Nixon stood between them, his arms tightly folded watching the ebb and flow of the drill intensify, his brow knitted tightly. “She’s reading him like a book.” He said, with more concern than he intended.

Thwack!

She blocked his expected right hook, and countered with an elbow to his face, it wasn’t hard enough to break anything, but just about enough to knock his balance off. Swinging around she met his eyes as he recoiled back, his dark eyes glared at her, a mixture of shock and fury. This time Lily moved without hesitation, rushing forward she ducked down and grabbed Liebgott below the waist, using her entire body weight to throw him to the ground, the loud thunk of his head colliding with the mud drew inquisitive eyes from them other sparring pairs. A quiet murmur started to form amongst the onlookers who didn’t know wether to stop or watch what was going on. The force of the impact sent ringing through Liebgott’s ears, his eyes felt heavy in his head as if he was being pulled into the earth itself.

A quiet suppressed chuckle escaped from Spiers as Sobel shoved past the onlookers him yanked Liebgott back to his feet by his shirt collar. “Easy Company is better than this Private, are you going to let a girl beat you?!” He bellowed into Liebgott’s ringing ears as he shoved him back into the fight.

Liebgott stood for a few seconds catching his breath, before swinging his arm again and unleashing a series of rapid strikes. Lily moved and countered, her blocks almost poetic in their efficiency.

Sobel’s voice called out once more, “Private Liebgott this isn’t a street fight, you are to take down your opponent!” His cowl voice broke Lily’s concentration, and in the split second she had stopped to turn her attention towards Sobel Joe had moved to throw a wild punch. Lily failed to block him as his fist collided with the side of her face. He was overjoyed, a slinky grin crept onto his face as his eyes scanned the red mark quickly rising across her left cheek.

A few men down, Luz and Randleman had paused mid takedown as they saw Liebgott’s fist meet Lily’s face, they anxiously watched, unaware how they each still had their fists curled into each others uniform.

Lily swallowed hard as she re-entered herself, she was prepared for a few bruises, she had settled on a few bruises, a few stumbles and she’d fall, faking defeat. She’d be able to sit the rest out and no one would remotely pay any attention to her, she had had her fun with him. That was until Liebgott decided to open his mouth and drain every inch of her self control.

“Gonna cry Red? I’ve seen you cry in your sleep, ain’t gonna be nothing new, you just can’t hack it.” He scoffed in her direction as she wiped a loose tendril of sweat covered hair out of her eyes.

His words seared into her skin and a switch flipped inside of her. She let him move first, her eyes shooting daggers into his. She watched as he moved slowly towards her, before shifting his weight and throwing a punch that she dogged with ease, he was playing into her hands. Then, with a sudden sprint Lily moved towards Liebgott.

Crunch!

With a sudden jab to the face Liebgott stumbled backwards, his nose bloodied and his fists tightened. He moved to wipe the blood away, however Lily didn’t give him a moment’s rest.

“What in the Sam Hell…” Escaped from Randleman’s mouth as he stood, still connected to Luz, his breath caught in his throat as he watched the tiny girl, his eyes wide with shock.

With Liebgott’s hands up to his face, he left himself open, and Lily rushed forwards again. She explored his opening and with a shark kick has landed a blow to his ribs, a jarring move that stole the air from his lungs. Liebgott doubled over as the onlookers winced, barely sparring themselves anymore, too interested in the action.

“She’s got bite, I’ll give her that.” Spiers spoke

“You can thank the SOE for that.” Nixon replied, his eyes completely fixated on the girl.

Liebgott, with more fury in his eyes than before attempted a desperate counter attack, Lily, however, moved in with ruthlessness, blocking each strike, and retaliating with a relentless barrage. Her fist collided with the Californian’s nose for the second time, forcing Liebgott to stagger backward as he let out a gasp of pain. As the confrontation reached its climax, Lily delivered a final, devastating series of blows, landing a final kick to his abdomen, followed by an elbow to the face in order to distract him, seizing the opportunity she grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her shoulder. The onlookers shuddered as a sickening crunch sounded when Liebgott hit the ground, his shoulder dislocating the impact. Lily stood over him, her hands on her thighs as she panted, catching her breath as he lay there, defeated, bloody, and breathless.

“Jesus Christ” Nixon breathed out as stood with the other Officers, their faces a mixture of curiosity and shock. He was finding it difficult to put into words what he had just seen, who was this Lily?

Tag list:

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild @icantdecideofthename @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @weird-obsessed-girl

Next part sooooo much sooner than you think!

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danosrosegarden · 9 months

Note

needy cuddly edward after sex i beg of u 🙏

easy, easy - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: mild mentions of smut (nothing explicit), a dash of angst (mild mentions of past trauma), and descriptions of aftercare.}

☽ What a fascinating specimen Edward was to watch when you had sex. You looked into his glossy, pleading eyes with an ardent interest. The way his jaw would fall slack and his cheeks would burn with a fervent fuchsia dust...it was addicting, to see him entranced in such deep-seated pleasure. It unhinged its jaw and swallowed him whole, and to watch his eyes squeeze shut and his hands grip the bedsheets in authentic bliss was an honor. He was so pure like this, so sweet and fragile.

☽ He would've taken anything you'd throw at him in those moments. What he couldn't handle was being left alone after the fact. And you would never. Taking care of him was far too much fun. His skin pressed against yours was too soft, too warm, too comforting to leave cold and desolate.

☽ He would cling to you; he would wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close before you even had the chance to wet a towel and wipe yourself down. The pads of his fingers pressed into your skin like they were making a statement: they're mine, mine alone.

☽ He doesn't care what happens, as long as you stay close to him. Usually, it was just something quiet and simple like some casual pillow talk, or maybe a shower together.

☽ It goes without saying, but he's only ever felt the bite of frosty isolation in his bones all throughout his life. Its only ever been tight rounds of seclusion and darkness cutting off his circulation, only a black plague gnawing at his heart, clouding his eyes and forcing him to see the worst of people. He wasn't really aware good was something a person could be. Especially not himself. So...he's not really sure what to do when you run your hands through his ruffled hair and coo at him. "So good, Eddie, you were so good for me." He wants to smile. He wants to sob. He wants to be wrapped in your warmth forever. What did he do to deserve something so pure and whole, someone so sweet and gentle?

☽ It doesn't feel like a chore. It doesn't feel like a mundane task that has to be completed each time after sex. It feels like joy, like warmth, like...love? Is this what love is? Love is a bit overwhelming to think about. The word feels like a whirling windstorm to you, something that comes with hurricanes and shattered glass and you're hesitant to call anything love. But this? One hand brushing over the curve of Edward's hip, the other rubbing circles into his scalp? The heat of your bodies mixing together into one sparkling bubble of comfort? This could be it.

☽ Just breathe. You can worry about the popping fire crackling in your heart later. For now, you can breathe easy in the sheets next to him. And you truly do feel as though around him, you can just...exhale. Let go for now.

☽ You're here, he's here. The sky outside your window glitters with stars and a fat scoop of moon. Cicadas are buzzing in the glowing night, and Edward takes one of your hands to lace with his own. You have each other. That's all that truly matters.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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silkjade · 2 years

Text

basorexia (n.) the overwhelming desire to kiss

Featuring— thoma x noble! reader, mentions of ayato ⤀ warnings: fem!reader, alcohol use, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, drunken confessions, mentions of kissing ⤀ summary: under the waxing light of the moon, you reveal the secrets that plague your heart | w.c. 2.8k+

The sound of cicadas fill the air as they sing praises to the full moon while a soft breeze cuts through the humid air of another inazuman summer. The fires illuminating the lanterns of the kamisato residence dance in their hearths, flickering in and out of sight, threatening to vanish completely— something you dearly wished you could do as well right now. But alas, duty called.

The moon hung high in the sky, signaling it was at least midnight. The amount of times your mother has sent you, lacquer box in hand, in the attempts to woo a certain commissioner was humiliating. Even more so was the amount of times he had stood you up, left you to wait alone until the late hours of the night. You watch as the last light of the lanterns fade into the darkness, leaving you alone with only the moon as your companion.

“The yashiro commissioner values loyalty above all,” your mother scolds, “you will wait all night if it's a means to show the devotion in your heart.”

It was a miserable affair, really. For as long as the yashiro commission has existed, your clan has served as its loyal compatriots; they have and will thus continue to be an important ally for generations to come. As such, it was inevitable that your two clans should one day join. What a shame your elder sisters were already married off by the time young ayato came of age. You should have been honored that this responsibility fell to you because to be the future lady of the esteemed kamisato clan was a feat many noble girls could only ever dream of, but to you, it was nothing more than a burden of your family name. Ayato was never interested in marriage, much less an arranged marriage, so to be continuously strung along by the promise of an advantageous union and title was tiresome to say the least. Nevertheless your family persisted. Still intent on sending you to visit the kamisato estate (much too often in your opinion) as a show of devotion and fortitude, to your (somewhat?) betrothed; to them it wasn’t a matter of if you were to be wed, it was a matter of when.

A friendly voice sounds over the cacophony of singing insects, interrupting your thoughts. Its cheery disposition was a nice contrast against the solemnity of the night.

“Rest assured, I'm the only one here.”

You immediately knew who it was. It was easy to tell by the familiar, rhythmic beat of his footsteps on the veranda. The floorboards creak at the added weight of a man settling in place beside you, and you breathe a sigh of relief, sparing your surroundings one last glance before fully relaxing your body. Your relationship with the kamisato housekeeper was…a development. The first time you met thoma, you were told he had washed up on the shores of a foreign land with nothing but the clothes on his back. You found him to be quite the eyesore. Even more annoying was the fact that your dear friend ayaka started spending what little free time she had to dote on him. And as her good friend, you tolerated her new attendant when he’d accompany the two of you through town. You supposed he wasn’t that bad. Because despite your initial apathy towards the foreigner, thoma’s amiable character had grown on you like summer grass. Even to the point that, what were originally lonesome hours waiting on the absent commissioner were instead spent with his loyal retainer who kept you company. Thoma was sociable and comfortable to be around; enough so that as your familiarity grew, neither of you felt the need to keep up formalities. Other than the rigid rules of inazuman etiquette, there was no point. Besides, it wasn’t like you were his lady. At least not yet. Perhaps one day you might actually marry into the kamisato clan, but for now, thoma was a valued friend and confidant.

“I brought you a little something in case you were hungry,” he smiles. He sets down a plate of dango and continues, “I made a batch as a ‘thank you’ to miss ogura for the huge discount on fabrics earlier today and...there were some extras!”

You feign a pout. “Oh? Am I just an afterthought to you as well now?” Thoma’s eyes widened. Flustered, he stammers out,

“N-no of course not! If you’d like, I could whip something up for you right now! Anything y/n. Anything you’d like.” He’d hate himself if he ever gave you the notion that you were just an afterthought to him. Not when you’re always at the forefront of his mind. A brief chuckle escapes your lips to let him know you were only joking. Well, half joking, but you found it adorable the way he had jumped to defense. Still, you were touched by the way he volunteered to cater to your hypothetical needs, though he probably would have offered the same to anyone; he was a well known fixer after all. It didn’t make your heart flutter any less though.

You sit together in silence, taking in the tranquility of the night. The blades of wild grass dance in the wind, hypnotic.

“How long have you been out here?” he asks.

“Since nightfall,” you hum. Again, silence. This wasn’t like the same, comfortable silence the two of you were used to sharing, but something heavier that hung thick in the air. Your answer bothered him. He didn’t understand how you could reply so nonchalantly after waiting hours for someone who most likely wouldn’t show. Furthermore, the thought that you might have become so accustomed to this tore him apart. Tore him apart to think that in spite of all the admiration and respect he had for his lord, he still couldn’t escape the fleeting thought that you deserved more, deserved better and that perhaps he could…

He subconsciously clasped your hand between the two of his. “I could talk to him for you. My lord...I’m sure he’d at least—” He stops, startled by the speed at which you whipped your head around to meet his gaze.

Green eyes bore into yours, surprisingly intense. Oh. He was being serious. You searched further into his eyes, catching a glimpse of worry? frustration? pity? Why was he always so adamant in his offers to talk to ayato for you? Regardless of their difference in station, the two men were close, and you were aware that ayato respected thoma enough to value and consider his opinion. Of course, you rejected this offer every time, though not realizing that perhaps he was tired of being ordered to keep you company. Had he just been humoring you all this time? Everyone knew thoma was one to honor loyalty till the end so you wouldn’t put it past him to do so for his lord. For just a second, the corner of your mouth twitches downward at the thought but thoma has a keen eye, especially when it comes to you. He releases your hand from his grasp, thinking that maybe it was too forward of him. Too bold of him to just suddenly grab your hand. Because no matter how comfortable he felt around you, you were still a noblewoman after all. A noblewoman from a different clan. A noblewoman meant to marry his lord.

“Let’s…not talk about this anymore,” you say, all the while averting your eyes and turning to reach for the sake set next to you. Thoma lets out a frustrated huff, and from the corner of your eye, you see him run a hand through his golden locks. It was rare to see him this vexed. You pour yourself a cup of, now lukewarm, sake and tip your head back. The mild burn of downing the drink all at once is a welcome distraction. To give credit where credit is due, your mother’s initial plan was quite nice. Sharing chilled sake together on a summer night, under the light of the stars. Engaging in riveting conversation and sharing secrets with only the moon as your witness. And to think you were eagerly hoping for the housekeeper’s arrival more so than the commissioner’s. How foolish of you.

“You know thoma, it’s quite rude to let a lady drink by herself,” you state matter of factly. Not that it was necessarily true, but you were hoping it’d ease any lingering tension leftover from your previous conversation. You slide an empty cup across the gap between you and watch as he gingerly pours his own fill, though not before refilling your cup.

“Just a little okay?”

Ah right. Despite hailing from the nation of wine itself, thoma the mondstadter was quite the light drinker. How ironic. But in good faith, he nods and raises his cup in a silent toast before downing its contents as well.

“So…tell me about mondstadt again.”

After your seventh? eighth? cup of sake tonight, you’re hardly registering what your companion is saying. Something about a wind..broom(?) festival..?

“...and the hunters in springvale even catch foxes and then release them with flower wreaths on their heads! How adorable is that! I wonder if the kitsune around narukami shrine would…” he rambles on but your world is just short of spinning and his voice is tuning in and out of your head. Maybe if you concentrated harder. You furrow your brows and lock your eyes onto the mondstadter, using him as your focal point.

The man was lying on his back, flat against the wooden floorboards of the veranda, his long legs hanging over the edge, heels digging into the soft earth. He had an arm folded behind his head, unaware of the fact that your eyes were carefully tracing the lines of his other arm, from his shoulder, past his exposed forearm, all the way down to his fingers absentmindedly toying with the tassel adorning his hip. You wonder how it would feel to have those same fingers running through your hair. Blame it on your narrowed field of vision, but your eyes drift to his torso; his body was relaxed but you could still make out the vague outline of his muscles underneath the thin black shirt. Your emotions were running high tonight; it left your head and your heart a wild, tangled mess. So much so that you couldn’t even discern whether what you were feeling was real or just a product of the alcohol in your system.

“...I’d love to take you once the sakoku decree is lifted. Um…of course with my lord and lady as well!” he laughs nervously. “Oh! And you’ve got to try good hunter’s sticky honey roast for yourself!” When you don’t reply, he thinks you might have passed out. You’ve been silent for a while and have had quite a bit to drink. Worried, he sits up.

It was something about tonight. Something in the air, the atmosphere. Something about the way he’s leaning on his elbows, worry etched across his handsome face. Perhaps it really was all due to liquid confidence but in a random burst of adrenaline, inhibitions gone, rationality thrown to the wind, as if moving only by instinct, you shift your body, closing the distance between you and him.

As if on reflex, he moves his hands onto your waist. To hold you steady, he justifies. But you’re leaning so close, your arms on either side of him, face hovering only inches from his. Thoma feels his face grow hot at the proximity. As if the usual, gentle warmth of his vision had decided to resonate with the yearning he hid his heart. His eyes shift hesitantly before deciding to settle on your lips, for if he looked into your eyes, he knew he’d drown in their depths.

You smile internally to yourself. The way thoma’s staring, you can already feel the heat on your lips without ever even initiating contact with his.

“Kiss me,” you whisper. His breath hitches, uneven. He forces himself to tear his eyes away from your lips, trailing upwards towards your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, no doubt from the sake— you had drunk a good three quarters of the carafe yourself. Your brows just slightly furrowed, as if you were focusing on keeping your already half-lidded eyes open. Just one of the many blaring reminders that you were under the influence of alcohol. He swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.

“You’re not sober.” His voice came out hoarse, almost gravelly. Archons, it was taking all his willpower not to kiss you. To satisfy your very whim. To pull you down into his gravity, your body on his, his lips on yours. To satisfy his every whim. But he is ever the gentleman. If he were a worse person, he would have fulfilled your request without a second thought, regardless of who you thought he was. Because in your inebriated mind, you must have imagined him to be ayato: his lord, your intended, the man you must be so in love with to tolerate all those hours of seemingly endless waiting just to be disappointingly met with… the housekeeper. Plus, the mere thought of the scandal it would bring to the very clan he swore to serve…no he couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t betray his dear friends like that no matter how much his heart anguished.

“Sober enough to—”

“No,” interrupted Thoma. His breathy whisper held an air of authority you weren’t used to hearing from him. “I don’t think…” he pauses. Voice softer, more desperate, as his eyes dart down again, glancing once again at your lips before returning to meet your eyes. “I don’t think I’d be able to take it if you were to wake up tomorrow and hate me. I can’t betray the trust of a friend.”

You withdraw a little, frowning, because his words did not match his actions. His breaths are just as shallow and uneven as yours. Not to mention the hunger in his green eyes that he was so desperate to hide or the way you could definitely feel his grip tightening on your waist, so much so that his warmth was seeping into you. And oh how nice it felt! Safe, comfortable, familiar. You attempt to blink away the sleep from your eyelids, but they were just so heavy. Whatever you wanted to tell him, you had to do it quickly.

Which was how thoma had you once again in a position too close. Too close to be considered appropriate for an unmarried noblewoman and an attendant from another clan. Too close to be considered appropriate for two friends. Your face hovered next to his ear. Your voice was laced with sleep, but nonetheless it was your voice still.

“Thoma I…,” you slur, voice barely above a whisper. His heart beat heavily in anticipation, but he never got to hear the rest of your sentence. Instead, he felt the heavy tap of your forehead hitting the crook of his neck followed by the soft sounds of your slumbered breathing. The housekeeper stayed still, not yet daring, nor wanting, to move a muscle. If he were to be honest to his deepest desires, he’d like to stay in this position a bit longer. Only in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined the two of you like this, your bodies so close, so intimate. But alas, dreams should remain in his mind where they belonged. He should get a move on; it was a terribly compromising position.

Thoma readjusts both his and your position, careful as to not move too fast lest he wake you from your slumber, although he doubted anything would wake you right now, considering how incredibly drunk you were. He lets out a melancholy chuckle, recounting the thought of you wanting to kiss him. Yes, this would stay in the back of his mind, haunting him, for a long time. He stands, pushing himself off the veranda, with you cradled in his arms and your head resting on his chest. A light blush once again crawls back onto his cheeks as he glances at your sleeping form and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth.

You’re awoken by the soft streams of sunlight shining through the screen of an unfamiliar room. No, not unfamiliar. It wasn’t your room back home at the family estate, but you recognized it as a guest room of the kamisato residence. The repeated emblems of their family crest decorated here and there across the room were a dead giveaway as well. You scan the room, a little nervous as to what you might find since you don’t remember how you ended up here at all. Honestly you hardly remember anything past your brief conversation with thoma since he first joined you on the veranda, but you must have drank quite a bit if your pounding headache was any indication. To your right, is water and a note, but you smile upon seeing the familiar handwriting.

‘Make sure you drink lots of water!’

a/n: wow I have not attempted to write fanfic since I was like 13 lmao. Anyways possibly a Part 1?

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #thoma angst #thoma fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabbles #genshin hcs #genshin angst #genshin fic #genshin scenarios

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