juno. she her. nineteen. infp-t. cabin four, daughter of demeter. hufflepuff. norwegian-american. beabadoobee. keshi. taylor swift. lover of the morally gray. professional yearner. slowest writer to ever exist.
current fictional obsessions ; luke castellan, theodore nott, harry potter, regulus black, james potter, bakugou katsuki, gally
first post :: 12th of sept, 2021
!! i do not own any of the photos i use on this page, pls message me if they are urs and u want me to take them down or credit u ā” !!
!! the ppl that appear in photos i use do not represent the reader, i just felt they were cute and fit the scenario, i still intend for all of my fics (unless labeled otherwise) to be gender neutral and poc friendly !!
-> visiting the museum with percy and annabeth would be an adventure arguably equally as difficult as the typical quest. percy tries to be as interested as annabeth is, but it usually ends with him making jokes about the statues or paintings.
sometimes he doesn't even have to say anything. he just looks at the butt of a naked statue, looks back at you, wiggles his eyebrows, and you both are rolling on the ground laughing. there's something about being with the two of them that makes everything so much funnier.
annabeth rolls her eyes at the two of you and continues her walk through the gallery, avoiding the judgmental gazes of the visitors truly interested in art.
-> ending up at the gift shop at the end of the trip. annabeth picks out a few books that showcase the art, muttering a few passive aggressive remarks to you and percy, "if only certain someones weren't goofing off the entire time, maybe i could have actually seen it all in person instead of settling for a copy."
-> you debate over getting a tee-shirt, but rule against it. the shirt wouldn't get much use -- everyone had to wear the orange CHB shirt on camp grounds anyways. you opt for a sticker pack with different art works, already pondering where you would stick them.
-> percy gravitates towards the postcard rack. most demigods struggle to read books, but percy was at the point in his life where he didn't even bother. he wouldn't read unless it was absolutely required, even a short bit of text explaining a painting.
after a few minutes of struggling to make a decision, he calls annabeth over and makes her choose one for him. "you know more about the art than me anyways. what would my mom like?"
"sally?" she hums and scans her eyes over the options. "maybe... this one?"
she selects one from the rack and presents it to the boy. you meander your way across the shop to join them. you look over percy's shoulder. a statue of a man holding the head of a gorgon--medusa-- above himself.
"a statue of perseus? a bit on the nose, don't you think?" annabeth shoots you a look. "i'm kidding." you look at percy, "she named you that for a reason. i think sally'd appreciate it."
-> on the train ride that would get you part of the way to camp, you discuss with percy what he'd write on the postcard. annabeth is flipping through one of her new "picture books" (as percy called them), occasionally contributing to the dialogue.
the two of you sat on a bench somewhere near the edge of camp. you had a book open in your hands and one of your legs was across his lap. letting it rest there gently, you were content with feeling his warm skin on yours.
āare you sure youāre reading that? i donāt think iāve seen you turn in the page in a bit.ā
luke was right, youāve been rereading the same page for the past ten minutes. it was really hard to concentrate so close to him. it was pathetic, really. just how much you struggled to be around an attractive guy.
āiām just a slow reader.ā it was a foolish lie and both of you knew it, you were one of the fastest readers at camp (mostly because so few campers even bothered trying to read a book; their dyslexia overpowering any desire they had). you tried again, āandā¦ itās just not a very interesting book. hard to get sucked into it, you know?ā
āwhatās it about?ā
gods! thatās probably the worst question he couldāve asked you. you truly had no idea what book was in your hands.
ājust something stupid about a fairytale or something. you wouldn't like it.ā
āyou sure?ā he let out a soft chuckle. āmaybe my dyslexiaās acting up, but iām pretty sure the title is āfrankenstein.ā doesnāt seem like much of a fairytale.ā
accepting defeat, you closed the cover -- not even bothering to mark the page -- and pulled your leg out of his lap.
!! SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT FINISHED THE PJO SERIES !! (itās also pretty angsty)
i canāt make this into an actual fic or one shot bc i know ill start sobbing, but i canāt stop thinking about what it would be like dating luke castellan before he betrays camp.
if you remain loyal to camp and donāt join chronos, i canāt imagine you two would continue dating. you wouldnāt see each other for years. youād try and forget about him. maybe date around to distract yourself. or maybe youād swear off dating all together, scared it would turn out the same way as it did last time. maybe luke would do the same.
youāve only seen him a couple times since then. only a few years after he left camp, you saw him during a quest you took. heās changed. sharing a body with a titan has taken a massive toll on his body. his once tan skin had now become a pale hue. he was a shell of his formal self.
and then it was the last battle. heād drastically changed yet again, doing a full 180. his skin glowed unnaturally and he looks almost too healthy, despite his internal sickness and turmoil.
right before he takes annabethās knife and stabs his achilles heel ā ending his life and chronosā ā he sees you. and blah blah i donāt even wanna put it into words but iām so very convinced that you share one final kiss as he leaves the mortal realm.
*cue last kiss by taylor swift playing in the background*
you often find yourself sitting on a random hill at camp, letting the warm morning sun soak into your skin and the slightly damp grass leave soft green stains on your jean shorts. you fiddle with the grass, often pulling out one or two strands and braiding them.
over, under, over, under. the patterned motion relaxes you as it continues. over, under, over, under.
you toss the strands of grass aside and opt for the daisies that lay around you. it was probably bad karma to rip flowers out of the ground and your mother would probably be at least a bit peeved if she saw you do this. it didnāt matter much to you, you never met demeter and didnāt feel indebted to her in any way. you could make as many daisy chains as you wanted, no one could stop you.
it was similar to how eliza, your friend from athena, would make paper stars whenever she got anxious. your daisy chains and her paper stars were just motions.
either way, luke didnāt mind your habit. he thought it was cute how your twitching hands could make such a beautiful little thing. the intricate braids laced around white daisies and took shape of whatever you wished. sometimes it became a crown. others, it was a necklace. you tried to make a bracelet once, but it fell apart and you hadnāt tried since, instead sticking to what you were more confident in.
speaking of luke, the son of hermes was making his way over to you. āwhatāre you doing up?ā
āi could say the same to you.ā you said with a smile so soft it rivaled your voice, unnecessarily quiet as to not wake any campers.
perhaps unknowingly following your example, luke lowered his voice as well, despite being far away from any cabins and not being loud to begin with. āyou got me there. i was gonna go to the range to practice the bow, you know iāve been trying to improve?ā he added a lilt to the end of his sentence as if he was asking a question.
it took you a second to process what he was saying. ānoā¦ i didnāt know that. why? youāve seemed fine with the bow last i saw you, no?ā
āsee!ā he put emphasis on that word, as if he had proved you wrong. āi seemed fine, not good. big difference, love.ā he looked down at your hands, noticing for the first time what you were fiddling with. āyou wanna come join? iām sure thereāre plenty of flowers over by the range.ā
your smile continued to widen at the goofy expression luke held, clearly proud of himself for finding a way to get you to join him. most times, luke preferred to practice his weaknesses by himself ā that was why he was up so early, after all ā but he always appreciated when you joined him. he called you his āgood luck charm.ā
āof course iāll come, luke.ā you popped up off the ground, now no longer as damp as it once was. green stains from the grass painted your shorts, but you ignored them. your hands scurried to snatch up the daisy chain that laid on the ground right below you. the chain was quickly stitched into a crown before you placed it on lukeās head. it was slightly too big and almost fell in front of his eyes.
he linked arms with you and the both of you continued down the hill, setting course for the range.
not proofread
my tags are also rlly glitchy so pls excuse if any of them are wrong
he didnāt deserve it. the kindest, loveliest boy you knew. he didnāt deserve you. you were the opposite of all of his good qualities. it wasnāt your fault, right? you blamed your mother for that one. you didnāt know who she was yet, but you knew it was somehow her fault. you couldnāt help your selfishness. you couldnāt help the broken promises and whispered lies you often shared with other campers. you couldnāt help the ambition that made you push all others aside to meet your goal.
and somehow, despite it all, luke was yours. he loved you more than anything else, or so he claimed.
āhey,ā he slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, āwhatās my [girl/boy/etc] up to?ā
despite all the negative self talk that took up your inner dialogue, you couldnāt help but let a smile break across your face at the sight of your love.
the two of you were never meant to be. wrong person, wrong time. he wanted a comfortable life; he wanted you to be his. but you never could. you werenāt one to sit quietly and be kind in the way he deserved. no matter how much you triedā¦
he was golden and you were broken, a sad excuse of a demigod. thatās what you kept telling yourself.
frank zhang, hazel levesque, piper mclean, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson, annabeth chase
x gn!reader; poc friendly
masterlist
ā ļø :: the relationship the reader has with the 7 could be romantic or platonic, itās up for your interpretation. you know your own age, donāt be weird with it.
-> sure there are a couple arguments here and there, some bigger than others, but breakfast usually solves all the problems that arise. if the argument happened the night before, it gave time to rest and think about the issue and how it could be resolved. if it was earlier that morning, breakfast still worked. they were forced to interact, even if it was just ājason, will you pass me the syrup?ā plus, no one thinks well on an empty stomach. the warmth of pancakes will fix even the worst of mindsets - the ones that only want to fight with the people theyāve been stuck with for months.
-> sleeping cuddled together is a common occurrence on the argo ii. sometimes it just gets lonely spending everyday up in the sky or down on the ground facing more monsters. it becomes monotonous. feeling the warmth provided by huddling together with another member (or members) of the argo ii will provid you some comfort at the very least. you arenāt alone. coach wonāt like it. ādoors open!ā but no one can help it, especially given that almost everyone was dating someone else on the ship.
-> movie nights <3 āāāā there would be so much arguing over what movie to watch, especially when hazelās from a different time entirely and jason had his memory wiped. annabeth, after nearly flipping her lid when leo dared to comment on one of greta gerwigās films, drew up a week-long calendar of who could pick a movie for each day. having a month-long calendar seemed both to be wishful thinking they would be around that long, and incredibly sad to imagine theyād still be stuck on this ship for another month.
mosquito bites, despite how much they itched and how aggravating the bumps were to feel whenever you ran your hands over your skin, never seemed to matter when you were with katsuki.
the daytime brought sunburns and salty skin (if you were lucky enough to go to the beach). you almost drowned a couple times when bakugou decided it was a good idea to sneak up behind you underwater and pull you under the waves, but you had a good time nonetheless.
lunches were never boring. the grittiness of the bits of sand that somehow ended up in your sandwich whenever you ate on the beach were a bit irritating, you never once wished for anything to change. however.. you were a bit inclined to set up a picnic blanket underneath a tree somewhere when given the option. you loved any excuse to cuddle outside with your bellies full from the lunch bakugou crafted a few hours ago.
but bakugou much preferred the nights. they usually ended with all his friends over, conked out after playing some new game for hours. kirishima and denki likely got into a foolish spat arguing over the rules of some game that mina invented yesterday. bakugou would claim to himself and others that he only invited them over to āschoolā them and āprove that he was the bestā. it was clear to you that this was a load of crap. you saw that endearing way he furrowed his eyebrows and how he turned around - feigning exasperation - to hide the smile that had crept onto his face in reaction to the ridiculousness of his friendsā arguments.
there was a 50/50 chance that the next morning would start with a bike ride to a nearby pond. there was also a 50/50 chance one of the them would forget their swim suits and have to skinny dip while the rest of you laughed at their misfortune.
the stickiness of the humid summer air, the bruises on your legs that just seemed to appear out of nowhere, all of it would have been annoying if it were anyone else, but you couldnāt help but feel content when it was katsuki.
request: "romantic hc when he meets his now wife after Anna's death and how he fell for her šāØ"
@hilalcoven
-> the count never thought he could fall for anyone ever again after the death of his lover, anna. he didn't even know how he would be able to live. he couldn't raise annie, their kid. despite barely having any distinguishing features yet, the thought that she would turn into someone that resembled anna was too much to bear. he felt awful that his daughter had to lose both her parents in such quick succession, but he could not force himself to raise her.
-> he had sworn off love entirely, convinced it would bring nothing but misfortune to him and any future lover of his.
-> but he changed his tune when he met you.
it was a cold september night in st. petersburg. it had been a couple years since the fateful day anna lost her life. the count had returned to the city from serbia - his time fighting against the ottoman empire was up.
he had expected the pain of his loss to have reduced itself after the years both away from anna and away from the city he became acquainted with her in. unfortunately for alexei, the pain came back as soon as he saw the skyline of st petersburg emerging from the horizon.
to escape this, vronsky visited a tavern as soon as he arrived in the all-too familiar city.
the warmth of the bustling building rushed to meet him as soon as the count opened the well worn door. the stench of cheap alcohol enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him. his eyes landed on the bar that was situated a bit further back into the establishment and was occupied by two men who were clearly foreigners to this area and were speaking quickly in a tongue alexei could not understand. as was the unspoken rule, alexei sat two stools over and waited for the worker behind the bar to come over.
count vronsky had become impossibly quiet in the time away from anna. he only spoke when addressed. he avoided confrontation. it was as if the death of the mother of his child had left him mute.
an uncountable amount of minutes passed before a noise brought alexei out of his stupor. he had long since received his meal - a roasted meat he already forgot the name of. the pale ale in his mug had been nursed far too many times and was nearly gone.
his head snapped up when he heard that noise again. it was the trotting of a horse and the spinning wheels of the carriage it was pulling. there was something so recognizable about it. before alexei could be sucked back into his reminiscing tendencies, he turned around as the wooden door opened.
and there you were.
he wouldn't exactly call it "love at first sight", but he was certainly intrigued. count vronsky looked around the bar and noticed a couple other men that let their eyes flicker towards you periodically. aleksey stood slowly, stretching out the aches and pains that had grown in his joints in the many minutes he had been sitting. he would not let another man reach you before he could. and so, he began to walk over to you.
-> there isn't much that differentiates yandere!vader from a "normal" darth vader. he's already an incredibly possessive man when it comes to relationships. losing that many people in his more formative years (even though he caused most of the losses) was not good on his brain development. he doesn't become attached easily, but when he does... he gets attached.
-> the biggest difference is his inability to let you go. that's not to say normal vader isn't a bit nervous to lose you, but at least he lets you walk around the ship. he's a bit nervous you'll be targeted by some troopers wishing to have their life ended early, but he trusts that you are strong enough to defend yourself. and if you're not able to fight anybody off, you know well enough to call him for assistance.
-> yandere!vader won't let you go in any sense. don't even dream about seeing anyone else ever.
-> you won't be able to leave your room. a full bathroom is already part of the room, but a kitchen will be added after an unfortunate incident that ended in the death of an innocent boy that was only attempting to deliver food to his chambers.
the day before had been particularly taxing on vader and he had slept in more than he normally does. on any average day, he would be up before 6, but most likely around 5:30. so who's surprised that the sith lord doesn't make his own food? he has it delivered before he starts his day. by the time of the delivery, vader has been up for almost an hour. his suit is on and the helmet is ready to be placed on to open the door and receive the meal. the only one privileged enough to see his face is you.
unfortunately for the poor delivery boy, vader was not up when the boy brought by the food and held his hand up to knock on the thick steel door. the sound reverberated in the large room, causing you to rouse and look at your lover. you've been told to never answer the door, but he was just so tired and you didn't want to wake him. he'd had a tough day.
and so - although it was a foolish decision - you pulled the covers back from your side of the bed and stood. the floor was cold against your feet and so you scampered quickly (and quietly) to the door so the numbing feeling would be over with soon.
another knock rang out as you reached the keypad that would open the door. you repeated the code you had seen vader thumb every time he left the room. a fwishhh accompanied the sliding of the door. the freckled boy before you couldn't have been older than 15, if you had to guess. he was standing next to a cart he no-doubt had been pushing all the way from the kitchen, given that it was stacked with breakfast goodies. fruits were delicately placed in a silver bowl and toast was on a plate right besides it. but, before your eyes could take in what else was on the trays, you heard a squeak coming from the boy in front of you. your eyes snapped towards him before you followed his gaze and spun your head quickly to face what had terrified him so.Ā
the black mask you had grown familiar with was what met your eyes. the darkness radiating off of him reminded you just how comfortable you had gotten around him. he was clearly angry. for a second, you were thankful it wasnāt at you, but then you remembered who it was directed at; the child behind you. say what you want about how you thought he had changed, but you remember the whispered stories of how merciless he was. that was before you met him. you were foolish to think that he could have ever truly changed.
before you could even think of how to deflect the anger onto yourself - anything to save the boy behind you from meeting the horrible fate you knew must be in store for him - the gloved hand reached out and squeezed. sputtering was heard behind you and you could do nothing but watch in terror.Ā
you had gotten too comfortable.
-> no amount of apologies could fix what had just been broken. you both felt betrayed. the sith lord was angry you had disobeyed him and answered the door for anyone. you were (more understandably) angry he had the nerve to kill a child in front of you for merely laying his eyes on you.Ā
āyouāre being ridiculous. he is was just a boy. you had no right-ā
āi had all the right in the universe. you are mine, donāt you ever forget that.ā
-> and so, a kitchen was built in the shared room. to prevent another misfortune from befalling a member of the shipās workforce, you were moved to another room for the time being.Ā
-> things would take a while to get back to how they once were. they were never normal. how could things be normal when you were trapped in your room for months on end? you hadn't seen beyond the corridor in months - and the only reason you had seen the corridor was when darth vader left to go about his duties every morning and came back every night. if it wasn't for his comings and goings, you very likely would have no idea of how time was passing.
-> being banished to another room entirely was more torturous than you thought it would be. you were foolish to believe that vader was the cause of your boredom. he was at one point, but no longer. you were entertained by only your thoughts and your movements. pacing back and forth for hours at a time left the rug beneath you threadbare; but it gave you something to do.
-> seeing vader again was a breath of fresh air. the days alone had left you craving everything he provided you with. and so, when you heard his signature breathing and laid your foggy eyes on him after being ripped out of a dreamless sleep, you bolted upright and practically threw yourself on top of him.
-> if he wasn't wearing a mask you would have been able to see the smug smirk he held.
ā ļø :: kinda angst?, swearing, anakin is lowkey an asshole
inspired by taylor swiftās āillicit affairsā
loving a jedi was hard. you never thought it would be easy, but you didnāt prepare yourself fully. sneaking out in the early morning after you slept over was something so humiliating you prayed every single day no one would find you.
it wasnāt that you were scared of getting in trouble for ādistracting the chosen oneā. trust me, you knew that was a possibility. but that wasnāt what scared you the most.
you knew how rumors worked. you knew you would be called a āslutā and that you were āwhoringā yourself out. no one would listen to you if you said it was not like that. thatās not how it worked. they only heard what they wanted to hear.
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and stolen stares
They show their truth one single time
But they lie, and they lie, and they lie
A million little times
you never thought it would get like this. not when you first laid your eyes on him. the longing glances whenever you were in the same room as him, only hoping that he might turn and meet your eyes, returning the look. maybe you would get lucky. maybe he would. but you knew he wouldnāt. he cared too much about his position as a jedi.
and yet, you never learned your lesson. you kept going back to him. maybe the jedi council would change the code. maybe heāll be able to openly express feelings for you one day. until then, youāll settle for loving him in private.
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this idiotic fool that you made me
You taught me a secret language
I can't speak with anyone else
he would never treat you as an equal. at least not in this time line. it wasnāt in his nature. you were younger than him and he would never let you forget that. he was always the smarter one, he always made the better choices. at least thatās what he insisted was the truth. he was too stubborn to admit otherwise.
sometimes you just wanted to slap him. to snap him out of his messed up way of thinking. to stop him from allowing others to flirt with him.
that was what bothered you the most. you could deal with not being public. but allowing others to think that they had a chance was something you struggled to excuse for the life of you.
it wasnāt long before you forgave him, though. you could never stay mad at him long. there was something about the way he smiled at you. the way he made you laugh. the way he held you. even the way he smelled. he was so addictive that he had you coming back for more, every single time.
And you know damn well
For you, I would ruin myself
A million little times
he ruined you. you could never love another the way you love him. he was the perfect man, even when he was less than perfect.
sorry, itās been on my mind for awhile. thereās just something about it thatās so addictive to me
he first heard your name when on coruscant. it was unusual to be a musician in this universe. most aimed for their occupation to be something āusefulā like a jedi or mechanic. something to aid the progression of society. but having someone to lighten their spirits was something else entirely. you were unique. an anomaly in the universe of āstar warsā.
there were musicians, he supposed. he hadnāt been to many taverns that didnāt have a few musicians strumming away or tooting on a wind instrument to an upbeat tune.
you were something else. someone singing and writing songs was a wild notion. you write from your heart and sing in ways that broke someoneās heart when you sang sadly and had their face grow warm when you sang of love.
being a jedi master brought some incredible perks. one of them, as he soon discovered, was meeting someone like you. it wasnāt the easiest thing in the world, but it took less time than it would take most for him to view one of your shows for himself. it seems that tickets for your show were hard to obtain.
whether you rapped or sang softly or somewhere in between, you were captivating. he couldnāt keep his eyes off you.
feeling eyes on you during your set was normal. after all, you were performing. people were supposed to look at you. but this show was different. something about their gaze felt smothering. when you glanced up and out at the crowd after turning from your band behind you, you caught the eyes of a certain brunette in the crowd.
you looked him up and down, clearly checking him out. you knew you were far enough away he shouldnāt have been able to see your eyes traveling all over him, but you felt like somehow he could tell. shrugging it off, you tossing him a wink and a smile, continuing with your show.
iāll probably make a part two because i am completely obsessed with him right now, but i wanted to get this out
