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breadbrobin · 3 months

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lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

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“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell

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comfortless · 4 months

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hades! konig and persephone! reader

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.

notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕

A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.

When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.

It should have been left at that.

She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.

He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.

Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.

Yet, she never does.

König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.

She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.

Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.

All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.

He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.

The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.

“Why does he never speak to us?”

Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.

It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.

The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.

It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.

He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.

The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.

“Look at this one!,” she calls out.

Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”

König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.

“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”

“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”

“But… I want it.”

She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.

The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.

With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.

She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.

Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.

“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.

He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.

If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.

“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.

He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.

“I brought you here.”

She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.

The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.

She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.

His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.

A mere taste wouldn’t do.

Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.

“You are to be my wife.”

That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.

“I don’t belong here.”

König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.

“You will.”

A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.

“How could that be?”

He doesn’t respond.

More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.

“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.

Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.

“Quite… yes.”

She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.

There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.

He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.

He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.

It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.

The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.

She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.

— — —

With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.

Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.

When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.

Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.

Never has she returned with a gift.

Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.

“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.

Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.

He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.

“Did you?”

She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.

“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.

“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.

Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.

She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.

“I don’t think that I understand.”

“You should.”

He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.

She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?

“To tie you to me,” she says softly.

The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.

Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.

#König x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #König #konig #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic

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the-californicationist · 6 months

Text

he changes your mind

John Price has been trying his best to convince you to let him give you a baby. After learning about his willingness to make sacrifices for you and your family, you decide to grant his wish.

MDNI/18+

TW: breeding, pregnancy, explicit sex

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51167794

Be sure to stop by my archive for more COD fics and to view my completed Kinktober collection, "Gauntlet".

John Price was smiling again. His cheeks were crushed up underneath his pale blue eyes, full of wonder and searing joy. The creases at the edges of his lashes cut and folded like the beginnings of an origami crane along his temple, and even though they did the same folds every single time, your heart skipped a beat when you saw them. The beard that lay flat and smooth around his mouth stretched with his smile, broad and keen. Sincere. Innocent and pure. And his laugh sent a knife right through your belly, melting down inside of you like coffee too hot, letting you feel your shapes and holes and secrets all the way down until you couldn’t breathe until he laughed again. Desperate for it. You wanted to rip it from him and keep it inside of you instead so you could tap into that bliss like an addict. You wanted a button to push to force it out of him so you could hear the sound in your darkest days, using him to turn on the light.

To make matters worse, he was holding a baby.

He was making you want one. In fact, he was making you want him to put one inside of you. His baby. One of your very own. One with blue eyes that crinkled at the edges like shining cellophane.

You resisted the pull like a yearling in a harness. You wanted to buck against it and kick it in the teeth. You didn’t want a child. John was always gone - mission after mission - and you weren’t willing to raise a whole person by yourself. You could do it, but you wouldn’t. That wasn’t fair. A child needs their guardian, and when your guardian was the guardian of the world…how could you come first?

So, you boxed it up and put it away in you with the rest of your ghosts. You haunted yourself with it sometimes. When you scrolled through your online purchases of milk and bread, sometimes it would suggest baby formula to add to your cart, as if, subtly suggesting like a mother-in-law, you were missing something important. But, you kept busy. You worked hard, you traveled, you spent time with friends. You loved John dearly, and you craved him more and more every day. You were happy, as happy as anyone should have the right to be. Why should you be entitled to open a box you had no business opening?

But, there it was, down from the attic of your mind again and cracked open in the foyer of your frontal cortex, waiting for you to pluck from it a warm, writhing little bundle that needed you to hold it and kiss it and tell it how to drive a manual transmission. A Janice or an Eric or a Persephone - someone new for the world to put through its horrors. Someone to catch a cold, to have their heart broken, to lose their job. Someone new to put you and John in matching coffins and lower you down into matching holes where you’d be covered and buried in the same place from whence they’d come. Entropy.

You watched as John crooked his elbow just so, supportive and careful, his massive form suddenly as agile as an arching ballerina, holding the bottle and the towel and the someone new as gently as a leaf holds the dew in the mornings in the spring.

You were wet. Your heart and your womb were fully committed to the bit. Some ancient bacteria that divided for the first time back when you were just primordial soup had optimized you for just this moment. It was lying in wait for John Price to crane his neck down to leave little chirping kisses on the softest pink cheek and then to smile when it garnered its reaction. That instinctual drive revved inside of you when he wiped away a stray drop of milk from a grinning toothless mouth. A mouth that would learn how to give kisses right back one day and beg you for them.

The way your hands clenched around your arms was going to leave a bruise.

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

“Such a cute lad, aye?” John commented, driving you down the dark road to your home.

“Gaz sure has his hands full,” you nodded.

“He’ll make it work. It always works itself out, right?” He was suggestive, and you weren’t about to have that.

“If it did, we wouldn’t need the orphanages.”

He was silent. The battle you had just won meant little to the war that raged on in the silence between you.

“I asked Laswell for the hiatus.”

“What?”

“You said that you needed me here. No more away missions. No more black sites. And you said we’d discuss it.”

“I said we might discuss - ”

“No, you said you needed those to happen, and I made them happen. She wrote up the paperwork. When I sign it, I’m here, for good. I’m a full on intel analyst. And it’s a pay raise,” he raised his volume, and his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“It means okay. We can try, okay?”

“Don’t play with me, pumpkin. I can’t - ”

You put your hand on his thigh and squeezed it, giving him a soft smile.

“I said okay.”

He drove faster. He barely stopped at stop signs. He parked in the gravel instead of pulling under the carport. He opened your door and nearly pulled you out.

With his hand at the small of your back, he walked you to the front door, keys jangling loudly in his hand, the tip of the key scraping at the edges of the lock like a dog at the door, clamoring to get in. The door cracked. You were inside before you knew it. The keys fell to the floor and the door slammed shut behind you. John scooped you up and kicked in the panel to your bedroom. He fell on top of you, kissing you roughly, like he had mere minutes to spare. Your blood was rushing, pounding in your ears, and you could feel how heavy his breaths were as his chest pushed and pulled inside of himself.

“John. Jo- Hey, John. Wait - ”

John stopped, his hands stuffed under your dress, fingers looped in your panties, frozen in place like you had paused time itself. He didn’t look up at you. His head stayed down, and he waited for you to do something about it.

You grabbed his cheeks and forced him to meet your eyes,

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper.

“Please, sweetheart,” John’s eyes held within them a fragile prayer, “Let me give you a baby. I want to see you hold her inside, right here,” he kissed your belly as he raised up your dress, “I want to see you in her face when she smiles and laughs.”

You smiled at him, petting his hair, enjoying his kisses,

“How do you know it’ll be a girl?”

He scoffed, kissing you further down, peeling the panties away as he had first intended,

“Just let me dream, alright? You said you would try.”

His hot mouth covered your clit and suckled against it with a renewed hunger. You tried to respond,

“Mm, I will, John. We’ll try.”

“We’re going to try right now.”

His fingers spread you apart and he began to fuck you deeply on his hand, licking you apart at the seams, letting your binds and ties melt like sugar on his tongue, freeing you from the confines of the world around you, ripping you from reality and dragging you with him into his primal wonderland. You could feel his fingers stretching up, deeper than he usually did, feeling around for the soft roundness of the entrance to your womb. He found it and circled around it, as if mapping it for himself, visualizing it and teasing himself with all of its possibilities. It made you squirm, and he sucked harder, cowing you into submission with an orgasm, which you gasped out in shock. You’d been struggling to hold it together since Nova’s baby shower, and you were desperate for relief. That relief hit you like a truck, and you came hard enough to see stars in the dim light of your bedroom.

As soon as John felt you clench around his hand, he fucked you harder, adding a finger and curling them into you, stretching you to fit his thickness. He had his length out and ready at your entrance faster than you thought was physically possible, spitting down onto himself and positioning himself inside your folds, ready to commit.

Then, for all of his anxious hurry, he stopped, as if he was missing something. He looked at you, concerned and needy, still fully clothed and unable to think straight. He looked lost. You held his hips in your hands and coaxed him forward,

“It’s okay, John. C’mon, let’s try.”

You thought he might break down and cry from the relief that washed over him. It was like you’d pulled a burning arrow from his heart. He sank into you like a stone in a lake, quick and sure, wet and eager.

“Oh, fuuuuuck!” John shouted. It was loud enough that you wondered briefly about your neighbors.

He fell on top of you, crawling over you with his hulking arms, prowling up to kiss your neck like a horny teenager, full of the same level of vigor. His thrusts were deep - deeper than usual - as if he was searching out that smoothness of your anatomy, looking for his target. You canted your hips downward to help him find it. When he did, you both groaned for each other.

"That's it, my sweet girl," he rubbed your clit in gentle circles, sending you back into orbit, "I'm so fuckin' ready to see my baby in you. Fuck! I can't wait."

The way his cock throbbed with each of his thrusts was sending you into a sort of trance. Your pussy felt stuffed, like it was struggling around his fat cock, bending and pulling at its walls to allow him to fit. His kisses were formless and weak, but his hips were merciless in their pounding. The two divergent sensations forced a rift in your mind, and your pleasure stretched to meet his fierce and gentle need. You felt the wave-like tingle of your recent orgasm tumbling in the back of your mind, threatening to rise again to crash upon your shore, growing with each pull of his rocking rhythm.

"Feel so good," he confessed in your ear, "Letting me give this to you, do this for you. Like heaven, love."

You encouraged the motion of his body with your hands, touching the snapping, ferocious muscles of his spread back, digging your nails into his furry skin when he angled himself just so, casting spell after spell to hypnotize you into pliant submission. Then, he quickened, panting, pleading, whispering his pleas over and over to you or to God, you couldn’t tell. He was making you feel like one and the same. His voice cracked,

"Bloody hell, I can't hold it back. Goddamnit. I'm - ahhh!"

When he filled you, and he damn well filled you, he held himself tightly pressed to your womb’s gate like he would be washed away at sea, gripping your body like a lifeline. He reached beside you for his pillow and shoved it under your hips, groaning and panting as he came down from his high, one-track minded. John kept his cock in you like a seal, holding you there much longer than usual. As you regained your senses and your ability to form words, you looked up at him and asked,

“John, what are you doing?”

“Shh, just wait. I want to make sure it’s there. Has to be deep enough for you, love.”

He kissed you again, using his long tongue to lick all the way into your mouth, still desperate and devout. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was weeks away from your ovulation window. Maybe you would just keep that to yourself.

#captain john price #captain price #cod mw2 #john price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #cod mwii

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percyluvr · 2 months

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hi can u do a percy x persephone reader

percy jackson x child of persephone!reader summary: you come back to camp halfblood and realize that percy has a crush on you wc: 667

Today was one of the rare days you were actually at Camp Half-Blood. Typically, you were with your brother, Nico. While you two aren't actually siblings, your godly parents are married and you two are very close friends so you tend to just call each other your sibling. The two of you were typically not at Camp Half-Blood because you were usually doing things for your parents, just hanging out together, or at Camp Jupiter helping out with whatever they needed.

Today was the first day of summer, and with that brought the harvest of the strawberries in the strawberry patch at camp. You and Nico always came back at this time of year, and the length of your visits varied from year to year. This year, the two of you planned to stay until August, him doing whatever it was he did while the two of you were there, you weren't sure exactly as you had never asked, but you made a mental note to finally ask him. While you didn't know what he did, you did know that you needed to head out of your cabin to do your job, which was keeping the strawberries healthy, keeping the dirt fertile, and helping to harvest the strawberries.

While it was usually the Demeter kids that kept the plants and forest healthy, whenever you were there you made an effort to use your powers to help out and keep the soil fertile.

You'd always found nature to be very soothing, and while that was most likely due to your parentage, you often found yourself thinking that you would love it even if Persephone wasn't your mother.

You had already been tending to the gardens for a few hours when you finally felt an intense gaze on your back. When you turned around, you were met with the piercing gaze of Percy Jackson's green eyes. When your gaze met his, you saw him smirk slightly and push himself away from the tree he was standing against.

"Percy. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be helping around the camp and not staring at me like a creep?" You asked, slightly concerned as to why he was staring at you for God knows how long.

"I like watching you work. Is that a crime?" He challenged.

"Yes, stalking. Ever heard of it?" You joked.

"S'not stalking. Just admiring the view." He flirted, the blush dusting your cheeks made his heart speed up.

"Whatever, Jackson, either help me or go away. You're starting to sound like even more of a creep," you say, trying to cover up how flustered you were from what you thought was probably meaningless flirting to him.

"Anything for you, princess," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and began tending to the strawberries again.

After a while, you heard him softly speak. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you, you know that, right?"

When you looked over at him, he was already looking at you with his mesmerizing viridescent eyes.

"No," you said softly. "I didn't even think you actually liked me."

"What? That's crazy! I’m only like this because I do like you," he was almost whispering now, and you noticed that the two of you had gotten incredibly close to each other now. You two were at what you considered kissing distance, and the way he was looking at you wasn't helping. He was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and made the sun shine every day.

"You do? Like you like-like me?" You questioned, which made him chuckle.

"Yes, princess, I like-like you. More than friends. More than anything in the world. I love you," he confessed.

"Can I kiss you?" You softly asked him.

"You don't even need to ask."

The feeling of his soft, full lips on yours felt like heaven. It felt better than anything you'd ever felt in your life.

After kissing Percy Jackson, you didn't know how you could ever leave camp again.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson fic #pjo x reader #pjo x you #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson #how can i live in a world where percy jackson isn't my bf?#i will never stop thinking about this man

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an-exasperated-hades-kid · 26 days

Text

So I've been seeing a lot of will solace hate, and I'm here to defend my son.

First of all, he's not a toxic person at all he's a human who can mess up at times and be unintentionally rude, like in that one scene boo where he says

‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –

^ that is rude but he didn't have bad intentions because according to him nico wasn't scary and the people that he hung out with - Lou Ellen and Cecil- didn't think that nico was scary either as they were both friendly towards him when they met him at the Roman camping area outside chb so while his delivery wasn't good he meant no harm and he also helped nico realize that not everyone hates him and then there are a few jokes that he made that people consider toxic or offensive but nico was never offended or sad about these jokes he only rolled his eyes and acted exasperated so he knew will meant no harm .

Will is canonically described as a laid-back and calm person, but he is also stubborn when it comes to certain things like medical related things which is understandable since he can feel everything physically wrong with a person by just touching them and is persistent that they don't die and Take care of themselves which is understandable since he saw majority of his siblings die and doesn't want more ppl to die .

Will is actually quite a complex character he's calm and laid back but he's stubborn and strict when he needs to be he's supportive and loving to nico but since he's a kid he struggles with being understanding sometimes hence why he asks persephone for advice on how to be there for nico properly showing that he's mature enough to ask for help . He's also someone represses his emotions because he thinks that as head counselor, he has to be a perfect example, and he told this apollo in the 1st toa book. He's also pretty insecure about his abilities, as shown in boo

Evidence:

You did,’ confirmed Nico. ‘But it was the way you did it. You made it clear that you wanted me around. You said you wanted me to come to the infirmary and help, because … because you could use a “friendly face”.’

‘It was true. And you did help.’

‘You brought me closer instead of rejecting me,’ Nico said, his voice cracking. ‘I’d never been called a friendly face. Ever. You made me rethink everything – my place in camp, my crush on Percy, my future. It took you scolding me like you were the camp director to make me realize that I was … wanted.

___

But with Nico … It’s hard, Persephone. I want the best for him, and he seems to disappear into his darkness, like he’s hiding in a place where he doesn’t want my light.’

‘Then why not offer him your darkness

_____

Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently, he could also be stubborn and aggravating

_______________________________________

In conclusion will isn't toxic and he isn't perfect and if I'm wrong about something please point it out cause I haven't read the books in a while and if I missed something please point it out and I'm sorry for the typos I wrote this without wearing my glasses as 3 am after studying for a test

#will solace #defending will solace #hes not a bad person but hes also not perfect hes a mixture of both #we need to stop the hate for will like hes done like one or two bad thing in the series and even those times didnt mean to be rude #solangelo #percy jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #leave my boy will alone like if he comes off as a dick its a writing mistake on ricks part except that boo i will not exuse him there #anti will solace #im countering yalls argument #its stupid and immature to hate someone because they did like 1 thing #like bro is 16 and he was 14/15 during that scene in boo ofc he's going to make mistake #he's a fucking child and he's learning

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

Note

can you do leo valdez x hades fem reader pleasee

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs warning: none! (lies tiny angst at the end my bad) authors note: yall need to ban me from listen to sad music while i write bc i ruin whole ass hcs by making em sad at the end BLAME PHOEBE BRIDGERS AND MITSKI THIS IS NOT MY FAULT YALL I WILL NOT TAKE THE BLAME did i put the music on?? yes. did i also know this would happen?? yes. BUT IM JUST A GIRL IN THE WORLD STFU-

leo would tell anyone who listened that you guys were fated to fall in love

you always roll your eyes but let him list off all his reasons why he believes this

firstly, you guys met purely by chance

you'd been walking around in the woods, having sensed some interesting bones there earlier and wanting to dig them up and hear their story

leo been running from the stoll's after a wonderful prank, which sent him hurling through the bones you'd just managed to reconstruct from the ground

"hey! i just got mr. cain here back together and then you come running through him like you own the place," you huffed before continuing to lay into leo, who looked up at you with borderline heart eyes

you were yelling at him and he was falling in love

you forced him to help you collected his phalanges and pelvis and leo did so without needing to be told twice, wanting to spend more time with death's daughter

from that moment forwards, you had two shadows, one which spewed constant pick up lines and jokes

nico was not happy, purposefully making sure to uproot bones in places that leo walked often, leading the boy to trip a lot

sadly, this backfired on nico, as you were always there to catch leo and rebury the bones

nico also tried knocking some sense into you by forcing you to admit to your father that you had a crush on some boy

but, once more, this only solidified your feelings as persephone had been in the underworld and squealed with joy at the reveal before dragging you off to a girl's night

it was a night filled with cosmo magazines and face masks and flirting techniques and the trading of lip glosses

nico gave up after that, in fear that he'd just push you two closer together

leo always bragged that it was fates work getting you together, but you always believe it to be nico's attempts to keep you apart

anyways, following you girl's night with persephone, you figured you had enough tools to get the guy

but before you even had the chance to apply your new lip gloss, leo dragged you to where you first met and was asking to be your boyfriend

you agreed but whined about not being able to ask first

and, as an olive branch for nico, leo made him some silver skull themed jewelry, which nico took with a glare and nod

that was the closest leo got to acceptance from the boy but he took it

you gift leo little trinkets that the dead gift to you, thing you think he'd like

a pocket watch from a 1950s boat conductor, a ring from a danish seamstress, a cog from the titanic that one of the passengers stole with his dying breaths

he proudly displayed it all on a shelf above his work bench, sometimes leaning back in his chair and staring up at it to get inspiration

and one night, while you were sitting on the couch in bunker nine, while leo worked and you cuddled into one of his sweaters, you reached over and traced your fingers over the photo of him and his mom

"...she's in elysium," you whispered, fingers ghosting over the photo and eyes locked onto her own

leo turned in his chair, face scrunched up as he wasn't entirely sure he heard you. and he wanted to make sure he heard you correctly.

"what?"

"your mom. she made it. she...she's waiting for you, leo. she's so, so proud, gods you can feel it, come here," you replied, heaving breaths as you felt it course through you, jumping you and rushing to him, shoving your hands against any part of his skin you could reach

he could feel it, your typically cold skin was burning up, warm and thudding and leo could swear he could smell his mother's natural smell of grease and her tamales that she always made for his birthday

"you're the best thing she ever made. she has no regrets, not a single one. the love she has for you is...it's so strong, leo. even my father can't kill something like that," you whispered, sliding your hands against his skin as to keep the contact, to allow him to grasp onto the feeling for longer

leo's hands grabbed your wrists, guiding your hands over his shoulder to his back before he tugged you into his chest, pulling you into a suffocatingly tight hug

you splayed your hands wide over his back, spreading the feeling to anywhere you could reach as he cried into the crook of your neck

he was muttering in spanish, pieces you've picked up here and there, translating into words like 'grateful' and 'love' and 'miss you' and 'mom'

and while you were growing exhausted from effort to use your powers, you refused to quit, knowing he needed and deserved this

soon after, leo pulled your hands from him, worry covering his tear streaked face

"oh, my sweet girl," he whispered as you slumped against him

without a second thought, he picked you up and laid you down on the couch, knowing you needed rest after that

he could tell you were already asleep from the soft fluttery breaths that left your mouth

he kept one of your hands held between both of his, no longer feeling his mother's love but something different

something similar though, the strength behind it nearly as strong

"thank you," he whispered against your skin before pressing a kiss to your temple

and then he said a silent thanks to whoever sent him you, whoever sent him barreling through your bones that fated day, whoever made nico want to break them apart, whoever had persephone home when you revealed your crush on the boy

he'd thank whoever would listen for the daughter of death, for he would never stop being grateful for her.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

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goldenqingxin · 3 months

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after e07 i feel like hades and percy would like. meet for brownies or something every once in a while just so percy can hear whatever stupid nautical jokes hades comes up with. idk its like him being buddies with apollo or ganymede. i see it. they feed cerberus and bond over horrible dad humour because percy genuinely thinks its funny and hades is kinda lonely when persephone's gone.

imagine the whiplash in boo when nico springs up the "i had a crush on you" thing. bro was besties with his DAD. thats EMBARASSING.

#pjo #pjo tv show #percy jackson #hades pjo #persephone pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #the humor potential is massive here #battle of manhattan going like “please dad we gotta save the world” “no” “...for percy?” “okay give me 5”

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lvckyyz · 2 months

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somebody to love

how each cabin would react to one of their siblings being in love

cabin 1

zeus’ children don’t usually talk about love, so when you decided to ask your siblings advice on how to confess your love for someone, they’d think you’re joking;

but when they realize you started looking even more uncomfortable, they’d stop laughing and start thinking of ways to help you;

they’re probably not the best people to ask for romantic advice honestly. your siblings don’t agree on anything, each one of them would tell you different things to do and try to get the leadership in the situation;

it’d get to a point where they all forget about your problem and just start arguing about any other thing that is bothering them in their siblings.

cabin 4

they’d all stop what they were doing and stare at you for a long time, waiting to see if you were joking;

after some time they’d sit you down and make you tell them how it all started. they want DETAILS;

some of them would be too shy to give you advice, since most of them are probably a bit inexperienced in love, but would be really supportive;

they’d obviously make you give your loved one a bouquet of flowers, but wouldn’t come up with a better advice rather than “just be honest with them”.

cabin 10

they got offended that it took you so long to tell them about you having a crush on someone. and of course they already knew about it, they were just waiting to see if you’d trust them to talk about it.

you got scared because they knew more about the person you liked that you did, like they did an actual investigation on their life to see if they were actually good for you.

they have a lot of scenarios planned already, so all you have to do is choose how you want your confession to be and they’ll do the rest.

it was one of the rare occasions where you could see all your siblings working together. they were really sweet and caring with you and you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable or insecure about your feelings.

cabin 13

hades’ kids usually find hard to talk about their feelings so i’d guess you’d never tell your siblings about the person you like, and they just found out by accident;

and they wouldn’t tell you that they knew you were hiding something from them, if their friends from cabin 20 didn’t tell them it was the best thing to do;

it was really awkward, they didn’t know what to say but wanted to help you somehow. they considered calling your father but gave up on the moment they remembered about how he started dating persephone.

they’d tell you that you can count on then if you need help but would also make sure that you know they’re not the best at giving love advice

author’s note:

hii lovelies! i don’t know where this idea came from, but i’m just trying new things here ok? let me know if you like this kind of hcs pls💕

also forgive me to post so much lately, i know it can be annoying sometimes but my anxiety won’t let me wait to share it🥹

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hogoflight · 6 months

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In TOA, I like the idea that because Apollo is usually associated with fertility deities, which can sometimes present itself as being his lovers in mythology / being generally associated with him, sometimes fertility deities have an unexplainable Thing for this guy / want to be besties / immediately feel amicable towards him for no reason.

they look at him and go “man that seems like a swell guy. I feel really happy now. Why”

like:

Hyacinthus being worshipped as a fertility deity.

That one time he mentioned the flock of nymphs that love him.

Frey. (Just Frey)

Maybe Persephone had a crush on him when they were kids and Demeter was like “AWW do you want to get married when you’re older??” And Apollo cried because he didn’t want to get married to her.

also the fact that in the Orphic hymn Demeter / Rhea prophesies that Persephone will marry Apollo. You can spin it to imply she would approve of this marriage?? Which given Apollo Love Life™️, implies, with even more stretching, than Demeter approves of Apollo??? (At least until the time they fought bc she wouldn’t let him date another one of his daughters??)

Apollo was (once) Zeus’ favourite son.

Hera is jealous bc he’s capable and “a good son”, which is therefore only possible if she thinks he’s capable and talented.

That One Time in That One Hymn where Aphrodite was basically like “if I was mortal and I could be Apollo’s wife I’d drop everything to be with him!! But not because I like him or anything haha” (I’m so sorry I completely forgot where it was from BUT I REMEMBER A SCREENSHOT OF A TRANSLATION I KNOW IT’S REAL I SWEAR). Also the idea of Aphrodite having a crush on Apollo at some point where he literally just Does Not Care or Doesn’t Even Notice is so so funny.

Being Best Buds with Hermes and Dionysus.

oh yeah couldn’t Artemis arguably be fertility bc childbirth? In that case. Twin.

ALSO IMAGINE IF COMMODUS GOT DEIFIED AS A FERTILITY GOD. THAT WOULD BE SO FUNNY. Imagine going “I’m going to persist as a god so I can D E S T R O Y my E X who I HATE SO MUCH I’m GOING TO KILL HIM and you become People Who Like Apollo type of god.

#apollo #toa #hyacinthus #dionysus #hermes #persephone #demeter #aphrodite #frey #freypollo #commodus #I literally love freypollo so much why don’t I write about them more. Auaghgh

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written-with-blue-ink · 2 months

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Hey, what are your thoughts on how Zagreus would gain a crush on the reader? Just pure fluff please

Yeah, no prob hon! Since you didn't specify, I'm gonna do headcanons!

Zagreus X GN!Reader

He probably first saw you right before he went on his killing spree throughout the Greek Underworld, like every other shade who entered the House of Hades: waiting for a decree from his father.

I love Zag but he isn't the perceptive type. Many souls come through the Throne Room daily, an uncountable number that has to go through admissions, paperwork, etc.

The first time he ran into you though, he caught sight of someone at the entrance struggling to get used to the fire and smoke that Asphodel is engulfed in.

Being the gentleman his father didn't raise him to be, he offered to help you find a better place to make your space.

Taking one of the rafts together was weird for you to say the least. There is really only space for one so he pulled you close, making both of you blush in embarrassment.

I mean, a mortal soul holding onto the chest of the God of Blood and Rebirth? How sweet!

You have to admit, him fighting was brilliant and attractive. He was strong, graceful, and tried his damnedest to protect you (even though you are already dead and can't really get hurt)

About two stops later he introduces you to Euridyce, who is more than happy to take you in like a mother bird protecting her nest.

Zagreus' affection for you mostly grew over time with consistent visits to Euridyce's humble abode

The little things that came out of the three of you talking, you break out of your shell really.

Your laughter and wittiness with both him and Euridyce are major things.

Bandaging up a wound or giving some small drachma to help afford items at Charon's shop.

Your pep-talks and advice when it comes to strategy in the upper levels.

These small gestures of kindness mean the world to someone like Zagreus who didn't have a caring parent or many friends.

He brings little gifts for you too, especially when Persephone returns

Pressed flowers or little things he knicked from the palace for you to use.

He's not ready to tell his feelings yet but he just enjoys the moments he spends with you.

#zagreus x reader #hades supergiant #zagreus #zagreus hades #hades zagreus #hades game x reader #hades game #zagreus x gn reader

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m-jelly · 2 months

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Levi x Reader - chan but Persephone and Hades story. Like when Reader - chan was scared at first but slowly warmed up to him? (BTW Hades was literally the only guy who was faithful to his wife, Persephone. 🥰) Arigato!!!

A gift of petals

Levi x fem!reader

Gods AU, Hades and Persephone inspired, fluff, romance, falling in love, Gods, powers, becoming a couple.

Levi takes a small break from the underworld by going to the mortal realm. While there, he comes across a goddess he has never seen before. Levi falls for you and wants to know you more, but at first, you are scared of him. He leaves you gifts and tries to talk to you. As time goes on you warm up to the sweet man of death and see he's just an adorable flustered goofball.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

It was nice and warm around this time in the mortal real. The underworld was normally cool and a bit chilly, so a change in temperature was nice for once. There were no expectations for this little holiday, only to just relax and see how humans were living their lives.

The mortal realm seemed more beautiful than it did before, almost like something sweet hand entered the world and gave people hope. As Levi explored he heard people talking about how Spring had changed over the years, like now it was full of love and bursting with hope. Levi noticed it too because the goddess who normally did Spring was a bit uptight, she didn't like many people.

His travels led him to a grand field full of new life. The beauty and care were breathtaking to him. He moved down the hill and took a seat for a moment so he could just take it all in. Everything just moved him, he felt such comfort in this new Spring. He was so curious about who the Goddess was that hadn't stepped foot in the world of the Gods yet.

Levi held his breath when he saw a swirl of thick blossoms and petals, which slowly faded to reveal the most stunning woman he had ever seen. You were so breathtaking wearing a sweet white flowing dress that showed off your chest, as well as your waist. There was a slight pink hue to you as well.

He rose to his feet and moved closer to you. "So cute."

You smiled at your work and made a big oak tree grow tall. "Perfect."

"Hello."

You jumped and squealed at the deep male voice. You shot behind the tree and peeked out at the most handsome man you'd ever seen. "Mm."

Levi blushed hard. "I um...you...you're pretty...uh...I'm Le-Levi. Wh-what's your name?"

"Please don't hurt me."

Levi held his hands up. "I would never. I just want to say hello."

You whined a bit. "I've been hurt before."

"I just wanted to say I love your work. Y-you make beautiful things. A-And you are beautiful." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Mm, very beautiful."

You peered a little more. "You...are...handsome."

He moved closer as your words excited him. "Really?"

You gasped and quickly turned into a huge flower. "Stop."

He backed up. "I'm so sorry." He blushed. "I d-didn't mean to...I uh..." His shoulders dropped. "I'll back off. I don't want to scare you..." He turned and slowly walked away and mumbled to himself. "Everyone is so scared of me."

You turned back and felt so terrible. You could tell Levi was being truthful and that he meant no harm and he was utterly crushed that someone else was scared. So, you did something a little brave. You moved closer to him and with a bit of courage shouted your name at him.

Levi's eyes widened at hearing your name. He turned quickly and locked eyes with you. His heart hammered in his chest as the wind light played with your hair. He admired the sparkle in your eyes, you were adorable to him.

You gulped hard and said your name again. "Th-that's my name. C-Come back again, okay?"

He smiled at you. "I will."

Levi did just what you asked, he came back to the same spot every day so the two of you just got used to the other. You were warming up to him and being less scared and Levi was trying to be less flustered. However, when you both would catch each other's eyes, you would instantly become flustered.

He would bring you gifts, mainly flowers from the underworld that were mostly different shades of blue and black. He would place it near the tree then sit a distance from it and watch you. The two of you would shyly talk now and then.

As confidence grew between the two of you, you both wanted more. It was you who decided to make the next move. As Levi lay back and rested under the shade of your oak, you moved over to him and knelt above his head. You lightly touched his soft raven hair and formed a flower crown.

Levi frowned at hearing your hushed giggles. He opened his eyes and looked up at you. He sucked in the air as his heart raced. "H-Hello."

You smiled softly. "I made you something."

He sat up and turned a little to gaze at you. "Wh-what did you make me?"

You reached over and lifted the crown off his head and showed him. "A flower crown. You're the God of death and the underworld, you're basically king. A King needs a crown."

His cheeks burned. "Th-thank you." He lowered his head. "C-Could you?"

You placed the crown on his head. "A cute king."

He lifted his head and smiled at you. "Thank you." He leaned closer and kissed your cheek, it was pure instinct to do it. He pulled back. "S-sorry if...I should have asked." He blushed when he saw flowers everywhere. "So many flowers. What happened?"

You crawled towards him and kissed him. You pulled back and noticed more flowers around you both. You smiled and kissed him again as Levi sat there blushing hard. "You make me bloom more."

Levi cupped the side of your face. "You make me bloom too. I like you so much. I want you as mine."

You sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around him. You hugged him and hummed in happiness. "I want to be yours."

He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers as his eyes studied your face. He gasped when you kissed him again. "Y-You keep...you fluster me."

"Do you not like kisses?"

He cupped the side of your face. "I love them." He pressed his lips against yours and then lightly nipped your lip. When your lips parted his tongue slipped into your mouth. He moaned in delight.

You clung to Levi and kissed him back with just as much passion. You adored Levi so much. You couldn't believe that the man you used to be scared of was now always in your heart. You pushed him down against the ground as you kept kissing him.

You released Levi's lips and lay against him as the sun warmed you both up. "I'm happy."

Levi held you tightly. "I want to be with you. I'm worried though."

You leaned up and looked down at him. "Worried?"

"You belong here and I'm from the underworld. You create life and I take it." He sat up with you. "I have to go back to my world. I have a job there." He kissed you. "I will visit you often, I promise."

"I can't go with you?"

He shook his head. "Spring should be here, not in the underworld." He kissed you again. "I want to spend one last wonderful day with you."

Each moment with Levi was blissful. The two of you kissed often, hugged and ran around the field together. For a small moment, you danced under the full moon with whispers of adoration, devotion and love. When it got very late, you held each other on a bed of flowers under your tree.

As morning came, you parted with tears from both of you. Levi left you with love-filled promises and you knew very well he would honour them. However, your longing for the sweetest man in the universe grew. So, you travelled through the lands until you got to the famous river of Styx.

For a while, you pondered on what to send to your lover. So many things raced through your mind, but you knew there was one thing that would hint to him you longed to see him. With a delicate touch, you poured petals into the water and watched them float along and into the underworld.

Levi adjusted his suit and tapped on his smartphone as he gave out orders. He has sent you some gifts, but his heart longed for you. It'd been days since he tasted the sweetness that was your lips and held your warm body. He felt he would go mad if he were not to see you again.

"Sir? There is something in the river."

Levi paused and looked at one of his workers. "Something in the river?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

The worker guided his boss to the river before pointing to the petals gently flowing along. "See? Why aren't they dead?"

Levi's heart raced in his chest. Seeing the petals float along and not be drained of life meant that if you were to be with him, he would not drain you of beauty and life. He ordered for a jar to be handed to him. Once he had the jar, he scooped up the petals and admired them.

"Leviii!"

He looked up at a soft and loving voice calling him. His heart stopped when he saw you standing in the boat with Charon rowing it, a sweet smile on his face and a necklace made of flowers. Levi panicked when you jumped out of the boat early, he feared the river would hurt you because you were so full of life, but you easily splashed around in the river like it was just water and ran over to him.

You giggled as you held your dress up. "Leviii!" You leapt into his arms and squealed in delight. "Levi!"

He held you tightly and sighed your name. "Oh, my love, my darling, my sweet moonlight. How are you here?"

You showered his face with kisses. "I was sending petals to you when Charon came by and asked what I was doing. So, I asked him for a ride. I have no money, so I made him lots of flower gifts!" You grinned. "Doesn't he look cute?"

Charon was talking to Levi's workers and showing off his gifts with pride. "All the mortals will love me and feel comfortable coming with me now!"

Levi held you like a bride. "My sweet love, you are too kind."

You kicked your feet. "I just wanted to see you. I could barely sleep, eat or think without you. You're my world, Levi. There is not Spring and hope without you."

He tapped his forehead against yours. "You belong in the mortal world, not in a cold place of death."

"I belong with you. I will give up everything to be with you."

Levi purred in delight. "Well, I was going to say you belong in the mortal world, not in a cold place of death. However, you will remain here with me because I will never let you go back. You are mine and I am yours."

You felt your cheeks burn. "Levi, I wish to eat the forbidden pomegranate so that I may always be with you." You tilted your head and moved your lips closer. "I know very well it starts with you and your body."

Levi's body vibrated at your hint, you were suggesting that you wanted to eat him. "My darling love, tonight you are the pomegranate and I will eat all of you and enjoy every last drop."

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genericpuff · 3 months

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Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

#anyways sorry that was a way deeper response than it oughta have been #welcome to the AMA roulette game of “ask puff a simple question which they may or may not respond to with an introspective essay"#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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