#“she’s not even my sister

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Hey! Can you write a story with Bran's wolf and Mercy? I am pretty sure if the beast was able to wrestle control from Bran, Mercy would be able to calm it. I would be happy to read something like that.

The ground was only just coming to the season where it was beginning to freeze. It smelled like frozen mud already and it sure hurt like it when I landed on my side.

The last thing I’d ever expect to happen while visiting Aspen Creek was being attacked by a witch. Really, being attacked by anything near Aspen Creek wasn’t on my radar. Most of the things that went bump in the night actively avoided the Marrok. That said, there were very few beings with a death wish quite like witches. Something about being power-hungry (and the Marrok held plenty of power) tended to result in bloodshed, the same could easily be said for werewolves.

When we had made the drive, we had been warned a wilding was missing. This wasn’t particularly uncommon, the wildings did sometimes disappear to die, not entirely unlike a house-cat. Some of them went out in a blaze of glory, and those ones were concerning. But even those “missing” were never actually missing. That Bran had no idea where this one had gone was out of character.

Of course, he’d also had other things on his mind. That was actually the reason we visited. Having been re-inducted into Marrok territory instead of floating as a little island on our own—an unfortunate result of some particularly polarizing political statements I had made—meant that Adam and I were asked to come to Montana.

I stood and shook myself off, the ground was going to leave a worse bruise than what the wilding had done before Adam jumped in.

The witch was out of my sight lines again. It made my ear twitch in frustration. I didn’t like not knowing where she was or what she was working. Adam was two-on-one because she’d already snagged Sherwood in her spell and that was a problem.

First problem was that he was two-on-one. The second, and maybe more pressing, was that Sherwood was not a far cry from Adam. They were, after all, connected. And both were connected to me.

Magic didn’t always work quite properly on me so I wasn’t sure whether to expect that to be a problem or not. It was possible I might be able to shield Adam at the very least.

I was too late to experiment with shielding pack, Sherwood was already gone.

My heart screamed at me to re-engage and help, but common sense overruled this time. I needed to find the witch. There were very few who could control wolves in some capacity similar to this. Personally, I knew of two and both were dead.

I kept my nose to the ground, beginning where I had seen her moment before I’d gone flying, and began tracking. I wasn’t a bloodhound, but black magic was gross enough to smell strongly everywhere it went. Hers had a twinge of familiarity to it, almost akin to a scent I associated with a farrier—the smell of burning hooves.

I picked up the pace because Adam was going to begin losing steam. The trail felt very similar to those Charles used to lay for me. She was far enough ahead of me from my time on the ground to have back-tracked, or maybe she had preset a trail moments before our encounter began.

Maybe we were the target.

No, that wouldn’t make sense. We were an easier target further away from here, further from town even. This was targeted, but her bullseye was Aspen Creek.

When I heard the sound of the truck, I nearly picked up a flat-out run. There was no way to get to her in a truck.

But then I halted.

The sound was almost certainly in the wrong direction. She hadn’t back-tracked that far without me knowing. Plus, the sound of the truck was familiar. It wasn’t the witch’s.

And she wouldn’t leave the vicinity of her captured wolves. I didn’t know what spell she’d caught them in, and some could probably overcome distance, but if her goal was the Marrok then she wouldn’t leave.

She definitely wouldn’t now.

I needed to find her before she found the Marrok. Or, otherwise, I needed to find him before she did.

Both Sherwood and Bran had witch blood and one would think that would give them some sort of resistance to capture by magic, similar to mine.

It didn’t.

It must have been a genetic predisposition to critical failure against witches. Bran, to my knowledge, had been under a witch’s control twice. Sherwood had been physically captured by witches at least once, it’s how he lost his leg, but I wasn’t overly familiar with how much his and Bran’d past overlapped.

The witch had doubled back again. Ground being frozen meant I didn’t have footprints to clue me in until the trail fizzled out. I growled in frustration and turned around. If I couldn’t find her, I could at least stop Bran.

Bran who had gotten my warning and come himself like he had forgotten everything witches were capable of instead of sending Charles.

Charles, the new father. I hadn’t realized he and Anna had adopted, we’d been cut off from Marrok territory for so long. The baby was almost a year old now and we’d just met her.

Maybe it was better Charles stay home and protect her, given what she was.

I was faster on four legs, shooting back into the fight despite my aching side. I stumbled when I shifted, barely taking a pause because she was there and he almost was as well.

It’s possible I should have stayed quiet instead of shouting at him to turn around. The witch hadn’t ensnared Adam yet—though I felt her magic poking at him through our connection to Sherwood and maybe she was depending on that—and it was possible she wouldn’t recognize Bran, not as a wolf. I knew the moment he’d left the truck. I’d heard him change.

All the more dangerous.

And too late. I barely got a word out before I watched him melt away.

Jesse had made a joke once about a girl she knew in college. Every time they went out, this girl posted photos on social media. Jesse called them “soft smile, dead eyes” photos.

Bran was dead eyes, no smile.

Not Bran. I reminded myself. I had never met the berserker and I was pretty sure I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t ever.

“No!” Because he’d lunged into the already snarling pack of furry bodies.

The wilding was dead but the two Cornicks were well alive and Bran hadn’t taken damage yet.

Witch or Adam.

Choice should have been witch again, like the time just before. Witch broke the spell. Witch saved everyone, including the entire continental United States potentially.

But I’d already reacted because I couldn’t waste time chasing her down.

I was on all four again a second later, sprinting into the first opening I could find against everything Adam was telling me in my head—mostly to get away and tell Charles.

Charles who should’ve been told to begin with. I never should have told Bran. I didn’t expect him to be so self-sacrificing this time, not with a witch involved, not given what I knew of his history.

What is the actual point of Leah if this can happen?

Teeth sunk into my neck and there was a fraction of a moment where I considered the fact I’d narrowly avoided paralysis yet again.

Of course, bleeding out was an option.

I was dropped nearly as immediately as the canine jaw broke skin, just as I could feel blood. Something hit Bran’s wolf like a freight train, knocking him over.

Adam.

I’d recognized the silver form anywhere.

In the second I could spare to watch them, I realized I’d met the Marrok’s eyes.

Bran’s eyes.

Not the dead ones.

Adrenaline could only get me so far, I was going to start fading fast because blood rained a little as I shook myself off again. I didn’t heal the way the others did.

Sherwood was back in the fray, seeming to have been momentarily wounded enough to hesitate. It was two-on-one again but this time in our favour.

I spotted the witch again, slightly removed and watching. There should have been a universe where it was safe to take her alive. I so desperately wanted to know what the final goal was here, it clearly wasn’t Bran because she had him and now she didn’t seem to understand that she had him no longer.

There was an extra aggressive snarl.

Adam had Sherwood pinned and Bran was missing. I had only looked away for a second.

Eyes back on the witch, I raced towards her. Blood was pounding in my ears and I didn’t hear whatever sort of curse she hurled my way, but I did manage to escape its clutch. It felt necrotic-almost, withering. I shivered, but kept running and her eyes widened when she realized whatever it was hadn’t worked.

And then Bran was on her from behind, eerily silent until she was thoroughly decapitated and more than a little dismembered.

It wasn’t until he sat back and licked his lips that I realized Adam and Sherwood had completely fallen silent.

Bran’s eyes, which I quickly glanced away from, were unamused.

I was in trouble.

***

Days later, Aspen Creek

“Tell me again the part where you swore you could break the curse if you were ordered to kill me and it didn’t work,” Charles sounded faintly amused about the situation. “But you touch a drop of Mercy’s blood and that’s it. You’re just fine again.”

[anna-scribbles]

inspired by recent events from my sister’s actual real life

[lazylittledragon]

you know what fuck it we’re doing dadstarion

[ridleymb]

Important

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie and Raven have a complex relationship

So! This is an AU where Dan is Trigon, and Ellie joined the Teen Titans. It's not really a Story, but I thought it was funny.

...

Robin: I have a Question for the two of you.

Ellie: What's up?

Raven: Hm?

Robin: You guys call eachother Sisters, Cousins, and in one case you called eachother Aunt and Niece. What's your exact relation?

Ellie: Well that's tricky. See, my Dad is the King of the Infinite Realms, and his true name is Danny. Raven's dad is Trigon, but his true name is Dante.

Robin: And are Danny and Dante brothers?

Raven: No, not technically. See, Dante is an Evil Alternate Future Version of Danny, so they are technically the same Person. But then Dante came to the past, got beaten by Danny, and got shoved into a Mortal body for a while.

Ellie: If that was all, they we could just call eachother Sisters or Cousins. Our Dad's are technically the Same Person, but they consider eachother Brothers.

Raven: Except Ellie isn't a normal daughter.

Robin: What? How?

Ellie: I'm technically a Clone if Danny, not his Daughter. So I'm simultaneously Raven's Sister, Cousin, and Parent since I'm a Copy of a version of her Dad, but I could also be considered her Aunt since Danny and I called eachother siblings before we decided I was his Daughter.

Raven: So Ellie is my Sister/Cousin/Aunt/Mom/Dad.

Robin: ...what the hell.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

It was easy to lure the newest Titan away from the rest, back the boy into a corner. He was the weakest link, the newest hero, the easiest to manipulate-

Then, the ghost child transformed, glowing rings passing over his body to reveal a familiar black-haired boy. "Uncle Slade, what the fuck are you doing?"

[metatronhateblog]

Can't help but sometimes sit here and think about the rainbow above Aziraphale in the Job episode. What rainbow you might ask? This rainbow silly!

What's that you say? You don't see anything? Computer, enhance.

Still not seeing it? Let me adjust the contrast and saturation here a minute...

There it is. That little rainbow above our angel.

I spend an unnecessary amount of time thinking about him and his rainbow

[crustyfloor]

A new pop-up store dropped for ALIEN STAGE's 2nd anniversary and wow. It's so sick.

It's Interesting what exactly these experiments are focusing on and monitoring.

Instrument practice

I found it interesting earlier that Till was so tame, more so than he usually is when he's going through experiments, but music, and making music is what he loves doing, So he was fully in his element here. This was probably the only thing he was made to do by the aliens that he at least tolerated.

(Additionally, judging by his collar (orange), he was at least calm. maybe he just isn't fazed anymore.)

//Side note, that head contraption looks familiar BUT this most likely isn't related at least i hope

(It puts me at ease, at least..)

Dance practice

This surprised me, but I suppose Mizi needed more skills.

She looks very startled here, and nervous(?) +It looks like she's doing this while singing. And with that face covering I assume this was a test monitoring her dance balance, precision, etc. At first, I did think it was odd, "Why would Shine put her through that" But alas I was reminded that even though Mizi is the flower of the group she was never untouchable, to Shine, this was the equivalent of teaching your dog to sit and stay.

(seeing this it reminded me of those scenes in movies where the people are dancing, and the music gets faster and faster until they fall. I wonder if she was doing through something similar to that)

Singing practice (?)

Similar to Till she also looks quite calm outwardly, if the machine around her neck is an iteration of the collars they have, then this process wasn't something she liked, or given how intense this experiment looks, this was a test of high-pressure to ensure she always stayed calm during performances (?). Then again this could also be a posture practice given all the structure focused on maintaining her position.

(What I believe was another form of this test was shown before so I think so)

(With her hands in a praying stance I wonder if she was praying to herself or singing a religious song (sweet dream?) It's also interesting that the machinery around her looks like a halo, and she looks so...angelic? holy?)

Image making practice

By image making, I think they made Ivan replicate expressions with his face. Whether this process was painful for him or not...I'm not sure. But it looked visibly uncomfortable, maybe that was the point. (His expression, even in this circumstance is so dubious..)

Ivan, among other things, needed to have a spotless appearance to be successful, his image was a priority given his skills were certainly guaranteed.

I assume the aliens eventually took note of his lack of expression, in the real world this can be a detriment to one's career, so the Aliens had to ensure quality was perfect. (To a more...dedicated level)

Superiority test

'Superiority test' Is very vague.

HyunA is very calm here too, likely sedated in that water with all the tablets on her. I guess this was a test to get an idea of a pet human's strengths and weaknesses, endurance, and temperament to compare and contrast them with others, testing who is more viable for Alien stage?

Another interesting, and sad part about this is that HyunWoo was there, watching his sister through her experiments.

(Also, it looks like both of her legs are normal, no alien leg yet.)

Heart rate variability

And finally, the most visceral of them all. The wording 'variability' makes this all the more sickening, the Aliens were testing his heart hours, testing it at different rates, speeds, and states. And he was in agony the entire time. Even the way he's clutching his chest, it gives me chills. This would've been a completely harmless test in a normal setting, as something quite similar to this can be performed efficiently in real life. But he's being tortured in the process.

This is one of the first times we've ever seen Luka's face so truly clear and unprotected, (understandably so.) He's even crying.

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Kate to Anthony:

Kate, since she got married to Anthony:

[copypastus]

Feyre's selective hearing is the origin of my villain arc.

[flamingpudding]

That's my baby brother you attacked

Jazz stood in her Fenton Ghost Peeler Suit and crossed arms before a group of Gothams vigilantes. Her little brother was hugging her around the shoulder, in his Phantom form and floating. His face pressed into her shoulder and letting out quite ghostly whines couple with her name in ghost speech. He was clearly distressed.

With crossed arms, she glared at Gotham's vigilantes. They stood before her as a group. But the front took... Nightwing? She believed that was the name he used to introduce himself, who had the current Robin clinging to his arm. The kid looked as distressed as her brother, and normally, she would care to help, but right now, she was in protective sister mode. HER brother came first.

"We really mean no harm. It's just Robin and the others mistook him for a clone, and we would like to-"

"No." She cut the guy off. She glanced at HER baby brother, still refusing to look up and face the situation as he made another ghostly whine, before looking back at the group of vigilantes.

"I can see how they could be related." She raised an eyebrow below the visor at how hopeful the groups stance became. They don't know Danny's human form, but that's the excuse they use for attack her brother? They assumed he was a clone just because he looked like the inverted image of one of them? Fat chance that she would let them anywhere near him now. "But, you attacked MY baby brother-"

"And we are very sorry about that!" Nightwing cut in but Jazz ignored it.

"The point is you attacked him. I don't care if they are related. This is MY baby brother and if that is their reaction on seeing him and handling his own ghost rogues. I will NOT allow them to be part of his life unless Phantom wants it himself."

Turning around, she pat her baby brothers head and whispered to him in ghost speech. "Common Danny, let's go. Let's visit that planetarium you wanted to see later. After that we never have to come to Gotham again, I can go to another university somewhere far away from here."

They didn't know Phantom was Danny Nightingale, neither did they know that she was Jasmine Nightingale. This would be a one-time meeting and stay that way. Her baby brother did not need people like that in his life after the falling out with their parents they had.

[art-t0n]

A little early for halloween…

[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[sage-nebula]

She still doesn't get it. She just doesn't get it!

Vi. Sweetheart. Bruiser with a head as thick as her fists. Your sister is not "gone." Your sister grew up. And, as all people do when they grow up, she changed. This is something she told you when you first reunited with her:

"Things changed when you left. I changed."

Of course, you dismissed her, saying she just did what she had to in order to survive. Which, yes, but also no. Six years passed between when you were taken from her and when you saw her next, and those were her formative years. Formative, meaning forming who she is as a person, a growing and grown person, because time moves ever forward and no one stays a little girl forever.

Now, does this mean you have to like the person your sister changed into? No. Certainly, your sister doesn't like you putting on an enforcer uniform to help oppress the people of Zaun so you can live a cushy life in Piltover with your new girlfriend. But she still IS your sister. Yes, she changed her name to one that lets her reclaim something traumatic from her past. Yes, she's decided to fully move on and look toward the future now. But her past is still part of her. She doesn't have dissociative identity disorder. "Powder" and "Jinx" were never two separate people. She's the same person, and always has been. She was only ever torn between trying to go back to her past life with you, or accepting her present and future — and she has chosen the latter.

But she is still, and always will be, your sister. Something she knows ("Finally got the name right, sister"), even if you, for some reason, have a very hard time understanding this very simple concept.

Get it together.