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aryxchse · 2 months

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the hot lifeguard. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : no one's requesting for my husband so i simp for him on my own (and with my girl annabeth chase ofc)

warnings ; cursing, you being a simp (totally not inspired from me), him being a simp, maybe nsfw mentions idk just horny teens, hot percy jackson, my baby annabeth because she's too cute for you to handle, ALSO LONG ASS FIC WTF, well you know me, i'm a sucker for daughter of hera trope

having a crush on percy jackson was normal in the campers.

he was hot, powerful, funny, sarcastic, kind, loyal, and believe me, the list goes on.

so when he started working as a lifeguard in the camp, suddenly everyone was in the water. he, the little shit he is, surfed once in a while too, to give a little show to the girls and boys. he was the aphrodite cabin's precious, which piper was disgusted. but he was proud.

today was another day for the camp to be at lake, swimming. annabeth dragged you out from the peaceful hera cabin, saying that you should at least get in the water to survive this hot weather. even though you wanted to stay inside, she was right, like always. the weather was hot and you started to get embarresed from the amount of times you asked jason to create a wind for you.

now you were going to use percy's element to cool down, which is, your secret crush.

"having a crush on percy isn't bad as you think." annabeth said quietly, carrying her and your beach bags. you, who was carrying the snacks and your surfboard, sighed. "oh yeah? i'm literally in a fucking cult annabeth. the 'i-have-a-crush-on-percy-too' cult. and believe me, there's so many of us."

annabeth laughed at you and found a good spot while you were rambling. she put the bags down on the sand and pulled out a blue picnic blanket to claim the area.

"i know the cult, i was a member of it when i was like, 12." she joked, now putting the bags on top of the blanket to keep it in place. "then i left, realising i wasn't really in the cult."

you smirked at her as you took off your big camp shirt, laying on the blanket with your matched blue bikini. "see? you should know what i feel."

annabeth shrugged, taking off her own camp shirt, leaving herself with her yellow swimsuit. "not really." she said. "besides, there's no one like you in the cult. you're quite famous yourself."

you raised an eyebrow at her, taking a lemonade from the little fridge standed beside you. "how so, blondie?" you asked, taking a sip.

"well, you're the only daughter of the famous hera, and literally the definition of good. everyone knows and loves you, you're always helping people. the little kids call you mom sometimes for gods' sake." she explained, and you chuckled.

"what's that have to do with percy?" you asked as you grabbed a diet coke from the fridge. annabeth groaned, taking the diet coke from your hand. "what i'm trying to say is, you probably have his attention already. you're as famous as him and you're literally gorgeous."

you 'awww'ed at annabeth which she gagged playfully. you left a kiss to her cheek. "thanks annie, but i'm only successful at being little boys first love. not getting the famous percy jackson's attention."

annabeth groaned louder, laying on her back. "man, people talk about the skinny white boy like he's some god." she said. "when he was twelve, he was basically a loser."

you laughed at her and stood up, taking your surfboard. "how nice of you to talk about him like that." you joked, and annabeth made thumbs up to you. "anyways babe, i'll surf a little. there's a lotta good waves goin' on right now."

annabeth looked at the ocean and sighed. "you sure? it looks dangerous today." she said, and you only giggled at her worries. "oh please, you know i'm good at surfing as much as percy."

"yeah, sure. don't let piper hear that'." annabeth yelled after you as you walked away. you waved at her without turning back.

you looked around a bit. the apollo kids was blasting music in the food corner, which was now full of demigods. dionysus kids was making cocktails without the alcohol, because their dad's were watching them. chiron was just chilling next to mr d, a sunglass on his face, and the aphrodite kids was playing beach volleyball with the demeter kids.

then you looked at the right. oh, there he was.

percy jackson, sitted on the guard chair -you really didn't know what it's called- with that tan and muscular body of his. he had a sunglass on his face and an ice cream stick in his mouth. he lazily swinged his feet once in a while, and the blue shorts of his were looking so damn good on him. the red whistle hanged around on his bare chest, not that he touched it often.

you stopped staring when a girl accidently bumped you, apologising right after it. you smiled and said it was nothing, internally thanking the girl for making you turn back to life again. you were damn sure annabeth was making fun of you.

little thing you didn't know that percy, was observing you in that blue bikini, behind his sunglasses. what do you think was the reason of him wearing them? to be cool? nah, he doesn't even need those to be cool. he's just watching you secretly. you, didn't had any idea you were making an eye contact with him until that girl bumped to you.

he watched you dive in the water like you were poseidon's champion or something, getting on that white surfboard of yours like a damn model. percy felt like he was drooling at the sight, which he probably was.

he was snapped out of his gaze with mr d yelling at him. man, you were just about to bend over and stand up on that board.

"yes, mr d?" he said lazily, rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses.

"this little shit needs to find the bathroom, go show him." mr d pointed some little boy who was holding his shorts like his life depended on it. percy jumped down from his seat like it wasn't 2 feet tall, and smiled at the boy.

"don't mind him, he's an old man who's angry he can't drink." he said to the boy, ruffling his hair. the boy only nodded. "i don't really care anyway, i just need to pee."

percy chuckled as he picked the little boy in his arms, already taking him to the bathroom. "i'll carry you little fella. just be careful not to pee on me."

"i won't, thank you percy." the little boy said. percy wasn't suprised that he knew his name. "no problem. what's your name kid?"

"peter." he said. percy chuckled again. "yeah? mr d used to call me peter. he still does sometimes."

the little boy laughed as percy entered the bathroom. "really? so that's why he calls me percy sometimes." he said, forgetting he had to pee. percy smiled. "probably. go and let go all your pee boy, i'll be back on busin-"

he couldn't finish his sentence when annabeth rushed to the boys bathroom. "percy!" she yelled.

percy turned around to look at annabeth and smiled. "hey 'beth, nice to see you. not a really good spot for meeting don't ya thi-"

"there's no time for joking seaweed brain! she's fucking drowning!" she yelled at him. percy immediatly took of his glasses as they already start running towards the ocean.

"who?" he asked.

"y/n! you know her right?" annabeth said breathlessly.

of course he did, he fucking adored her. percy's worry only growed when he saw how big those waves were. the demigod's were already in panic as they looked at the sea. chiron called percy and said that the daughter of hera needed to be saved immediatly. percy didn't even stopped to listen to chiron as he dive into the water.

you thought you could handle it, or at least swim up and sit on your board. but no, poseidon was definetly in a bad mood, and he was taking his anger out from you, probably.

as you lost your balance and fell into the water, you didn't panicked and started swimming as usual. but big and strong waves hit you back and forth, until you were tired, swallowed too many water and fainted.

when you opened your eyes, you thought you were in elysium. or it was just some another version of the little mermaid.

percy smiled at you as you opened your eyes, his big hands cupping your face. he was panting, not because he was tired from all the swimming, no. he was panting because he fight with the thought of losing you for the past five minutes as he worked on getting out the water you swallowed.

"there you are, breath honey. can you do that?" he asked, and you caughed a bit. you nodded softly as he lifted you until you sat up, his strong arms still supporting your back.

you looked around, there was only the two of you, the crowd was long gone. you looked at percy again as your hand find it's way to your forehead. "what happened?" you asked.

"nothin' to worry about angel, just some big waves." he explained, caressing your back softly. you let your body rest on his chest, sighing as you remembered what happened.

"didn't thought the waves would get this crazy." you said, voice still hoarse as you caughed again. percy nodded as he patted your back. "me either."

after a minute of silence, percy finally speaked up again. "i... i'm sorry i was late, i took this little kid called peter to the bathroom because mr d asked me to, i swear i'd help you quicker if i didn-"

"percy, hey, it's okay." you shushed him, your hand caressing his arm. "you already saved my life."

percy nodded again. "yeah i know, i know. but i just," he sighed. "i don't know what i'd do if i lost you before i even asked you out."

you giggled to his chest. "yeah? you were gonna ask me out? when?" he smiled into your hair.

"today. been watching you for sometime now."

"creep." you joked.

"observing beauty, i'd say." he said, smirking.

you sat straight and looked deep into his eyes, which now matched with the color of the sea.

"i'd love to grab some lemonade with you, as a way of thanking you i guess." you said as you smirked back at him. percy chuckled as his hand caressed your cheek.

"who am i to refuse a sweet thank you, right?"

#omg #what did i wrotee #not me ignoring the requests to write this #lifeguard percy is a need #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show #percy x you

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bimb0fy · 3 months

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— 02; bonfire

pairings; luke castellan x hephaestus!reader

warnings; smoking, SMUT, slight bondage, slight degrading, public sex, loss of virginity, raw sex (wrap your willy silly!!), rough sex, dom!luke, corruption kink if you squint, maybe, idfk atp, wrote this b4 my English speaking exam so it's shit.

summary; the weekly bonfire, a tradition for councillors like yourself, like luke, but this one, this one had a certain twist to it.

wordcount; 1.4k

masterlist!! | navigation!!

-> You walked down to the bonfire. You're brother Alex made you dress up for Luke. He could sniff something happening and usually, Alex was always correct about that.

You raised the low rise pants, the star imprints were different. Yet he wasn't overboard with the outfit, allowing you to wear white shirt instead of a tank like he originally planned.

You smiled as you found your way to the councillors bonfire, each week, you'd throw one and get wasted and high.

You plopped down beside the Apollo Councillor, smiling at her as you talked.

"Hey mender, wanna get outta here?" Luke said as he raised his hand for you to take, which you gladly accepted.

You walked to the lake, hand in hand as you walked down the path. "Wanna play a game? Like 20 questions?" Luke asked you as you gave him a confused glance.

"Why?" You asked the boy who shrugged.

"I don't know anything about you." Luke answered. You smiled and nodded as he smiled back. "Let's see, uh, what's you're favorite color?"

"Basic much." You joked as he laughed. You sat down on the dock, taking off your slippers as you dipped your legs into the water, Luke sat crossing his legs beside you as you looked at the stars. "Green."

"Green?" Luke asked as you nodded. He smiled before turning back to the sky. "Mine is red."

"Okay uh, have you ever left camp?" You asked the boy who shook his head. "Wait really?"

"I don't have a place to go back to." Luke looked at the planks, tracing the outlines as you looked away, placing a hand on his in an attempt of comfort.

"I go to my aunts sometimes, my mom she uh, she died from an illness." You muttered as Luke looked at you. You gave him a sad smile as he pulled out a cigarette box from his cargos. "Really Castellan?"

"Shut up, don't act like you don't smoke." Luke laughed as he placed the cigarette in his mouth, taking out his lighter but groaning when it doesn't light.

"Here. Let me." You said as you removed your legs from the water, shivering from the cold as you leaned in.

You snaped your fingers, a little flame exiting from your hand as you lit up the cigarette for him.

Your face close to his. His gaze steady onto your eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his breath hitched.

Once the cigarette lit up, you moved back to your original position. Luke exhaled the smoke, handing you the cigarette as you placed it into your mouth.

"Shit that's a nice one." You exhaled before handing it back, only for him to shake his head, taking out another one.

He took out his lighter, lighting up the cigarette before looking out to the stars, but your thoughts were confusing you.

He didn't correct you with his sword, his lighter is clearly working. It was almost as if he knew you'd light the cigarette for him, why was he acting this way.

"Hey Luke?" You called out as the boy turned to face you, a smile on his face as he inhaled the smoke, taking out the cigarette before answering.

"Yeah mender." He smiled as you crossed your legs, facing him as he did the same. "Whats up?"

"You're lighters working." You pointed out as Luke held onto it. He glanced at it, then back at you, clearly still confused.

"And what's the issue mender?" He asked before putting the cigarette back into his mouth, you put out yours, causing him to do the same as he stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

"You didn't correct me when I was making your sword, and you knew I'd light up your cigarette if your lighter randomly stopped working, didn't you?" You asked him as Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

Luke didn't even know how to respond. He knew what you were thinking. He leaned in, taking a second to watch your reaction.

You leaned in, intchung closer as you placed you hand onto his cheek. You're noses touching as his hands snakes around your waist.

Without warning, he pushed you onto the dock, knees on both sides of your thigh as he kissed you.

You let out a groan as he grabbed your arms, clutching onto your wrists as his lips hatched to your neck.

"Luke!" You breathed out as his hands found their way under your shirt.

"Mhm." He mumbled into your neck, kissing and biting the area. You let out a groan as you pushed him off, he had a hurt expression on his face as you sat up. "Sorry."

"No no it's just. I've never been with anyone, ever." You confessed as Luke raises his eyebrows at you, seemingly shocked by your confession.

"Really? Huh I gotta say I wasn't expecting that." Luke muttered as he stared at you, smiling, yet it wasn't a smile. It was a lustful grin at most.

You'd be lying if you didn't like Luke, everyone did.

Yet, he liked you. He chose you.

"Do you wanna?" Luke asked you, a grin plastered onto his face. You were nervous obviously, and all you could think about was someone finding you out here with him.

Luke would be lying if he said that didn't turn him on. He needed you, from the moment he saw you in your pony tail, working on a random Apollo kid's arrows and god, you were breathtaking.

"Okay." You whispered as he smirked. He gave you a grin, a grin that you interpreted as a 'I'm not gonna go soft on you' grin.

He pushed you onto your stomach, rasing up your hips as he smirked. His hand traced against the burn scars along your back, raising up your shirt as he kissed your back.

He slowly slid your pants down, you underwear falling along as he groaned at the sight.

You were pure, he could tell.

"God, mender you ready?" He asked you as he palmed through his cargos. You nodded your head, he kissed your back before unbuttoning his pants.

He pulled out his cock, precum spilling onto his fist as he gave himself a few jerks before lining up with you.

One swift movement, that was all it took for his to enter.

You let out moans and mewls at the unfamiliar feeling. You could hear Luke's groans as you clenched around him.

His hips started thrusting into you, not giving you time to adjust to his side as you let out moans, the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and completely obliterating you was too loud for you're liking.

But Luke was making you feel too good.

"Luke. Oh. Oh Luke right there." You moaned as you're eyes rolled to the back of your head. Tongue out as you couldn't think anymore, simply panting at the way he was completely destroying your insides.

"Oh god you're so tight, just my personal little cocksleeve huh." He whispered as he pounded into you. You moaned as he slapped your pussy, pulling put and flipping you over.

Your arousal dripped everywhere as he changed positions, entering you once more as he watched your tits bounce at his pace.

"Fuck you're perfect babe, made for me." Luke muttered as he drilled your sobbing cunt, fully disappearing in you.

Without a second thought, your back arched as you came. He groaned as he helped you through your high, pulling put and finishing onto your stomach as you let out loud moans.

He plopped down beside you, grinning as he looked at you. "Not bad for a virgin mender."

"Shut up Castellan." You laughed as you sat up with a strained moan. Biting your lip to forget your aching cunt as you slowly put your pants back on.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Luke joked as you widened your eyes at him. "No worries. I'll do it next time."

You smiled at his sentence. Next time. He wanted to see you again.

"It's getting late, cmon, I'll walk you to your cabin." He stood up, raising his hand for you to take it, which you gladly did as he wrapped his arm around you. "So tell me, what's your dream date huh."

"So now you're gonna take me out to dinner huh? What happened to doing that first."

#fanfic #x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x hephaestus!reader #hephaestus #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians fanfic #percy jackson and the lightning thief

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floatyflowers · 3 months

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Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Five

<<< Chapter Four

"My back hurts so bad right now"

"It must be the seats...There is no way this is what sacred smells like"

Percy whines, as all four of you sit in the back of the bus.

The blond boy feels bothered for not being able to sit beside you.

"We’re soldiers on a mission. It’s not a vacation." Annabeth shoots back.

You start scratching your back from the itchness and the pain.

"I will go to the bathroom in the store, be right back"

You announce and leave before they can say anything to you.

Percy stands up to follow you, but Annabeth forces him back in his seat.

"No, you will stay right there, I'm going to go check on her"

°°°

The moment Annabeth enters the toilet, she is shocked to see white wings on your back.

"Are those wings? And your eyes, they are red"

"Yes" you answer nervously.

"Oh...wow"

"I know, do you think I can fly with them?" you ask excitedly.

I mean it's every child's dream to have wings to fly.

And now you got the chance to do that.

"Your wings might cause a huge problem it will attract monsters"

"Don't worry, my dad gave me a music box to keep the monsters away"

You pull out the music box from your bag.

"Also, can humans see my wings?"

A woman enters the toilet after you ask that question.

She only washes her hands then walks out.

"No, they don't" Annabeth says after the woman leave.

"We need to leave, I sense that we are being followed by a monster"

You turn on the music box as a beautiful melody begins to play.

"This will keep us safe"

°°°

You and Annabeth walk into the bus with Annabeth shouting to the two boys to open the windows.

Percy only stares at you in surprise at your new appearance, then hurries off to break the window with Grover when he sees Mrs. Dodds.

As the passengers get off the bus when the driver announces emergency, one of the furies fly into the bus through the broken window.

The monster looks at you ready to approach you.

But the melody makes it scream in pain when it was close to touching you.

Annabeth takes her chance and throws her dagger at the fury, killing it as it turns into dust.

All four of you escape quickly.

°°°

"Hades has kidnapped your mother, (Y/n)"

Annabeth says, as you walk all together in the Satyr path.

"What? Why would he do that!" you exclaim, worried for your mother.

"Who told you that?" Percy inquires, looking at her in suspicion.

But before she could answer, Grover sniffs the air.

"Do you guys smell that?"

"Grover, I’m not kidding..." Percy asserts.

"No, neither am I. Just shush."

"Hamburgers" you sigh at Grover, causing him to blush.

"I think you are just hungry, Grover"

"No, I'm not, somebody's making hamburgers in the middle of nowhere, on a satyr path. Whoever it is... they’re from our world."

°°°

You don't know what made you trust Percy and go inside Medusa's house along with Grover and Annabeth.

Probably because Mrs.Dodds is outside waiting to snatch you and Percy away.

"You're concerned I would hold a grudge against you simply because you are a daughter of Athena?"

You don't dare to look at Medusa even if she is hiding her eyes.

Medusa continues speaking to Annabeth.

"You shouldn’t be. We're not our parents after all. And you and I might have more in common than you think. Please, sit and eat."

Letting out a nervous breath after Medusa starts speaking to you.

"You must be the daughter of Calista, you look like her when she was your age."

Medusa notices that you are not looking at her, she could feel your fear.

"Your mother was a friend of mind, she visited me and told me about her encounters with the gods, poor thing, they wouldn't leave her"

"...They" you inquire.

"Your mother is the daughter of Nyx, her beauty attracted the attention of many gods including Poseidon, Hades, Apollo, Hermes, and Eros"

Percy shivers at the thought that his father loved your mother.

Maybe he can succeed where his father failed.

"Your mother is an enchanteress not a demigod"

Grover jokes, but stops when Annabeth glares at him.

That must be why Hades kidnapped your mother.

Little do you know that you might up having a similar fate like your mother.

But with demigods instead.

Masterlist

#tw: toxic relationships #platonic yandere #reader insert #yandere percy jackson #yandere percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians

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keerysfreckles · 4 months

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better now — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: when a matching scar is the start of something new

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns

a/n: i seriously need the motivation to read botl 😞

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

the last thing y/n remembered was fighting off a dragon. she was sent on a quest by chiron. she was more than excited, however the only downside was she had to go alone. that's what the oracle stated, and no one ever questions the oracle.

y/n's eyes opened slowly. the bright light inside the infirmary already started to give her a headache. she turned her head, and saw three apollo campers.

she turned her head the other way, and saw chiron.

"it's good to see you awake miss y/n," chiron spoke kindly.

the girl sits up slightly, leaning back against the pillow.

"what uh- what happened?" she asks.

chiron describes the events y/n went through earlier that morning. she made it to the edge of manhatten, far away from camp, but not far enough where she couldn't have been found. a few experienced campers went with chiron to help and pick up y/n. luke was the one to fight off the dragon, after y/n had gotten attacked.

"is the dragon dead?"

chiron nods. he then explains what happened to y/n. she has a bandage wrapped around her leg. the white material was covering the scratch the large dragon had left.

"where's luke?"

"he should be at sword practice. would you like me to go retrieve him?"

y/n simply nods.

her and luke didn't normally talk. it's not that they hated each other, they just didn't need to talk to one another. but y/n felt it was necessary to thank the boy for helping her with the dragon.

a knock fills the infirmary.

"chiron told me you wanted to see me?"

y/n nods again, "he told me you fought off the dragon. after i, you know, got attacked."

luke sits on the edge of the bed and faces the girl.

"i mean, you gave me a head start," he jokes, causing the two of you to laugh.

"how are you feeling?" he asks.

y/n shrugs, "they gave me a lot of nectar and ambrosia, so i feel better for now. minus the giant bandage on my leg." y/n gestures to her wrapped up leg under the blanket.

"hey, looks like we'll have matching scares now," luke smiles.

y/n's eyebrows furrow. "how are they matching if they aren't exactly in the same spot?"

"both done by a dragon," he says it as if it's obvious.

y/n laughs, "sure, i guess we have matching scars, you dork."

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x fem reader #pjo #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians

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rebel-at-heart713 · 1 year

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Is anyone else very impressed with how Rick Riordan basically tricked Disney into publishing books with very LGBT+ characters which sort of seems like something Disney tries to hide. (Hide meaning only tiny glimpses that they can hide easily)

What I mean by “tricking”

The Lightning Thief. Simple. All the kids are assumed cis white and straight. Only really inclusive in the way that they have learning disabilities and messy family life. And it stays that way, maybe adding some side characters that are POC, (Beckendorf being described as black but there’s not much interaction with him until The Demigod Files and Last Olympian. Maybe you could say Nico and Bianca are Italian immigrants.

Then you get to Heroes of Olympus, where out of the 7 in Great Prophecy only 3 are white, (you got Piper being Native American, Hazel is Black, Leo is Latino and Frank is Chinese-Canadian) but most are still assumed straight. Until you get Nico’s reveal in House of Hades (if I remember right)

But then….oh boy.

Trials of Apollo.

Apollo is the main character and canonically bisexual, talking about several past lovers some male some female. Even stating one of his campers mortal parent is also her father. There is a cannon gay couple. There’s a cannon old lesbian couple.

Magnus Chase

Practically cannon gay couple (one deaf), Muslim character, pan character, trans gender fluid.

Now we are getting a book that stars a gay couple.

Rick basically said to Disney, “look at these! Harmless adventure stories. Look. Locked in? Okay! POC and LGBT+ can’t say no to me now I’m selling too many books. If I go to someone else I’ll just be making them money.

I just find it very funny, but I also credit Rick with exposing me to a lot of it. Before I read these books I hadn’t seen too much of this stuff in other media.

(Also adding how in Daughter of the Deep the main character gets her period in the middle of the book and it’s treated as normal.)

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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“Oh, shoot, sorry. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”

Nico shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The light in the infirmary is low, and strangely soothing. It’s almost hard to keep his eyes open. But he manages, rubbing his knuckles under the curve of his eyesockets, and searches in the dark until he finds what woke him up.

Will stands a couple feet away from his bed, figure curled and shadowy, owlish eyes wide and almost unnaturally reflective in the dark.

“‘S’okay,” he mumbles. “Couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly Nico feels warmer where Will has stepped closer. “You in pain?“

“No. Just bad at sleeping.”

“Hey, me too.”

Surprise at Will’s easy admission and a little bit starstruck at the bright flash of Will’s grin, Nico doesn’t have the chance to beat himself up over being so flippantly open. His teeth seemed to glow as much as the whites of his eyes, which would be creepy, except it’s hard to feel anything but calm as a cool night breeze wafts the scent of lavender from the sill planters in every inch of the infirmary, and it’s hard to think of Will as anything but warm. Especially the hand he places, briefly, on the curve of Nico’s knee.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that.”

“Still. Sorry for waking you up.”

Nico hums, fiddling with his skull ring. “Why were you up, anyway?”

“Oh, I won’t have time to sleep for another couple days.”

There’s a mellow cracking sound, and then all of Will’s knuckles begin to glow a soft, sunset yellow. Nico startles.

“Apollo thing,” Will explains. A smirk is now visible at the corner of his mouth, forcing a dimple on his right cheek. In his hands, almost hard to see under the glow, are three small vials of something Nico doesn’t recognize. “Getting meds and salves in order.”

Hesitantly, Nico drags his gaze away from the clinking glass bottles, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes. They’re ridiculously bright. Is that an Apollo thing, too?

“Why does that mean you can’t sleep?”

Will gestures to the myriad of occupied beds outside the curtains Nico has pulled up. “Shitton of injured, man. I got way more people than I got stuff. I prepped for the Romans beforehand, obviously, but I didn’t have a good hand on their numbers and didn’t prep enough. I’m short on supplies. Haven’t slept since Gaea did.” At Nico’s look of alarm, he quickly assures, “But don’t worry, I had Cecil brew me something strong. It’s disgusting, so I think it might be his Coffee Redbull Matcha Heartstopper Special, With A Shot Of Crushed Caffeine Pills For Good Measure, but I’m not sure. Hands are only a little shakey, though, feel.”

In a mirror of a few days ago (fuck, Nico hopes he’s kidding; how long can people go without sleep?), he darts out and rests his hands under Nico’s. Sure enough, they’re trembling, although nothing nearly as bad as before.

“Dangerous levels of sleep deprivation aren’t as bad as delivering a baby, huh.”

Will shudders. “Don’t even joke.”

He looks so genuinely horrified that Nico can’t help but laugh. All they’ve seen, all they’ve suffered — and golden boy is gagging at the miracle of life. If Nico wasn’t so sure that he’d seen at least as many gory nightmares as Nico, if not more, he’d tease him for being squeamish.

…Actually.

“What kind of school nurse wannabe is squidged out by birth?”

“Nurse?” Will squawks, snatching his hands away (Nico finds his own hands, strangely and suddenly, cold). “I didn’t go to seven years of med school to be called a school nurse wannabe!”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You didn’t go to med school. You’re fifteen.”

“As I said.” He grins teasingly. “I didn’t go.”

It takes Nico a second, but when he gets it he cannot physically hold himself back from kicking him. Solace, weak from muffled laughter, stumbles sideways into a lamp.

“Ay! Be careful, you wanna kill the camp’s only brain surgeon?”

“If he’s being annoying,” Nico bites back. He can’t quite stop smiling, and he’s embarrassed about it, but thankfully the darkness hides his face. “There’s no way you’ve done brain surgery.”

The shitty cot Nico’s been coerced into camping on for the next three days creaks as Will perches on the edge of it.

“Have so. In the woods, two years ago, removed a brain tumour. Stressful as shit.” He flashes another sideways grin. “Couple dozen more medical emergencies under my belt, and I might actually be as qualified as a nurse in this country’s garbage medical system. Thank the gods for them, honestly. They do a shit lot more than a lot of doctors claim to.”

Sensing the topic change for what it is, Nico doesn’t press any further. “That what you wanna do?”

“Aw, man, I don’t even want to think about it. The idea of someone else running this infirmary gives me a stress ulcer. Y’all do a lot of stupid shit and frankly some of the procedures I have performed exist in no medical textbooks anywhere, medical or no.” He snorts. “Anyways.”

His hands are blazingly warm again, almost like sun through a maginifying glass, when they pat his shin twice. He stands, stretching — more bursts of light appearing along the length of his spine, lighting what his fading knuckles leave out.

“Try to sleep again, Neeks. You’ll need it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to say that to you,” Nico says. Will waves his hand dismissively, and in a fit of impulse Nico reaches out and grabs it, meeting his raised eyebrow with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I mean it, Will. No one’s awake right now. I just woke up. Why don’t you crash for an hour or so? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Will hesitates. “If anything happens, that’s on me. It — I can’t let it be on me.”

“Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. Of course Will doesn’t trust him, Nico let someone die in front of his eyes, Nico is the bringer of death and darkness, why would he —

“Yeah.” Will sighs. Nico looks up, startled, but the medic is eyeing one of the few spare cots, face screwed up in consideration. “You’ll wake me?”

“Immediately,” Nico assures hastily. He nods his head at the bunk next to him. “Sleep, man. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, well, just what I’ve always wanted to hear from you. You look stunning, by the way.”

Nico knows it’s a joke, but he flushes anyway. Thank Hades again for the dark infirmary, and the length of his hair.

“Whatever. Sleep or don’t.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

In seconds he’s out of his flip-flops, slightly-scratchy blankets turned up and wrapped tightly around him all the way up to his neck.

“Thanks, Nico. I owe you.”

In the next breath, he’s out, all that’s visible of him the flutter of his light eyelashes and the tangled mop of blond hair. He snores, slightly, with every puffed exhale; a tiny, stuttered sound, not unlike a cat. It’s kind of cute, and Nico’s smiling before he realising.

“You don’t owe anybody shit.” He shakes his head fondly, leaning back onto his pillows to keep an eye out. “Goodnight, Will.”

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yandere-swallowtailcherry · 4 months

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☀️Yandere!Apollo with a Female!Gojo!Reader☀️

This is from a poll I made. This was the most voted on that poll (God's School Aphrodite!Reader and Mitsuri!Reader both tied for second, but I'll do those as well.)

The first part is told in the narrator's pov, then it's in your pov.

This won't follow the original plot, so in this, Geto is on Gojo!reader's side!

Reader is 28, which is Gojo's canon age in the series (This won't contain spoilers from the manga, so don't worry!)

Also, thank you @forbidden-sunlight for helping me think of a plot for this!! Appreciate it! 👍

Hades hasn't felt this stressed out over anything in his life.

Multiple reports stated that these creatures called Curses have been the source of his stress. Not only were they killing thousands of humans, but they were also destroying the bifrost, the gate that only the chief gods can access, himself included.

He's tried to take care of them himself, but he couldn't exactly get rid of them. So he resorted to letting sorcerers kill them since they were one of the only ones who can effectively take them on.

(Y/n) Gojo is one of the strongest sorcerers he has, so she was the one who was constantly working. She's one of the only sorcerers who can take down even the strongest curses with ease.

She refused to do so, unless he lets her three students go with her so they can grow. He was against it at first, seeing how they were teenagers, practically kids! But (Y/n) wouldn't have it any other way. Hades reluctantly let her three students go with her.

Yuuji Itadori, a 15 year old boy who was the host of the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, another 15 year old boy who seemed to be Sukuna's interest and Nobara Kugisaki, a teenage girl.

During the three months of eliminating curses, her students have continued to grow stronger.

They were her precious students, and she won't allow anyone to separate them from her....

"How long until we find this curse?" Nobara complained, already feeling bored from the long walking. Megumi rolled his eyes and continued looking around. Yuuji didn't complain at all and was helping Megumi.

"Relax, we'll find that curse!" Yuuji said, smiling at Nobara.

"He's so handsome." A female said to herself, catching the three teenager's attention, as well as yours. The female revealed herself to be a nymph, but as soon as she was visible, the curse had appeared and brutally murdered the nymph. Megumi immediately summoned his wolves, the black and white ones ready to fight the curse.

A certain god with long, pink hair was nearby, wanting to take a break from the nymphs. Apollo had heard the commotion and went over to see what was going on. The god saw three teenage kids fighting a curse along with a grown woman with a blindfold over her eyes.

But this curse proved to be too much for the three teenagers and you had to finish it off, which you did with ease using black flash.

"I've never seen a human perform such a technique. It's.... Amazing."

Unbeknownst to the four of them, the same god had watched the whole fight, more focused on you. You're very beautiful, and he knew it.

A man your age with long black hair with parts of it tied up came over, asking you to go relax, even for just a bit. At first, you refused because you didn't want to be separated from your students, but they managed to convince you.

You lifted your blindfold up, revealing one of the most beautiful eyes Apollo has ever seen in his immortal life. Multiple sparkles of lights reflected brightly in your sky blue eyes, layered by white eyelashes.

"Her eyes.... They're like the blue skies themselves...." Apollo thought.

"Sure. I can also take a load off for a bit." You replied, putting the blindfold over your eyes. You urged them to go ahead, while you follow behind. When they were far enough, Apollo decided now was the time to get the woman's attention.

"Hey!"

You turned your head, seeing the pink haired God approach you with a smirk on his face. You now looked slightly disinterested, though it was hard to tell.

"I assume you're Apollo?~" You asked, folding your arms. Apollo felt his confidence grow from your acknowledgement of him.

"I am. But that's not why I'm here." Apollo replied, flipping some of his hair back.

"Make it quick then." You said.

"I've seen your beautiful techniques and-"

"Not interested. I've already did what I needed to do for now, and I'd like to relax." (Y/n) replied, turning back around and started walking away. Apollo was surprised at her answer, just watching her leave.

"What?- You-"

"Besides... You're too weak~" You finally spoke, looking back with a grin and looking forward. Apollo knows he should be angry at the audacity of this woman. But he couldn't. Instead...

He was more attracted to her.

And so began his little quest to win your heart. Ever since then, he's been watching your every step, figuring out your likes and dislikes and more effective ways to get closer to you.

Whenever he meets you in person, he later found out that you were oddly playful and nonchalant, despite your cruelty towards curses. Your interactions slowly grew, even if Apollo had to do it first. At first, you didn't want anything to do with Apollo, but he keeps coming to you, so you just let him do whatever.

But doing that only increased his love for you.

Apollo has always seen you with the man with long black hair, whose name is Geto Suguru. From your interactions with him, he has a strong connection with you, and it enrages him. He hates the way Suguru gets close to you. He didn't like the attention you give Geto. You always greeted with a playful smile, and he wishes he was the one you smile at.

He has to get rid of him, so you can only give him the attention you give Geto. Geto Suguru.... Has to go.

So that you'll have no choice but to love him and him only~

#yandere record of ragnarok #yandere record of ragnarok x reader #yandere apollo x reader #gojo!reader #finally i finished this!#hopefully it's good enough

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puffins-studio · 10 months

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Nico Di Angelo 💀 Will Solace ☀️

You don’t know how happy I was at the news of their solo book! I been off and on Percy Jackson because doctor who but it been on my back burner. And I found the release date of the book before my bad finals and I just had to act as if I didn’t see if so I could focus , problem is my adhd made me completely forget about the book until the pretty cover came on my to my feed and i dropped everything to read it.

I love them💕 I Want to do an embroidery for them too but I think I might listen to the book again as I can’t pick a favorite line to do. I might also do the other main character and add my headcannon ideas as I feel so proud of these came out!

Hazel

Percy & Annabeth

Jason

Leo

If you want to read my headcannons about their outfits, then it under the cut as I have many ideas.

[ID: The picture is a felt doll that is the shape of a gingerbread man with a big circle head Nico Di Angelo and Will solace. Nico have light color felt for skin, very dark brown hair that is to his shoulders and have a bit of a curl. He have black ties shoes, dark grey rip pants, a black and grey shirt with the skull on it. He have on a sliver studded belt, with beads for the studs, and a chain coming off of it. He have his ad jacket with a Italy flag patch in the right side and a sun patch in the left side. He have Bracelet on the hand with the sun patch sleeves. It a rainbow beaded one and a yellow and black twist. On this other wrist he have a black, read, and blue sparky thread one, a ace flags: black, grey,white, purple. And he have a beaded disability flag colors are black, green, blue, white,yellow, reddish pick, black. Will has light color felt for skin, short yellow blonde. He has ears and a little bit of black felt is peaking out for hearing aids.he have a blue shirt and a fort pocket, a little coco puff is in the pocket, he have on cargo shorts, a yellow orange sweatshirt around his waist, he I have on one blue sock and one read with cream shoes that have on the left one embroidery purple hyacinthus, a lyre and in the other side is a bow and arrow and the symbol of healing that have the single snake. He have camp bead and a sliver bead for the ring on the chain. On this left wrist he have a rainbow bracelet, and a random color one that is blue, light purple and light gray. On his other wrist is a bi flag one pink, purple, blue. And the last one is a matching one with Nico that is black and yellow.:ID]

Headcannons for Will

Star Wars

-I was going for like Star Wars socks, as this boy is either in flip flops or cowboy boots, he rarely wear anything else so he have fun socks to show off when he does

-(Maybe not the first time but maybe one of the first few time Nico said he love Will. Will make the Star Wars reference with Hans saying ‘I know’ and Nico is slightly confused. But then imagining his reaction when he all invested in the movie and then Hans say the line and Nico just stops and is like WILL! And will just start laughing “I couldn’t help it!”)

Shoes

-He only have one pair of sneakers and I was trying to think of something to Blightten up his outfit, and thought the Apollo cabin can’t leave anything plain. So Apollo theme shoe (dark idea is that they belonged to one of his older brothers who painted them and died and Will wanted to bring something that reminded him of his family into the underworld with him)

Coco puff

-Little coco puff in Will’s pocket I can’t decide if the little puff is attached to Will because it a deamon that Will actually helps Nico fight or the puffs are attached to anyone who have the same deamons so like if the little one is bad self confidence, then Will also have to work on his bad self confidence

Beads

-Enough beads for him to have gotten to camp one year before Percy. So he had two good years with his siblings before the wars. Just so he also have a family when his mom is on tour. But I do also think he has a lot of hidden Apollo kid power that he doesn’t know about so he think he weak with a randomly strong small. Like that is until Apollo learns where he went and is like how are you alive. Will “power of love… and really bad nicknames”

Disabled

-I tried to give him hearing aids, they enup being hidden in his hair, I was trying to think of a color that would stand out against the yellow hair as I also thought he would pick a noticeable color, and I wanted with black. Just him going into the underworld with so many extra batteries, but also him and Nico do a bit of asl or just come up with little hand signals.

Bracelet

-Rainbow one, bi vone, matching one with Nico, and a random one from a sibling

Headcannon Nico

Bracelets

-Nico has bracelets as during craft time some of the younger Apollo kids were make some and they all like to make Will some. At the time Nico was there making their matching ones at the time and will was making one for Nico. And then one little kid come up and whispers something to Will he grins. Nico look up because the silences and Will just nods to Nico, then the little kid goes over to Nico and holds up the bracelet and said they made it for him. Will fills in that they want to give it to him and so Nico just like ‘yeah sure’ and hold out his wrist and the kid tie it on before running happyly back to their table. Will leans over like ‘now you can’t take it off’ Nico just looks at him and Will is just ‘how did you think I get so many.” And then the younger kids even some from other cabins make Nico bracelets and he feels honored,

-Random one that is supposed to be the one the kids made him but also slightly Star Wars theme, I was trying to make it with the dark sparkly thread as I can imagine that how a kid see Nico. The other one is beads for the disability pride flag. Either Will makes if for him and he have one too if something with the flag as I love deaf Will and disabled Nico. Or another little kid make it for Nico who also have a disability and that help Nico acc his. I had to add a asexual one too, I can’t help it. Beads so he can mess with them when on edge

Beads

-And I love the idea that nico some how get the camp beads either he steal one each year as he wanted to be apart but hey keep them in a box some place and then after will saying something like he always had a fear of Nico leaving, and to show him he acc camp as home, the next morning Nico walked out of his cabin with the beads. Or Will just keep saving beads for Nico. Like it started as Will keep going around asking about Nico and got upset when he was told he left already, maybe he ask Percy and Percy tell him something like Nico doesn’t like camp. But Will meet Nico in the small window when Nico was at camp before he first ran away and got a little crush that his siblings notice, and then when Michael was giving the beads to his cabin, he give two to will, and just held a finger to his mouth before Will could say anything and say something like ‘you need to hold onto Nico’s bead, in case he comes back.” And so when Will was head he keep asking for an extra one to save for Nico. And he gives them to him at one point, maybe even just leave them by his bed during the 3 days.

Jacket

-Nico get a over size jacket so Will can steal it sometimes. He had a Italy flag patch, maybe Chiara got it from him because they are both Italian. And then sun patch maybe as a slight joke that the Apollo kids got him as he is always with them. And then I tried to do it so it look like he sewed them in himself. Pockets are totally full of chocolate and random rocks he finds, that he offers to Will and younger campers.

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yeyayeya · 28 days

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Major spoilers for Hades 2!! (I guess? Kind of? If you want to go through the game blind don’t read this)

I wanted to share my thoughts I had while I watched the livestream so…

OMG it looks so cool?? I am digging Melinoë’s design (I have also been pronouncing her name wrong all this time whoops)

And the new characters??? I should’ve known Hecate would be involved since Melinoë is, you know, a witch and all. Can we talk about Nemesis? Omg mommy please step on me. I love her design! And we get more of Nyx’s children

Also… Nyx can only have twinks and butch women as her children. And Moros? I saw the white hair and knew he looked familiar (Thanatos my boy where are you)

Ok but the new gods? APOLLO!!!! And I am assuming Artemis functions like Thanatos did right? I was not expecting that voice from Hestia, but I am all for it. Hephaestus too! I didn’t think the other gods that appeared before would get new designs, but hell yeah. Demeter looked so cool. I think the only one of the 12 Olympians missing is Hera right? I kinda wanna see her

And Selene? I LOVE HER DESIGN SO MUCH!!! The art in Hades never misses. (I was also not expecting Odysseus like hello). I was a huge mythology nerd as a child so I instantly recognized Arachne

Skelly! And Dora reminds me quite a bit of Dusa

Hecate being the first boss is cool af. And Melinoë’s whole thing with revenge against Cronos is something I like (Cronos being the big bad? Percy Jackson much huh). I didn’t think she was that much younger than Zagreus, but they were taken away just when she was a child? That’s cold. I am actually liking her character tho. Zagreus will always have my heart, but I’m interested in what happens as you progress more

I am super excited for the game to come out, and I am going to not shut up about it once it does

#yeyarants #hades game #hades supergiant #hades #hades 2 #melinoe #hecate #nemesis #apollo #artemis #hestia #hephaestus #demeter #moros #zagreus

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ohforficsake · 25 days

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Talk Refined

main masterlist

Summary: Orpheus and Eurydice. A Blacksmith and a Warrior. A Lawyer and the Lady He Meets at a Bar. Two souls fated to find each other across lifetimes. Here are just a few of those stories.

Pairing: Ezra x f!Reader. Reader is able-bodied and takes many forms. Described as having hair that can be pinned back in one instance, generally open description in others.

This is my submission for @wannab-urs Hozier Drabble Challenge! My character was Ezra, and my prompt was "Talk" off of Wasteland, Baby!. This was such a fun challenge, thank you so much for organizing it, Gin!

Word Count: ~5.8K (I blew past drabble, I'm so sorry)

Rating: Explicit 18+ / brief fingering / brief handjob / unprotected piv / language / main character death / Minors DNI

A/N: This was so incredibly fun to write and I actually had a huge smile on my face when I finished it that I'm pretty sure is still there. I'm incredibly happy with how this turned out. I've never written for Ezra before, so this was a really interesting exercise in finding the voice of a character that I found quite challenging to get to the heart of. Ezra folks, I really hope I did your boy justice.

Notes on literary references and the source of Orpheus' speech (not written by me) included at the end.

I'm also kind of just launching this super hot off the press, so please forgive any typos you may find and definitely message me about them once you're done reading.

Massive thank you to @beskarandblasters for the beautiful cover art for this story! 💚 Go hit Kel up if you're looking for a lovely header for your work!

Dividers by @cafekitsune!

Part I: The Darkness of the Night

He’s called Orpheus in this lifetime. Blessed with his mother’s tongue.

No way of knowing he forever will be.

A twist of phrase. A glint in the eye.

A white patch at his hairline is the only mark of his father. As if licked there by the rays of Apollo’s creation.

And he is his mother’s boy, plucking at lyre strings and humming low, branches bending to his ambit as he harmonizes with the rush of Zephyrus’ wings through tall grasses.

But you are a rich distraction indeed.

A distraction perhaps of the West Wind’s own making, for the god has always been a soft touch.

The breeze toys with your chiton as you drift in and out of dreams.

Molding gossamer to your form.

A promise of something just for him.

Orpheus reaches to run his knuckles down your arm, awaiting your stirring before he takes fingers over your shoulder, up to cup your cheek.

You turn to press against the warmth of his hand. The pad of his thumb softly skimming your bottom lip.

It sends sparks racing across your skin.

He hums a laugh and fits closer to you, warmer now than the midday sun. You slant your eyes up at him, greeted with a smile before he bends to press a long kiss to your mouth.

His lyre is discarded in the grass now, wildflowers poking up through its strings.

The hand on your cheek moves to pull at his red linen handkerchief around your neck. Tied there in the morn to guard the late-hour transgressions of his lips from judgmental stares.

Again revealed to him now.

He tucks the cloth into his zoster before his fingers dip under the gauze of your robes, cupping one breast before his lips replace fabric.

“The dryads, my darling,” you whisper a warning into the heated hollow of his mouth.

“Fret not, my love,” he chides with a whisper.

And you whimper a wanton, insincere protest as his hand adjusts to move lower still, nimble fingers inching your hemline up until your thighs are bared to him.

“Surely such creatures would sympathize. Look favorably on newlywed dalliance.”

“For they understand pleasures such as these,” he murmurs as his fingers slip over your core.

"The nymphs haven’t our flesh," you gasp against his curls as he bends to nip at the lush of your breast.

"They have our desires."

"The nymphs know fertile things in ways we never shall, my darling Eurydice," ghosts hot against your skin.

"And surely they know what comes of something flush with want."

The press of his length against you causes your hips to tilt into his hand as your languid knees fall open.

"To deny that nature is to deny the nymphs themselves, little dove."

He tips his face to brush petal-soft lips against your frantic pulse as he shifts over you.

"For you see, they don’t care."

And the breach of him causes your back to arch, nails digging into the corded muscle of his arms.

You bend enough for your eyes to land on the grove of oak trees.

Unsure if begging forgiveness.

Or reveling in their jealousy.

But there are other eyes on you this day. Watching the deft way your husband wrings pleasure from your form.

The way he rolls you over on a bed of meadowsweet to press deeper still.

Holding your body to his as he pulls music from your throat.

Other eyes, indiscreet in their desire and relentless in their pursuit.

Other eyes that lead to your journey across the Styx.

Lead to Orpheus’ torment.

They say there are ways to speak with the dead.

But words will not pacify the poet when the possibility exists to feel you beneath him again.

A body that writhes under his own. Skin soft against the way his burns.

The way you welcome the thick weight of him.

All of him.

Into the warm clutch of your wet cunt.

And Orpheus, driven by his desire and blessed with his mother’s gift, marches boldly into the depths of grief.

“You powers divine of the subterranean kingdom, where all of mortal creation must one day sink to our doom, if you will give me permission to tell you the truth unvarnished by shifty pretenses…”

“I’d hoped to be able to bear my loss and confess that I tried.”

And the dance of his fingers over gut string pricks the ears of the damned as he gives verse to his flesh’s torment.

“In the name of these confines of fear, in the name of this vast abyss and your realm of infinite silence, I, Orpheus, implore you, unravel the web of my dear Eurydice’s early passing.”

A prayer for relief.

“This is the place that we all are bound for, our final dwelling, and yours is the longest reign that the human race must endure.”

Through vulpine teeth.

“Eurydice too, when her due of years has been ripely completed, shall own your sway. Till then, I beg you to let me enjoy her.”

And it moves the hound to cease its lashing.

Moves the one eternally punished to rest upon his stone.

Moves the dead of Winter to cave to the tender brush of Spring’s hand.

And you are called forth by a voice between what should be your ears.

And Orpheus begins to move.

Daring to hope for your sweet clutch again as your footsteps grow louder against stone.

As you take the form he knows, more corporeal with every footfall.

The tenderness in your ankle made manifest with flesh.

And his cock throbs with the thought of you.

His wife.

His muse.

But there’s a pause in the lilting cadence of your step.

Where you’ve stopped to grab for the fallen handkerchief that slipped from his belt.

And the panic flooding his breast moves him against all hope.

And he turns.

And you reach for him.

Before disappearing for the final time.

With forgiveness swimming in your eyes.

Part II: Pilgrim, Stranger, Wanderer

He’s called Doran in this lifetime.

A name you learn upon ducking into the blacksmith’s workshop with another man’s name on your lips.

“Callum!” You call, greeted instead by a shock of white hair where blonde should be.

Round brown eyes where you expected green.

“Apologies,” you offer, “I am looking for the smith.”

“Callum was called away to his family in the north country.”

His answering voice like honey just starting to crystalize.

“I’m called Doran,” he bends his head in customary greeting.

And you note the broad spread of his hand against his chest.

“I apprenticed under Callum, in what feels like a lifetime ago now, I admit.” He offers a small smirk. “He asked that I mind the forge in his absence.”

And you give him your name but not your full belief in this story.

“May I help you with something, dove?”

You straighten against the rake of his eyes. “My horse requires particular shoes. She is of a larger breed and nothing standard will suit.”

And you turn your back to him leading the way outside.

Doran whistles low at the sight of your mare, a sturdy Friesian glossed blue in the morning sun.

“She is a stunning creature,” he purrs, gently taking his fingers over her strong neck.

Pausing to thumb the iris stamped into the leather of her bridle.

“She’s no delicate thing,” you watch as he circles the horse. “Her grandsire was a draft who pulled the High King’s carriage.”

He fits one massive hoof between his knees, gently brushing away the feathers at her ankle before she starts fighting his touch.

He adjusts her gently, inspecting her irons before she protests in earnest.

“It’s apparent,” he says, quickly dropping the horse’s foot and jumping aside before she stamps and shakes her head, “that her blood runs hot.”

“She does not favor the touch of men,” you answer, soothing a hand over her hindquarters. “I should have forewarned you.”

“A fair lady is entitled to her opinions when she is that beautiful,” Doran gives her a wide berth.

And takes his eyes over you instead.

“You are the nobleman’s daughter.” He squints against the sun. “The warrior?”

“I am.”

“Now,” he pulls a rag from his pocket and rubs at his hands, “I know well the dangers of feminine beauty but a warrioress is altogether new to me. You are not riding into battle soon, I pray?”

“One in my position exists in a constant state of preparation. But there is no rumble of battle on the horizon.”

His smirk dimples one cheek now.

“I shall have the shoes for your láir within the week. And I shall pray you need not fly away before then, little dove.”

“May I make half the payment now for your services? This was the custom with the old smith.”

“The only payment for my services I can insist upon is merely the chance to sit in your presence a moment longer. Would a fair lady allow a humble blacksmith that much?”

And you see straight through him. Through to the tools on the wall.

But the broad set of his shoulders under ash-smudged linen. The way he moves, lithe and light on his feet as he dances between his stock of iron bars and his cache of hammers. The bright wideness of his eyes that betray sincerity or something of its kin.

A humble one no. But this one, perhaps.

You drop a pouch of coins onto his anvil. “Where?”

“Meet me here. In the morrow?”

And you tell him “maybe” in the moment as you climb into your saddle.

But you arrive on foot the next morning.

_____

You meet him three mornings in the week it takes him to forge your mare’s irons.

On the first day he tells you of his travels through Spain and France. Of scrambling up the masts of the ship that brought him to your shore.

On the third, he recites The Bard’s work with such nuance that you’re not entirely sure he isn’t the man himself.

On the fifth day he leads you out to the ruins of an old monastery, up a winding staircase until you’re forced to stand so close on the crumbling parapet that you can feel the heat of him at your back.

Your head spins from something other than the height.

On the seventh day he places four horseshoes, lovingly wrapped in burlap and bound with hemp cord, into the hand he has cradled in his own.

Warm and worn.

“Can I see you again?” He murmurs, barely a foot between you.

“Is that wise?”

“I have been mistaken for many things, little dove.” He brushes two knuckles over your cheekbone. “Nary a man has included wise among them.”

And you scoff but press into his touch all the same.

“Forgive me my boldness,” he takes his fingers under your chin, “but I must pose the question.”

“Your mare does not favor the touch of men.”

“But,” he purrs, “do you?”

And your lips form the word “goodnight” but you don’t dare move.

Your eyes flash with a want that does not go neglected.

“Must you take your leave?” He thumbs your bottom lip.

“I must.”

“But what of my payment,” he hums.

“As I recall you beseeched me pay with my time,” you tilt your head, reveling in the brush of warm breath against your skin, “I dare say I’ve tendered more than my share.”

“And yet I am in debt every time you take your presence from me,” he smirks. “There is something of you, little dove, that I fear has a hold on—”

You steal the words from his lips with your own.

And the unabashed delight dancing over his features when you part makes you kiss him again.

You fling your arm to rest the irons on the first surface you can find, desperate to wind your hands in his hair as his fit to your waist.

He urges your mouth open with the soft slip of his tongue. Humming when you let him inside.

“Little bird,” he pants when he tears his lips from you, forehead thumping hard against yours. “I confess if you stay past this moment I shall not be able to exercise any measure of restraint.”

“Is restraint what you desire?” You angle heavy-lidded eyes up at him.

“Not in the slightest,” he swallows hard, fist still gripping at your hair. “But you are a gentle lady with a good name, and I—”

“I want you, Doran,” you murmur. “This.”

And his head falls back on his shoulders with a tight, pained hiss.

“I confess I have given in to the fantasy of hearing that fall from this lush mouth many nights since first we met.”

And he expects heat to rise to your cheeks at his admission. But the hand that cradles your neck finds no such warmth.

“Do you know how it works?” He hums low, running his palm down your sleeve to lace thick fingers with yours. “Pleasure?” He brings your knuckles to his lips, eyes glinting in hearthlight.

And there is sincerity evident in his gaze.

For you are a gentle lady with a good name.

“Mmm, have you felt this?” He takes your hand, gliding it over the rough wool of his trousers.

To the hard line of his length underneath them.

Your breath skips.

You are no stranger to amusement of the flesh. But never before have you felt so—much.

“Feel me, birdie,” he hums, rolling his forehead against yours, “what you do to me. I fear there isn’t any blood left for the rest of me.” He kisses you again. “Only for you. This. Just for you.”

“Your bed, Doran,” you murmur against his mouth.

The hand over yours encircles your wrist and he leads you through to his chambers.

He pulls you tight to his body again, mouths locked as his hands roam your form, unable to settle upon what features his fingers must traverse first.

You push the braces from his shoulders and he helps you with the buttons of his shirt, your hands skating up the smooth expanse of tanned skin before tugging at your own shirttails.

Your lips find his neck as he unbuttons his trousers. You’ve already stepped out of yours.

“So eager, birdie,” he wraps you in his arms, and your skin burns with his touch. “Surely you’ve seen it with beasts, yes?” He salts your neck with kisses. “It’s quick with them, you see. It doesn’t have to be. Doesn’t have to—”

A moan cuts off his babbling from where you’ve taken him in hand.

“Although I may yet need to beg your forgiveness,” his hips buck into your hand, “my stamina may yet waiver, upon this first time.”

His tongue slips into your mouth again and finally he finds himself enough to back you up until your thighs meet his bed.

“It’s been so long. So long, birdie, since I have held a woman.” He leans you back with his body as your hands fly to his hair. “Longer still since I have held one as soft. Supple and pliant as you.” His lips map your collarbone, nose skimming the valley of your breasts as he takes one in hand.

“Never before is a long time indeed.”

He sucks at tender, pebbled skin, drawing an arch in your spine as he shifts to settle between your legs.

“I give you my word that I will indeed take my time with you but I offer a preemptive apology in the instance that I fail upon this first time.” His fingers slip down to toy with your folds, groaning against your ribs at the wetness that he finds there. “Perhaps we are no different than animals indeed.”

You hear only half of his babbling.

The static of anticipation under your skin crackles in your ears as your hips tip into his hand. His thumb slides over your clit and you cry out.

“You see, sometimes a man just needs to bury himself deep.”

He slings your legs over his hips and sits up on his knees, stroking his length with your borrowed wetness as your hands find his thighs.

There’s a dark edge to his voice now. Heavy-lidded eyes locked on the core of you.

“This need. It’s far stronger than I ever will be.”

“Now, Doran, I need—”

He doesn’t make you wait.

And he keeps his word in the moments it matters. Slowly rocking his hips to stretch you open on his cock before your body begs him deeper.

Large palms settle around your waist as he builds in pace, alternating slow with fast. Tenderness with force that drives the bedframe to knock against the wall. When his thumb winds circles against your clit you cry into the night as pleasure rips through you. Greedy lips crash against yours as his weight blankets your reeling form. Fevered moans in his chest thrum through you as he savors the way your walls pulse around him.

He buries his face against your neck and you feel the bite of his teeth as he snarls, drawing closer and closer to the edge.

He cants his hips just so at the last minute, pulling himself from your heat a moment before his seed streams hot over your thigh.

You soothe a hand over the nape of his neck as his hips spasm with the last of it, wide hand cradling your jaw and tipping your face to his.

Kisses softer now.

Grateful.

“You are a rare bird indeed,” he murmurs against your ear, lips ghosting over your neck.

He finds himself enough to rise from bed and kneel on the floor, searching for his handkerchief amongst the tangle of his clothes.

Yours peeks from the pocket of your trousers, red against brown wool, and you lazily twirl a corner of it around your finger and draw it out.

Doran catches it from your hand, gently cleaning your thigh of his spend before pressing a kiss there.

“I shall return this to you clean,” he holds it up briefly before craning to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t trouble a hair on your head with moving, birdie,” he bids you before disappearing to the kitchen.

You trouble the hair on your head all the same as you pull the jostled pins from it, tousling it out of the style your nurse had so meticulously placed it in this morning.

Doran returns with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them as you prop yourself up on your side and he settles on the floor. One arm slung up on the mattress.

Adoration in his eyes as he tips his glass against yours.

“You didn’t tell me this was not your first time. Although I do find it rather a pleasant surprise,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your waist with lust-hazed eyes.

“I could scarcely utter a word amidst your chatter,” you tease with a grin as you take another sip of your whiskey.

His smile dimples his cheek.

“Are you—”

For once he hesitates to speak.

“Are you promised to anyone?”

You catch his hand and bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his palm before he thumbs your cheekbone.

“None but myself. And my duty.”

He hums in acknowledgment.

You finger the white patch at his hairline, twirling a clinging curl.

“Angered a horse as a child and she made it known with her hooves,” he offers. “Frightened the color from that spot, I’m afraid.”

“There’s character in it. I’m quite fond.”

He turns in and rests his chin on the bed, hand back to trailing over your curves.

“Dove?”

And you frown at the nickname.

“I am nothing so delicate, Doran.”

“A shrike then, perhaps,” he smirks, knuckles ghosting over your stomach.

And something about it makes your heart preen.

“Has a man ever,” his fingers dip lower over your abdomen, “put his mouth on you?”

It sends a fresh jolt of pleasure racing up your spine. You turn onto your back without thought, basking in his touch as fingers trail over your mound.

“Right here?” The pads of his middle and ring fingers wind softly against your clit.

“No,” you gasp.

“Then may I have the pleasure of being the first?”

And he is the first in a way that has you wishing for him to be the last.

The only.

_____

Your handmaid was sympathetic to your cause, having been driven from her own house for true love. They share a small cottage on your father’s land now.

Your mother, though she did not know the intricacies of your continued dalliances with the blacksmith, knew the shift in your demeanor was a man’s doing. And she always was a soft touch for love.

Your father.

Was your mother’s concern.

And so your nurse covers your footsteps with a tickle in her throat that needs clearing.

Ushers you back into your chambers before morning light with a knowing smile.

“I always thought you would make a pass for the stable hand,” she confesses one day as she pours heated water over your hair. “The blacksmith is a surprise.”

“An unpleasant one?”

“Not in the slightest. He’s handsome.”

You can tell there is more to the sentiment.

“Yes, and?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Rakish.”

“Perhaps rakish is what I need,” as you rub water from your eyes.

“No lady with sense needs rakish, my darling girl,” she chides as she rubs soap at your scalp. “But a lady with sense should indulge in it from time to time.”

This draws a smile across your lips.

“He treats you well?”

“He treats me to pleasure the likes of which I have never known. If I offer this kingdom the breath in my breast every time I leave its gates, the least I may be permitted is the choice of a lover.”

And so she fixes you bitter tea every morning that you return from your rakish man.

_____

The pair of you take to late night meetings at the old groundskeeper’s shack on your parents’ land.

Where the splashing of the brook over rocks and the churn of the water wheel stifle the way he makes you cry out in pleasure.

And for one so verbose, he does excel at discretion. Raking ashes from the forge through the patch of white in his hair. Bending shadows around himself as he slips from town and into the forest at the edge of the estate.

The pair of you carry on for months. Until summer sun yields to the darkening blanket of fall.

A welcome change that lengthens your stolen hours.

“I’d wager that we were lovers in lives past,” he muses one night, lips pressing kisses against a scar on your shoulder. “You know me, little bird. The very depths of me.”

“Perhaps,” you roll over in a luxuriant stretch, “you are easy to know.”

“The Townsfolk would perhaps beg to differ, my darling.” He rests his hand on your cheek as you curl into him.

“Must you go in the morrow?” He asks softly.

“I’m afraid I must. For it is my duty. To ensure the safety—”

“—of the kingdom,” you both finish.

“In that case, I have made you a gift.” He reaches over your form down to the pocket of his cloak, and produces a small canvas pouch.

He sits up with you, pulling your back to his chest, arms around your middle as he watches you.

A small silver disk threaded on a chain falls into your palm. An iris stamped into the pendant.

“Doran, it’s beautiful. You made this?”

“It is perhaps more crude than a silversmith’s work,” he helps you fasten it around your neck, “but I wanted you to have something to remember my touch in the absence of it.”

You turn towards him such that he can see you in the firelight. Ash on your jaw from where you held him to your neck, perched atop his hips while he ground deep.

Silver pendant hanging just above the valley of your breasts.

“Beautiful,” he smiles, pressing a kiss against your lips, thumbing at the smudge on your chin. “I have always thought there to be something undeniably sensual in the furl of iris petals,” he rumbles, “how fitting for them to be your favorite.”

“Your imagination is swift, Doran.”

“You have not beheld what I have, dearheart,” he pulls you down against the bed linens once more.

Holding you against his heart.

And he is quiet for a long while, fingers running softly over your stomach, nose buried in your hair.

“What of my safety?” He asks.

A plea to keep you here.

“What shall I do?”

“I have no doubt you will find another iris that unfurls for you in the meanwhile,” you hum. Eyes slipping closed.

“There is only one, my love. I shall wait for your return.”

_____

A grand crowd lines the streets as you and the men of your battalion ride towards the village gates the next morning. Full of cheers and blessings.

And you offer the customary wave and nod.

But your heart hammers against chainmail.

Eyes darting through the crowd.

Willing a shock a white to appear.

And as you near the gates he greets you.

Warm brown eyes and a grin of pride. He rushes to push through the crowd as you approach on your mare, eyes never leaving each other.

You slip one foot from your stirrup and he jams one of his into it and stands, briefly.

Long enough to cup the base of your skull and lay a parting kiss against your lips.

You hurriedly pull your red handkerchief from behind your breastplate, pressing it into his palm as he drops away.

Crushing the cloth to his heart as you slip through the gates.

And it will yield the ire of your father and the warm, joyous tears of your mother.

But they matter not.

For you do not return home under your own power.

You return home under a shroud.

Your nurse slips into the night, treading your path with your necklace in hand.

“She was found with her hand over her heart. And this underneath it.”

And the blacksmith.

Wrought with grief.

Is never seen again.

Part III: The Helper. The Protector.

He’s called Ezra in this lifetime.

Brought to this bar by a group of associates keen on celebrating his win in federal court this afternoon.

And he knows it’s an excuse to drink on the firm’s dime.

He was an associate once too.

But they helped draft the brief that saved their client $44 million. A few drinks is a small thanks.

Ezra sticks to the corners, entertaining chatter only when approached. Kindly redirecting the advances of a first year who’s too young to realize flirting with a partner is career suicide.

He’s content tonight to sip his bourbon and observe.

“Okay, but I told you that Bismark case was horseshit and the judge was going to see that!” One associate who is two drinks too deep roars.

“That was so fucking risky, I still can’t believe you put so much weight on that,” another chides.

“Fucking WORKED though!” And the first man spreads his arms wide.

Knocking you into the sip of red wine you were about to take from your seat at the bar.

“Jesus, fuckin’—” you start before taking a deep breath and glancing down at the patch of deep burgundy beginning to spread on your white blouse.

Fuck.

“Boys, boys, this lovely lady didn’t consent to hearing your opinions on bullshit 4th Circuit rulings, okay?” Ezra appears, stretching an arm between you and the men. “Let’s be a little more careful, take it to a booth, yeah?”

“Miss, I apologize on their behalf,” he starts and you take another centering breath because you really are not here for some hotshot lawyer’s apologies. This is your spot, and they’re fucking with your Thursday night nightcap.

But the brown eyes you’re met with are wide and sincere.

And something at the very core of you thrums momentarily with something you can’t name.

“Please, allow me to replace your wine and cover your tab for the night.” He’s already calling the barman over before you can assure him that’s really not necessary because they’ve fucked up your night already and you just want to go home.

“Could you please arrange a fresh glass of wine for this lovely lady, place her tab on the card I gave you, and may I have a shot glass of white wine. I need the white wine as quickly as you can, please. Thanks very much.”

And you’re still staring at those brown eyes.

Bristling and dumbstruck at the same time.

“Ezra,” he holds out a hand in belated introduction, and you offer a firm shake and your name in exchange.

“Sorry, a shot glass of white wine?” You quip as the bartender places it in front of Ezra.

He slips a red pocket square from his jacket and dips a corner into the shot glass.

“Apologies, may I?”

And inexplicably you turn in towards him on your bar stool as he dabs at the stain on your shirt.

Just over your heart.

“White wine will keep the stain from setting,” he proffers.

You crane your neck to the side, trying to settle your focus on cut glass bottles and not the stranger tending to the fine layer of cotton just above your left breast.

He’s gentle though. Respectful in a way you perhaps didn’t anticipate.

He smells of hinoki wood and worn leather.

“Right as rain,” he announces and takes half a step back before offering you the handkerchief. “If you want to hold that there to blot some of the excess.”

“Um, yeah, thank you. Thanks,” you hold the cloth over your heart as the bartender returns with your fresh glass of wine.

Ezra settles on the barstool next to you.

“How…did you know that?”

“About the wine?” He swallows a sip of bourbon. “Must’ve read it at some point and it just stuck.”

“Seems you’re a good man to have around in a crisis then,” you smile and tip your glass in his direction. He gently touches the side of his against it, before tapping the heavy base against the bar and taking another sip.

Everything he does is briefly fascinating.

“I apologize again for these kids,” he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a business card which he slides over to you face-down. “You should be all good with that,” he gestures at the handkerchief, “but I insist on you sending me the dry cleaning bill. If I’ve recalled incorrectly and it does stain, I will procure a replacement for you, you have my word.”

“That’s really not necessary,” you start and yet find yourself unable to stop, “and I’m not even sure it’s possible this is vintage—”

“Alexander McQueen, I know.”

You turn all the way towards him on your barstool now.

And his eyes glitter with your fascination as he runs his hand through the patch of white at his hairline.

“What are you reading,” he tips his head to the side as if to glimpse the cover of your book but he doesn’t break your gaze. Cheek dimpled with a half smile.

“Ovid. Metamorphoses.”

“For fun?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice but it’s far from belittling.

“It’s…” you start before a smile splits your face, “yeah. For fun.”

And he echoes your grin.

“I re-read it for fun last year. I think the passage about Orpheus’ death is my favorite.”

“Fascinating,” you swallow a sip of your tempranillo. “Why that one?”

“Well, I believe it’s a commentary on both the unbridled rage of passion and a testament to the obstinate nature of true love.”

“Obstinate?” You incline your head incredulously. “That’s quite a choice.”

“And yet it holds true, does it not? Orpheus, arguably one of the most talented figures in Greek mythology,” and he’s gesturing broadly now, “able to enchant the very souls of feral beasts and move trees to bend their limbs just to be nearer his music.”

He jabs his finger into the bartop between you, “he moved Hades, both the realm and the deity himself, let’s not forget, correct?”

And you nod, amusement playing across your features.

“The earth and the underworld fell at his feet. And he shunned it all out of love for Eurydice.”

“And so what moral value do you place on obstinacy?” You ask.

“Obstinacy in love is the only way to experience it. To feel it so completely that you forsake everything else. Defy the world. For love. Fidelity to the wife that you betrayed by turning back.” Brown eyes are wide with his conviction.

He adds, “even Shakespeare said let it be virtuous to be obstinate.”

“Okay, in a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT context!” Your turn to erupt now, with arms thrown in the air where you’re met by his wide smile. “You cannot cherry pick that out of Coriolanus choosing to abandon his family out of sheer stubbornness, and frankly, contempt for his own people, to extol the virtues of love! Let it be virtuous to FORSAKE that love, is the whole point of that line.”

And this is the moment.

That Ezra falls in love.

And you’re not far behind.

Time slips from this point on. Patrons file in and out. More wine and whiskey is poured. Associates drunkenly clap him on the back as they make their way home, but none of it registers.

The world spins around the pair of you.

Until finally the bartender insists that he close his tab.

And you both step out onto a city street wet with the aftermath of a brief summer downpour.

“Thank you,” Ezra starts, “for the absolute pleasure of your company.”

He holds a tentative hand out, which you shake with a heartfelt “likewise.”

“Oh, your handkerchief,” you pull it from your pocket and hold it out to him.

“Keep it.” He smiles.

And you both spin on your heels. Proceeding in opposite directions.

But the warp and weft of the red cotton square that you keep rubbing between your fingers forces you to stop in your tracks.

You turn around.

And look back.

Meeting Ezra’s gaze from where he hasn’t moved a step.

He thumbs the corner of his lips, brown eyes locked on yours.

And you both move.

Urgent steps pulled by Fates’ string.

Colliding as you throw your arms around his neck and he locks you against him with biceps around your ribs.

Lips crashing together with the relief of a thousand lifetimes.

Lifetimes that you’ve known each other.

Lifetimes that you’ve lost each other.

And this lifetime. Having found each other again.

Taglist of folks who may be interested, as always, please do let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged, or if you'd like to be added!

@morallyinept @iamskyereads @tinytinymenace @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot

@oliveksmoked @nerdieforpedro @julesonrecord

Subpart headings are the meaning of Ezra's name in that section.

Orpheus' monologue included herein in italics is quoted from David Raeburn's 2004 translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, published by Penguin Classics. The text of this translation just felt so Ezra that I had to include it in that form. If you'd like to hear it read by Hozier himself, head on over to his instagram circa summer 2020's Poetry Fridays for this and some other wonderful work.

This story references the version of Eurydice's death as precipitated by Aristaeus.

Láir means mare in Irish Gaelic.

"Let it be virtuous to be obstinate" is quoted from Coriolanus by William Shakespeare.

#prospect ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #hozier drabble challenge #ohforficsake #talk refined

69 notes · View notes

spliffymae · 1 year

Text

exboyfriend!geto…

synopsis: you were stuck with suguru geto. he was the father of your kids, earning him a lifetime supply of make-up attempts. you hated him, but you were determined to make it work for your kids.

⚠️established relationship, afabreader, toxic geto, reader got two kids by him (idc i love a good parent plot), toxic relationship, smut, cheating, geto has a daddy kink, oral (f receiving) geto is a munchhh, breeding kink too, mentions of baby trapping

kio’s notes - toxic tropes are so good that it should be bad.

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

exboyfriend!geto, who is also your babies father, sharing five-year-old sky and two-year-old apollo with you. two boys he loved to death.

exboyfriend!geto who you broke up with shortly after apollo’s first birthday. you weren’t fulfilled with him in your life. you were a housewife on a girlfriend status. kept at home as a stay-at-home mom, and geto wasn’t satisfying you emotionally.

exboyfriend!geto who at first, didn’t take your breakup seriously. he expected to be out of the house for a week, tops. but you didn’t budge. he didn’t realize how serious you were until day ten.

exboyfriend!geto who kept his distance at first, giving you the space you needed, but as time went on slowly became shocked at how committed you were to no longer be with him.

exboyfriend!geto who bribes sky with treats to tell him whether or not mommy has had any guy friends other than uncle kuna or uncle gojo at the apartment. but all he reports back is “mommy says the only boys she needs are lolo and me.”

exboyfriend!geto who has a key to your apartment despite no longer living there. he pops in whenever and never gives you a heads up, because he never stopped associating your place as home.

exboyfriend!geto who only lets you know his eta when the boys’ bedtime is approaching.

“i’m ten minutes away. do not put them to sleep without me” he spoke to you over the phone as he drove. he was just coming from a meeting with his bosses.

exboyfriend!geto cannot stand you now. he hated the way you managed to look ten times more beautiful now that you were a single woman. he hated how you got your lashes and nails done. you were dressed in a red silk robe, your face bare and glowing form you doing your nightly skin routine. your shoulder length locs were out and free. only thing on your face was clear, thick framed glasses and some lip balm.

“okay daddy’s here, now you two get to bed.” you spoke from the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea. the boys were sitting on the living room couch, watching bear in the big blue house. they were bathed and dressed in pokémon onesies, gifted to them by gojo on a random saturday.

the boys cheered as geto came over to them, scooping them up in his arms and giving them loads of kisses. he asked about their day, and listened to sky tell him about a bird he saw outside at recess.

exboyfriend!geto looks at you with a glare as you walk past him without so much as a greeting to go to the couch, typing away on your phone. it was you silently letting him know you won’t be with him to put the boys to bed.

exboyfriend!geto who swallows down the millions of ways he could pick an argument with you and smiles at his two boys, instructing them to go give you a goodnight kiss and hug.

exboyfriend!geto who reads his kids two stories every night, a book each of them choose. he ticks them into bed and gives them a kiss, telling how much he loves them. he gets a little sad when he puts his kids to sleep, knowing he won’t get to wake up to them.

exboyfriend!geto comes out their room after setting up their night light/white noise machine to find you now in the kitchen, washing your tea mug. he makes his way to you, hoping to work some of his charm on you, but you turn him down.

exboyfriend!geto who gave up trying to get you back after a month of rejection and gets a new girlfriend named kimmy. she’s younger than you by a year, twenty-six, and she’s a giggly, bubbly personality.

exboyfriend!geto who can’t help but smirk at the way you pushed your lips to the side in annoyance when he walks through the school’s gym with kimmy on his arm. he brought her to sky’s afternoon music recital. they had been dating for three months, and he was ready to introduce her to you all.

exboyfriend!geto who, despite getting a reaction from you, is still not satisfied in your response. because although you were annoyed his girlfriend was present, you told him it was okay to bring her. you expressed how happy you were for him to move on.

exboyfriend!geto watches as you shake kimmy’s hand, a tight smile on your lips as you looked past him to speak to her. apollo was on your hip, snoozing away. the concert hadn’t started yet, so parents were just mingling in the gym.

exboyfriend!geto watches the way you record sky’s performance, apollo still sleeping on your shoulder, but you still stand to cheer sky on. you came from work—a secretary position at gojo’s law firm. you were dressed in a long white dress with a green blazer over it and matching green heels. you were practically glowing.

exboyfriend!geto who joins you in cheering sky when he comes off the stage. you bend down so you can give him a hug, your hands were now child free since apollo woke up toward the end of the performance and wanted to be held by his dad.

exboyfriend!geto who doesn’t focus on introducing kimmy to the kids, because he can’t get over how fine (both physically and emotionally) you are.

exboyfriend!geto who is now six months into his relationship with kimmy, but still finding himself pining after you. he would show up every night to try and annoy his way back into your heart, but you never gave him an opening. you kept your guard up.

exboyfriend!geto who is really starting to get annoyed that you haven’t moved on to someone else. are you messing with him? he asks gojo to try and figure out what your angle is, but gojo just responds with “that’s the thing, she has no angle. she’s just focusing on herself and the boys.”

exboyfriend!geto who starts to feel…depressed that you’re not his girlfriend anymore. he starts to think about his faults in the relationship, his flaws and what he could have changed. he looks at kimmy and thinks if you, wondering what you were doing. he even finds himself journaling about it.

exboyfriend!geto who successfully co-parents with you, because he figures peace and cordiality was what was best for your relationship. if you weren’t going to be his girlfriend, then at least you could be his friend. that way he could keep you in his life on good terms.

exboyfriend!geto who is almost at the ten month mark in his relationship with kimmy. the boys have taken somewhat of a liking to her. you don’t talk about her privately and have let them develop their own relationships with her. geto hated you for it.

exboyfriend!geto who for the first time ever, thinks you will kill him when he sits in the hospital room with a sleeping sky, who has a cast on his right arm. the two of them were outside racing on bikes and sky went down a hill. he couldn’t keep up with the speed and fell off the bike before geto could catch up to him. the doctor said it was a clean break, and that there will be no long lasting effects, but sky did have to undergo surgery, and it was something that scared geto.

exboyfriend!geto who falls to his knees and apologizes to you with tears in his eyes when you walk into the hospital room with apollo in a stroller. geto had already left you three hefty voice messages regarding the incident, so you were up to speed as far as updates go.

“baby m’sorry. fuck, he just got away from me and i wasn’t running fast enough to catch him.” he was feeling guilty, and he gripped onto your waist as he continued to cry into your stomach. he kept apologizing, even after you told him it was okay.

exboyfriend!geto who refuses to leave sky’s side, staying at your apartment and texting kimmy to let her know he would not be seeing her the next couple of days because of it. she protested, but he paid her no mind. after all, who was she to state her opinion on what he was doing for his son?

“you can go home, he’s okay.” you said to him when he sat on the couch next to you. he had just finished tucking the boys in. “go rest and come back tomorrow morning.” you smiled warmly. originally, you had planned to be cold to him. to make him feel terrible for getting your baby boy hurt. but you knew how parent guilt was already eating him up.

he doesn’t listen to you. instead he just slumps back and puts his hand over his face. you roll your eyes but let him have his moment, “m’gonna go wind down. let yourself out and i’ll see you tomorrow morning, g’night.” you patted his shoulder before walking away to your room.

he didn’t move from his spot. not when you left the area, or when he heard you turn the water on in your en-suite bathroom. he planned to sleep on your couch, honestly. but that didn’t go as planned since you came out now in your red robe and black bonnet over your head.

“nuh uh, geto get your ass up and go. i need to get ready for bed and you gotta be anywhere but here.” you pulled his arm to try and get him up, but he wasn’t budging. “suguru move your ass.” you groaned, you were tired from the day’s events and just wanted to sleep .

exboyfriend!geto uses his strength to pull you to fall onto his lap, still keeping his head against the back of your couch and looking to the ceiling. you put your knee up and in between his legs to avoid from sitting on his lap.

“m’really sorry about sky.” he whispered as his hand rubbed your hip, the soft and thin material of your robe moving up with his motions. “can’t imagine how scared you must’ve been.”

you shook your head, “it’s fine, suguru. accidents happen. but you guys are okay so—oh.” your sentence is cut off when geto grabs the back of your thigh and pulls it to stretch over his own, moving the other one after so that you would now be sitting on his lap.

“didn’t mean to upset you.” he put his hands right on the globes of your ass, the robe leaving nothing to the imagination as he felt how warm and soft you were through the fabric. he rubbed his hands over them, kneading your flesh.

“s’okay. i’m better now. sky’s home and he’s good. you don’t have to feel like this anymore.” you tried your best to be as cool and comforting as possible, despite the massage you are getting on your ass. you hadn’t been touched like this in some time, and were biting your lip to hold back the whines of pleasure.

exboyfriend!geto who mumbled that he ‘needs to feel something else’ and picks you up to put you on your back, resting inbetween your legs.

“g-geto.” you tried to be the voice of reason, but geto shut you up with a kiss. one that was primal and filled with his groans. your lips were as he remembered, soft and full, mixed hues of brown and pink he still loved to nip at. and your tongue seemed to remember to yield to him, allowing him to control the kiss.

exboyfriend!geto who knows you weren’t wearing anything underneath your robe. you had planned to come out after your shower and kick him out, however, because he could feel your pussy’s warmth against his thigh, he wasn’t going anywhere.

exboyfriend!geto who stops kissing your jaw to ask you when the last time you got eaten out was. the vulgarity of his question shocks you. your robe was loosely tied, now revealing your breasts. your brown nipples got hit with the apartments a.c and hardened, perky buds calling out to geto. his fingers were cold, and he used the tip of his index to touch your nipple, the sensation getting you to buck your hips, grinding your clit on his thigh.

“ah—.” it was a moan that slipped out. you had your hands over your mouth instinctively, but it got out before you could stop it. geto smiled.

exboyfriend!geto who has failed so many times before, but now that he finally has you back under him, is going to milk this so you never forget this moment. “let me in, mommy please. i been missing you so much. s’been so hard without you.” he begs and grabs your hand from off your mouth to put it to his erection,that was so prominent despite being covered by boxers and sweats.

he squeezes your hand around him, hissing and thrusting into your palm. “y’know just how to cheer daddy up, yeah? what’ll make me feel all better after today?”

exboyfriend!geto who gives you one last kiss before moving down to kiss your chest. one hand of his squeezes your left breast, his palm rubbing against your nipple to hear the faint breaths you took. his mouth went to the right, initially biting your nipple to her you scream.

“careful mommy,” he taunts you. “don’t wake the boys up.”

exboyfriend!geto is a boobs and ass man. he loves both, especially yours. if you couldn’t tell by the way your chest glistened with his spit, then clearly you could tell by the countless of purplish hickies and bite marks that adorned your brown mounds. you could’ve came from his mouth on your titties alone and he knew that but he wanted your first time to be in his mouth.

exboyfriend!geto feels your fingers slide through his hair and create a bun, tying his long hair with itself as he sucks your clit into his mouth. one hand of yours still holds tight to his head, digging into his scalp when you feel him ever so slightly bite into your bundle of nerves.

your arm is over your mouth, moaning into your limb to surpress the volume. geto was spelling his name out with his tongue against your heat, moaning at your taste. it had been too long since he last had your scent on him, since he drowned himself in your wetness. he missed you, he missed your body. he missed his pussy.

exboyfriend!geto who remembers just how long you thought his fingers were. you loved moments like this, where he would shove two into your wet hole and stretch you out to prepare for his cock. the sounds your pussy would make as he thrusted his fingers inside her, it was beautiful.

exboyfriend!geto smiles in your pussy when he feels your thighs squeeze around his head. he imagines you suffocating him, and he loved every second of the fantasy. he’s gotta get you to sit on his face next time.

exboyfriend!geto who ruts his hips against the couch cushions as he eats you out through your first orgasm. your body jolted with every flick his tongue made against your clit, but he didn’t let up. he was getting enough friction to have him moaning.

“so good to me, baby. you know just what to do to make daddy alright.” he spoke to your cunt, his finger rubbing slow circles on your clit. you were clenching around nothing, and he smiled as he sucked hickies into your inner thighs.

exboyfriend!geto who is now eating you out for his own pleasure. you were overstimulated and begging him to ease up, but he locked himself between your legs and brought you to two more orgasms. by the time his face came back to yours, the lower half smelt of your juices and he was licking the drips off his chin.

exboyfriend!geto who let’s you give him the most nastiest kiss you can muster. your lips smack, spit spills from the corner of his lips and you suck his tongue to taste yourself off him. he had never experienced you this needy before. his dick was throbbing.

exboyfriend!geto who folds you into a mating press with your knees against your shoulders. he didn’t put the tip in yet, he couldn’t. not when you we’re screwing your eyes shut.

exboyfriend!geto, who was big on eye contact, and forced you to look him in the eyes as he buried himself in you. he pushed your legs back, hands on the back of your thighs as his upper body pressed against yours. his forehead rested against yours, eyes on you and mumbling for yours to do the same.

“right here, pretty. just keep ‘em on me.” he encouraged you as he pushed in. it was snug, and he groaned from the back of his throat. his eyes didn’t close though, they stayed watching the way your head turned up and lips parted, you let out struggling breath, feeling full of him already.but you kept your eyes on him, his intense gaze driving you insane.

exboyfriend!geto who fucks you within an inch of your life on that goddamn couch. his thrusts are deep and sensual. he preferred the fast and rough ways of sex, but this called for more passion, more intimacy.

exboyfriend!geto who gets dumb off your pussy and starts to make promises you know he won’t keep.

“fuck, promise i’m gonna treat you so much better this time, baby.”

“get that house you always wanted us to have, fuck you in every room in it.”

“m’gonna make ya my fuckin’ wife. my pretty little wife.”

just empty promises you shooed off, hoping to just get your nut and leave.

exboyfriend!geto who tells you to cum together, and he’s a moaning mess in the crook of your neck, squeezing your breast as he rides out the intense climax. he hadn’t cum like that since the last time you two had sex.

exboyfriend!geto who gives you a moment of rest, giving you the impression he was finished and just needed to catch his breath before going home.

exboyfriend!geto who pushes himself from off you with a smirk. you were exhausted, you were positive you looked ike it. but geto just grabbed your wrist to pull you up, and positioned you to hang over the couch. your knees were on the seat, spread out with your back in an arch.

“geto!” you tried to object, but a swift swat to your ass cheek got you to whine instead.

exboyfriend!geto who thinks it’s almost criminal the way your body responds to him. every touch, every kiss, every slap he gave was received with a moan or whimper, whether it be to your ass, face, or even pussy. when he pushes himself into you, you grip the couch and hold back an exhausted moan.

exboyfriend!geto who grabs your jaw and pulls you back into the most perfect arch as he thrusts himself into you. his movements are sharp, their precise, and he bucks his hips just at the right angle to make you see stars. he can feel the drool from your mouth on his fingers, but doesn’t care.

exboyfriend!geto hears the way you slowly lose brain cells as he fucks you now, his strokes giving you no time to recover. you just babble out how good it feels with moans to follow. he lost all sensual energy. all the love he had for you was fucked out of him from the first round and what was left was the hate.

“think your pretty ass can just be done w’me, huh?!” he slaps your ass hard to get your attention but you had no strength to respond. your head is by his shoulder , he’s looking down at you in disgust and you feel your walls clench tighter. he grips your jaw open and spits inside of it, easing his hold so you can swallow it.

exboyfriend!geto pulls you back straight against him, now going at an inhumane pace as he forces you to look at your children’s room door. it was closed and their white noise machine could be heard through it, letting you know your sounds were drowned out.

“you’re fuckin’ mine.” he says as he leans against your head, kissing your temple. “them boys don’t prove it enough, huh? me making you the mother of my kids doesn’t tell you that?”

exboyfriend!geto who raises his brows when you shake your head no and tighten your hold on the couch. you were gasping for air but your body was matching his thrusts.

“uh oh, they don’t? why?” he teased you with his words and cock, drastically slowing down his thrusts to aggravate you. “s’cuz they’re growing up, hm? ya startin’ to miss having a baby around? need daddy to come back and take care of it?”

exboyfriend!geto who knows you know where he’s going with this once your eyes widen in shock and look at him with what he could only describe as fear. he doesn’t give you time to respond as he picks back up his pace from before, and hits that spot that has your toes curling and teeth biting into your bottom lip.

“geto!” you cried, “i’m sorry, baby. m’so sorry.” maybe if you apologized he would have mercy. frankly, you were too sensitive, but geto had not a care in the world. he started to rub your clit and you let out a choked sob, “why’re you…doing me like this, baby? ”

exboyfriend!geto, who tells you “because you tried to leave. you forgot that we’re a family, mommy. and tomorrow m’gonna fuck you like this again, and the day after that, we’re gonna do it again. and again, and again. either until i fuck you so dumb you let me back home, or you get my third baby fucked into that sweet womb of yours, so then you’ll have no choice but to lemme back in.”

exboyfriend!geto who puts his hand on your stomach to seal the deal, and cums deep inside you as you cream onto him. “regardless, i’m coming home tonight, baby.” he rides out the orgasm with you, muttering profanities as he watches how much of a mess you two made.

exboyfriend!geto who knows you’re too fucked out to object to him, so he carries you to your bathroom to clean you both up, praising you for how well you did for him. he makes sure you’ve peed and brushed your teeth before carrying you to bed.

exboyfriend!geto who leaves you to throw the couch’s cushion covers in the wash, and quickly wipe down and disinfect what could not be washed. you were too exhausted to do it now, and though he was tired, it made no sense to wait ‘til morning.

exboyfriend!geto who gets into bed with you, making a mental note to break up with kimmy tomorrow as you wrap yourself around him. he listens to you talk, “i’m being so serious when i say try that shit again and i’ll walk for real, geto. be glad i got kids wit’ yo ass and actually wanna be a family.”

exboyfriend!geto who gives you tender kisses all around your face, massages your waist and lets you know he has changed, promising to show you everyday from here on out.

this longer than a mf 😮‍💨

#🌞🍃spliffymae #jjk⋞〈⏣》⋟#geto suguru x black reader #geto x black reader #geto x reader #geto suguru smut #jjk geto #jjk x black reader #anime x black!reader #angst #exboyfriendgeto

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vamptizm · 4 months

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useless ⋆𐙚 — rafe cameron

SUMMARY — you finally confront rafe about your relationship and the future of it.

PAIRING — rafe cameron x reader

WORD COUNT — 773

THEME — angst. break up. slight classism i believe?

WARNINGS — one swear word.

‘cuz i’m useless,

when you’re stuck in my mind

‎ ‎

.ೃ࿐ 🪐 it wasn’t hard to read rafael cameron, that is something you were undoubtedly certain about. his tortured eyes and bruised knuckles could tell a million stories — perhaps an elegy even — for one might believe his soul to be dead, leaving behind a mortal body that remains on earth. to everyone the boy was cruel and choleric, quick to fight and easy to anger, but not to you. you saw him in more than just black and white, more than just his wealth… more than just trouble. they say that love is blind and truth be told, you never wanted to see again if it meant that your perfect picture relationship would be at the risk of coming to an end… but the universe has it’s own plans.

“say it” you spoke in a monotone voice, preserving the poker face that you wore being the only goal at that very moment. an explanation was not needed, for rafe knew exactly what you expected of him.

he was painfully aware of the situation. the differences in your ways of life, the disagreements in morals and especially the contrast in reputations. nothing about you and rafe was similar and you both knew it. yet, people love to live in ignorant bliss, it’s in their nature. they desperately attempt to change their fate and rewrite destiny, but indeed, the universe has it’s own plans as always. rafe found it hard to be seen with you, so he hid you. from the world, from his family and from his friends.

it wasn’t that he didn’t deem you worthy — you were a beautiful and seraphic being — everyone eventually learned to love you and he was no exception. you were everything he dreamed of and more, an utter blessing in his life and he never failed to tell you so. kindness, humor and elegance were in your nature, no matter the appearance or status. but unfortunately, you happened to be a pogue and no matter how perfect and charming you tried to be, at the end of the day his people would always unavoidably look down on you. and so rafe cameron had unconsciously decided that you indeed, were not worthy of it all. not the effort, not the stress, not the time and definitely not worth his last name.

“say what?” he questioned stoically as he feigned to be clueless. he was too scared to scared to let you go… too scared to break your heart.

you let out a humorless chuckle, the patience you had was running thin and all you wanted was closure. despite knowing the answer, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave first and never look back, it might have been the best thing that you could do for yourself… but you simply couldn’t just yet. “please… just say it, rafe. tell me what you’ve been dying to admit”.

the boy simply glanced at you, his muscles frozen in place and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. he had to. he couldn’t do this to you any longer. not when you looked at him like that and pleaded for his mercy. “we can’t be together”. the bomb had finally dropped and it was silent. so silent, that you could hear a needle hit the hard floor.

reality had finally began to set in, knocking the air out of your lungs and stealing your words. with pursed lips, you stood in front of him while the bridge of your nose began to painfully hurt and the hot tears started to glaze your eyes. you held your breath in hopes of disappearing at that very moment, in hopes of waking up and finding yourself in his arms. this time, you wouldn’t make the mistake of asking questions that could lead to your soul being crushed, but you remained in the same spot.

taking in a deep breath, your gaze rose from the floor and settled on his face. an ingenuine smile painted your lips as you looked into his eyes. rafe cameron wasn’t a hard person to read and in that moment, you knew that this had hurt him almost as much as it had broken you. you had built up the strength to grasp his hand in yours, holding onto it for just a little while as your thumb traced circles on his skin. “god, you’re such an asshole”, you stated in a brittle voice — yet another ingenuine chuckle escaping your lungs — and with that his hand was suddenly back to the position it had been and the only thing that remained was the sweet scent of vanilla and honey that you had left behind.

#⋆𐙚 ₊ ♡ 🌷 yuko #⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks one shot #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks

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cellarspider · 3 months

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7/?? germs.

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We return to a movie that disrespects the archaeological importance of roads, Prometheus.

I am still not over that. I will never be over that.

This time, content warnings for continuing frat boy archaeology, cringeful application of racist terms to lily-white androids, me screeching about site contamination some more, and Apollo’s dodgeball striking this movie with a glancing blow about masking.

So, back in the theater in 2012, I had already lost sympathy for the cast. They were being set up as stock horror movie characters, they were doing their jobs in a way with a certain flair for the incompetent.

And one of them, I suspect, the movie intends to make into a “flawed but you feel for him” kind of guy. Or, I hope they intended to make him “the guy in the slasher movie who you hate and want to see die”. That’s Holloway, one of the two archaeologists. He’s robot racist.

Like, seriously robot racist. The whole crew is, David literally gets referred to as “boy” here, which isn’t so much a dogwhistle as a tornado siren. No wonder David is quietly starting to show his disdain for the human crew.

“They're making you guys pretty close [to human now], huh?”

“Not too close, I hope.”

One of the few themes the movie handles halfway competently is the parallel between the humans stumbling all over themselves as they rush to go meet their makers, while David is already experiencing the disappointment of actually meeting his, and finding out they’re a bunch of clueless assholes. Are we supposed to believe the same of the Engineers? I don’t know. They definitely think of humans as lesser, though. More to come on that later.

Because right now, an expedition is barrelling toward the alien structure–again, driving all over the FCKING ALIEN ROAD–and they’re doing it with only six hours of daylight left, because Holloway literally says “It's Christmas [...] and I want to open my presents.”

I cannot communicate how heinous this character felt. The actor did a perfectly fine job playing him, but if Charlie Holloway was real, his name would be said with the same venom as that of the man pictured below: Heinrich Schliemann, the man who found the real, actual city of Troy, and immediately dynamited a trench through the royal palace, destroying who knows how many artifacts from the period the Iliad was based off of. Yes, I picked out the most assholish-looking photo of him I could find on purpose.

Also, Holloway’s an anti-masker, apparently.

I’m going to step back for just one second and list the one practical, movie budget reason why characters might take their helmets off. The costume designers did an admirable job coming up with something that fits the general requirement of a helmet in major studio releases, prior to The Mandalorian: make the actor’s faces completely visible, because without actors with a strong sense of physical presence and voice acting, you’ll lose connection with the audience.

They did a great job with that. Unfortunately, shiny helmets are a bastard to digitally edit film crew out of.

It’s not impossible to place lights and crew so that the audience won’t notice them. Alien certainly pulled it off. Clear plastic elements in helmets also mean other logistical challenges, though: fogging being the main one. This, and cooking your actors in a fishbowl under studio lights.

Both problems can be simultaneously combated by installing A/C fans within the helmets, but because these helmets are entirely clear, you’re limited to hiding them down near the neck, and anybody who’s done similar for a cosplay or suit will know that it’s potentially noisy and not always effective. You can actually see condensate on the helmets in the movie, though whether that’s from the actor’s breath or a deliberate choice, I don’t know.

All this adds up to increased time resetting actors (i.e. cleaning sweat off of them without disrupting their makeup), more exhaustion from said actors, and the worry that the highest-paid, plot-critical actors may decide they don’t want to do a sequel if the shooting experience is too physically unhealthy.

And then there’s also more time spent carefully arranging crew and lights to hide their reflections, or more time making some poor VFX artist erase a transparent, curved reflection from frame and replace it with something else, or make the actors more comfortable by adding the glass in later with CGI, at the potential loss of some realism. The average modern movie studio would choose one of these VFX-driven options and demand it done in a week, which is why VFX artists need to unionize.

So. I understand at least a few logistical reasons why you don’t tend to make actors wear helmets for too many shooting days. But it has to be balanced with the story. It has to feel believable. It has to fit the story. It has to not make your characters look like mud-witted morons.

As soon as they find liquid water and the oh-so-deadly CO2 levels start to drop, Holloway takes his helmet off.

“Don't be an idiot.”

“Don't be a skeptic.”

Flames on the side of my goddamn face.

Now, this is the moment a lot of people lost sympathy for the human characters, even back in 2012. It was a dumbass idea even then, in the pre-’rona years. Sadly, Millburn the biologist isn’t written smart enough to punch Holloway in the nuts over even thinking of doing this, because we have two problems with what Holloway’s doing here: Biology, and biology.

First, biology.

(https://www.turbosquid.com/3d-models/13-viruses-virus-3d-model/1071200)

Obviously, they don’t know if anything’s in the air. He could find out that humans are deathly allergic to alien dust mites. He could have just caught himself a case of space covid, which he and the lemmings that follow him can then transmit to the entire crew if he’s not kept in quarantine. They can sterilize the sealed suits, but they can’t sterilize the inside of his lungs. Yet.

Second, biology.

Specifically, Earth biology. Do you know how carefully modern space agencies sterilize anything that’s headed for Mars, or anywhere else that might have a biosphere of its own? A lot! They sterilize everything a lot! Because microbes are hardy little bastards. We’ve never found extraterrestrial life, only precursor molecules that show the capacity for life to develop in other places. How are you going to verify you’ve found alien life, or even those precursors, if you can’t prove that your samples are uncontaminated? What happens if microbes from Earth manage to survive the trip and establish a foothold somewhere? What if they destroy native life?

This movie’s characters treat this with only a fraction of the gravitas that the cinematography does, which is part of why this remains so jarring throughout. The practical sets, the art direction, and the camerawork are all excellent. The editing continues to do its best, though it almost feels like things were cut very tight through this to speed things along and to give more time, unfortunately, to what the characters are doing.

their crimes against my sanity are not done yet

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As a side note, rounding up some discussion from a previous entry: The most excellent artist @noordzee pointed out that the clashing artistic style of the moon and stars slapped onto the carving of Kʼinich Janaab Pakal I. In the previous post, I focused on the link between that carving and its use in ancient aliens conspiracy theories. But let's dig a bit into actual Maya iconography around celestial bodies instead.

Now, I am not an expert on Classical Maya stuff. Not in the slightest. And there is a lot of information on their art that is linguistically inaccessible to me, as a non-Spanish speaker. But out of the Maya art and writing that survived the book-burning conquistadors, we have some iconography for the moon and stars, and they don’t look like what’s in the movie.

I wasn’t able to find any specific pieces of art that contained stars, but I did find the glyph for star, ek’.

I was only able to find depictions of a crescent moon in the context of the moon goddess, where she tends to be sitting on the crescent like a chair, or one part of it is shown behind her, almost like a tail (though I can’t be certain whether that’s due to chipped paint).

The moon by itself was somewhat harder to find. I couldn’t find any Maya depictions of it with my limited poking around of the spanish internet, but I did find a (much later) Mixtec depiction of the moon, complete with a lunar rabbit! Much like East Asian cultures, the darker markings on the moon are culturally interpreted as a rabbit shape.

Thanks again to nordzee for pointing out the dissonant art style, because the real mesoamerican art on this subject is phenomenal.

Next time, the movie will hurt me more, so if anybody else has fun facts to share or details to point out. PLEASE. Ease my pain.

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Alt text citations:

None this time. Many ramblings, though.

#prometheus 2012 #prometheus (2012)#I work in a place where quite a lot of people have to put on clean room suits to go to work #their rooms are behind airlock doors #and that's just to make sure outside germs don't get in #to keep things clean #we don't even have the REALLY scary containment rooms that a few biological laboratories have #I'll ramble more about the logistics of that later #when the movie gets around to breaking laboratory safety standards as well

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