#I have almost certainly asked this before but I am up stupid late and thinking so

[knight-princess]

Do the Tir Asleen and Galladoorn monarchies stay on after Elora becomes Empress like they just become another tier of nobility or do they just disappear in light of Her Royal Highness the Sacred Princess popping up out of the woodwork to assume her magical duties

[turtlecleric]

doomsday

Bayverse, angst, hurt/no comfort

CW: reference to death of a parent/grief

-

You’re almost finished getting ready when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Whirling around, momentary panic makes your pulse spike before you recognize Leo standing in the doorway to your bedroom.

You laugh, partly at yourself for startling so easily and partly in relief that it’s him, before rushing over to him, shoving (ineffectually) at his plastron for good measure. In your defense, he hadn’t said he was going to escort you. Not that you’re complaining; seeing your boyfriend always makes you smile, even when he’s being a sneaky asshole.

“You scared me, you big jerk!”

This is the part where he smiles. Apologizes. Pulls you into his arms and makes some smartass remark about how you should really pay more attention to your surroundings.

“...Sorry.”

He’s not smiling. Why isn’t he smiling?

“I was just about to head to the lair. I’m not late, am I?” You check the time on your phone, but- but no. Even if you spent another 15 minutes fussing with your hair, you’d still have enough time to leave and make it to the lair on time for movie night. You look back up at Leo, waiting for an explanation, but he just stares at you. Silent.

“You okay, Blue?” You search his face, but you can’t read him like you normally can. His expression is something you’ve never seen; something steely. Distant. “Leo? What’s-”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

The words don’t register for a long, long moment. When they do, you wait for- you don’t know what. For him to say he’s kidding? For your alarm to go off, waking you up from a weirdly vivid nightmare? You don’t know. You don’t know anything, apparently. You thought he was happy.

You certainly were.

“What?”

His answer is immediate, just as firm as the first time. “This is over. You’re no longer welcome at the lair. Donnie has already deleted our numbers and any past conversations from your phone. We need to maintain our anonymity, so please don’t try to contact us again.”

Seconds stretch into little eternities as you try to push past the vice that’s abruptly closed around your throat, as you try to untangle the fishing line that seems to have wrapped itself around your lungs. A million conflicting thoughts ricochet around in your mind. This can’t be real. This was inevitable. This can’t be real, he would never do this. Why did you ever think he would stay with someone like you? He said he was in this for life. What did you do? What changed? How could he do this? How could you possibly blame him when it’s you? You’ve ruined this, somehow, and you want to ask him why, but - does it even matter? Of course it does. Of course it doesn’t. It’s you, you’re the problem. It’s always been you.

You unlock your phone, navigating with numb fingers. It’s true. Their contacts are gone. Over a year’s worth of messages, too. Gone. Like they never happened. You think back, trying to remember - too late, it’s too late, now - realizing it’s been a few days since you heard from any of them. It’s not like you talk every day, but- but you were busy with work, you didn’t- you didn’t even realize. No one has messaged you in days. You’d be able to catch up on movie night. On movie night, just like every other Friday, just like always, you’d thought. You’d thought.

How could you be so stupid?

A mess of emotions you can’t name. Heavy. Sharp. You can’t breathe. You’ve felt heartbreak before - was it always this painful? Has it been so long that you forgot how much it hurts? The floor is firm beneath your feet, but surely you’ve been sucked into the darkness of the Earth. Surely. But no, you’re still here. Your apartment hasn’t changed at all, the city still stands; it just feels like the world is ending. You’re fine. It’s fine. You shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable. What did you expect? It’s you. It’s always been you.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You look back up at him, but his form quickly blurs along with the rest of your bedroom. He always hated seeing you cry, but when you blink the tears away his expression hasn’t changed at all. Was that a lie? You don’t know.

All the while he just stares at you. Patient, and silent, and clinical. Shouldn’t he be upset, too? At least a little? How long has he been planning this? It’s been days since any of them reached out, you remember. How long have their contacts been missing? Is it because you didn’t reach out?

“Leo.” Breathe. Breathe. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry-”

“You didn’t do anything. I’m just not in love with you,” he says evenly. Like he’s pointing out a fact. The sky is blue. You’re running low on detergent. I don’t love you. I never did. “I don’t want to waste your time, and, frankly, I don’t want to waste mine, either. I’m sorry, I know this is difficult, but I think it’s best if we just end it now before we get too attached.”

Too attached? Is that what you are? It must be. It must be.

He doesn’t sound sorry.

You manage to nod, wiping at your eyes. You’re not sure why you bother; the tears just keep coming. Another little eternity, and then he’s turning to go. Of course. He’s a busy guy. Why would he stay? Why would he waste his time watching you fall apart over something that obviously isn’t a big deal? Too attached. You must be. It’s you. It’s always been you.

He’s turning to go, and you- you’ll never see him again. Is this what burning alive feels like? You can’t breathe past the fishing line. Stop him. No, don’t be pathetic. He was very clear. You should respect his wishes. Stop him.

You watch him open the window. Watch him grip the windowsill, about to disappear for the last time.

“I would’ve married you,” you whisper.

He halts in his movement. A little eternity. His hands are still gripping the windowsill. “I know.”

Then he’s gone. And you’re alone again.

-

He makes it no farther than the third rooftop before Raph appears, shoving him hard enough to make him stumble.

“I knew you were a dumbass, Leo, but I didn’t know you were this stupid! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Leo rights himself, glaring. God damn it, Donnie. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Go back in there and tell her the truth.”

“I did. Besides, this isn’t your concern. Don shouldn’t have even told you, it’s my business.”

Raph huffs a humorless laugh, shaking his head and pacing. “You’re so goddamn stupid,” he mutters before facing Leo again, gesturing broadly as he speaks. “And a liar. You’re in love with that girl, and by some fucking miracle she’s also in love with you. You’re throwing that away? For what?!”

“I told you: this isn’t. Your. Concern. Go home, Raph. That’s a direct order.”

He expects Raph to bristle at that, but… he doesn’t. The fight visibly drains from him instead, and when he speaks again his words are sharp in a different way. “He wouldn’t have wanted this. You know that.”

“Don’t.”

“Master Splinter was happy that you were happy. He loved her. And if he knew what you just did? How cruel you just were to that poor girl? He’d be-”

“Shut up, Raph,” Leo snarls, the careful composure falling away. Chipping paint. “You don’t speak for him, and you certainly don’t have the right to comment on my relationships.”

Again, Leo expects yelling, or a fist sent his way - he’s ready for it, welcomes it, even - but Raph just sighs. His voice is too quiet, Leo thinks, when he responds. “We miss him, too, Leo.”

Leo closes his eyes, trying to ignore the gaping maw in his chest, to breathe past the ache. It doesn’t work. It hasn’t worked. Not once.

When he opens his eyes again, Raph is still looking at him like he’s some fragile thing. He’s not. He’s not.

“Go home.” Leo doesn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and running.

He keeps breathing.

-

Taglist: @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @luckycharms1701 @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @mxalmighty @shakeyourtrees @thelaundrybitch @silverwatergalaxy

[eldritch-spouse]

[There's something in my drafts I'm hardly going to finish, so I'll just leave this here.]

Full: Option 1; Option 2

TW: Degradation; Public humiliation

You meet behind the local mall.

The same one he first stalked you in, of course. You're a sentimental sap, after all, but it also helps you remember to not feel bad about anything you do to Patches. He's just a creep, always been one, and creeps don't deserve anything.

Certainly not when they arrive 10 minutes after the scheduled time.

You watch him meekly trudge towards you, slightly shadowed by the more secluded nature of this location. Patches has the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing his own arm and refusing to make eye contact while his old boots all but drag on the rocky ground.

He listened to your advice from last time, at least, making an effort to look more normal by wearing only his shirt and pants. Putting aside the garish shoe wear and the fucking ridiculous hat he refuses to part ways with, he could almost blend in well enough with other monsters.

This style of clothing isn't his preference, if the way he's shrinking even more into himself is any indication.

" Oh goodie, look who finally decided to show up! "

The dullahan immediately starts scratching at the bold veins on his arms, irritating the pockets of magic beneath his skin.

" I- I'm so sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to be late- It's- My... " He chokes a little. " My work... There was a- "

" Did I ask for excuses? "

Your tone is your most powerful weapon. In the flip of a switch, sugary, sardonic babying can become a bitter, chilling warning. It always seems to catch the undead's breath.

" No, ma'am... "

" You know, this happens a lot Patches. I'm starting to think that maybe you don't want to see me at all. "

The words make him panic, wide sockets peeking from his downturned hat to gouge the seriousness of your words.

" Ne- Never never! I lov- "

" Then don't waste my time. " You smile. " Are you getting cocky because I happen to find you mildly entertaining? Do you think you have a shot with any woman out there? " You speak as if you're addressing a crippled animal. " Oh, you dumb little thing, there's nothing in that head except seeds, hm? "

There's already some color around his face. " ... Yes, ma'am. "

" Good. " Your hand reaches to pet him under the chin. " Good boy, we keep our expectations in reality, don't we? We know you're just a loser, and losers don't get to waste anyone's time. That's rude, isn't it? "

Just this once, you allow him to nod instead of verbally answering.

There's a silent beat, before one stocking clad leg raises and your heel collides with his knee, sending the monster tumbling down. It wasn't a particularly strong hit, just something to make him smarten up.

Properly trained, Patches stays down, looking up at you with poorly masked anticipation.

" Well come on, dummy. " A foot taps against the ground, shiny black pumps that he bought you, with a small moon-shaped jewel on the front. They're pretty, his eyes twinkle with happiness just looking at them on your feet. " We're not going home until I feel like you're sorry enough. "

Patches knows what to do. He flattens to the ground like no more than a worm. Anyone could realistically pass by this nook and see him prostrated before some woman, slimy green tongue out to polish already spotless shoes.

Annoyed, you swat that large hat away, putting it on yourself instead.

" My hat-! "

" How am I supposed to know if you're doing a good job if I can't see you? " He looks back down, defeated. " God, you're so stupid. "

That gets him to work. The dullahan is nothing if not dedicated, quickly getting into the task. He lavishes the sides of your pumps, tongue flirting with your skin and hands twitching on concrete when you warningly 'tsk'. The length of them is peppered in carved kisses, and he pays special attention to the jewels, huffing with what you already know to be pure neediness. His drool leaves a translucent yet slightly green sheen behind, which looks almost pretty under the light.

Or maybe you're just mildly depraved.

Not as much as Patches, at least.

" What a good job you're doing down there! " You coo, the same way you would at a golden retriever that just handed you its paw. " You've always been good at this, maybe it should be your new profession, hah. "

He makes some kind of breathy mewl, now just retracing his earlier work. You figure that's enough for now.

" Okay okay, stop, I can almost forgive you. "

Patches looks back up at you. " Almost M- Ma'am? "

" Stick your tongue out. "

He does, a rather lengthy magical muscle protruding from that gourd head. You suppose, had you the means to, you'd also give yourself a rather large tongue.

" On the ground. "

The undead makes a face, lowering it as told and likely getting a nasty flavorful of whatever filth has touched the concrete before.

One heel rises, the flat end of your sole perching against his face, the pointed end swiftly descending into that exposed clapper. You make sure to grind it in, sink it, hearing his garbled cries as Patches instinctively tries to retract his tongue. He doesn't know what to do with his own head while trapped like this, the lights in his sockets blurring when tears form around the edges, painting his face.

You don't stop until he's sobbing quietly, shaking yet defeated.

" There we go. I think I can like you again. You're always so obedient... "

Your heel punctured deep enough that you kind of have to give it a shake to release the dullahan's tongue. He makes another pained whine before moving back, holding the damaged muscle as it limply hangs off his wide mouth. It's a tad dirty, but the most striking detail is the hole on top of its flat surface, oozing some kind of thick gel that you can't quite call blood.

He rises awkwardly, back still curved, trying to wipe his own summoned tongue clean before putting it back in his mouth and swallowing his own magic.

" Huh, you could almost pierce it, pumpkin. I bet that'd look good on you. "

And like the flattery-hungry loser he is, Patches smiles faintly through the pain.

Your eyes rake down and find what comes as no surprise. He's already more than hard. In a way, it's kind of better this way, not having to work at all to get him in such a shameful state. You could give Patches a look, and he'd probably begin chubbing in seconds. The problem is keeping it that way, and preventing him from getting excited enough to end things prematurely. Your new pet won't become a disappointment, surely. Not if his discipline continues.

A decently sized cock strains against the tight fabric of his pants, already forming an unsightly patch -Hah- of wetness. You've always liked one thing about him. Well, that's a lie, you enjoy lots of things about Patches. But- The way the prominent veins along his body continue into his endowment is also very pleasing. It makes you want to hurry things along, in spite of your modus operandi of grinding out the maximum potential of every second in these encounters.

" Try not to ruin your pants before we get home, okay sweetie? " You mock. " Did you bring it, by the way? "

The dullahan nods frantically, waving his hands in front of him in a specific pattern that, upon the snap of his index and middle finger, summons forth a collar.

This velvet dark green circle with intricate leaf patterns on its exterior. Two small white jewels frame the silver hoop where the chained leash in your purse attaches. You spent some time designing this beautiful adornment, more time than he deserves really, oh but it's in your nature to be a perfectionist. There were some hiccups. Particularly around the fact that dullahans are apparently frightened by gold... Your first purchase was trashed immediately, needless to say.

Last time you met, Patches had forgotten his collar. This was a grave offense to you, punishable by sharply diminishing his time with you. See, to truly punish this undead, you can't just promise him pain or ruined pleasure, he enjoys those. To upset him, to make consequences tangible, you deny him your time- And it's wonderfully effective!

Exhibit A, Patches has remembered to bring his collar today, after the previous session lasting only half an hour.

" Good boy! Perfect. See? You can learn. " He actually preens at that. " Now put it on. "

When you clip the leash to the monster, he's staring deep into your eyes, sockets pulsing heart-shaped lights as his breath becomes shallow and hot. Oh yeah, he's checking out already.

Good.

" Walk. "

[edenmemes]

red dead redemption 1 starters

❝ it’s wanting that gets so many folks in trouble. ❞ ❝ it ain’t no secret i didn’t get these scars falling over in church. ❞ ❝ if you win power, remember why you wanted it. ❞ ❝ you do a man wrong, he’ll shoot you for it. you do a man right…well, he still may shoot you for it. ❞ ❝ trust me. there’s things you’re better off not knowing. ❞ ❝ you remind me a lot of myself. how i used to be. stubborn and angry. ❞ ❝ i hope you will give me some warning if you get the sudden urge to kill me. ❞ ❝ my side wasn’t chosen. my side was given. ❞ ❝ a little sore, but apart from a couple extra scars, it will be as nothing happened. ❞ ❝ i don’t think you’re a bad person. a little stupid perhaps, but not rotten. ❞ ❝ i certainly don’t mind you asking, if you don’t mind me not telling. ❞ ❝ you are being deliberately obscure as a substitute for having a personality. ❞ ❝ so do tell me, have you needlessly risked your life since we last spoke? ❞ ❝ i came into this world fighting. and i’ll go out of it fighting. ❞ ❝ i hear you speak and suddenly i'm reminded of how the people i respected most in my life had a problem with authority. ❞ ❝ you're looking much better. considering you were almost buzzard food a couple days ago. ❞ ❝ power is like a drink. the more you have, the more you want. ❞ ❝ people don’t forget. nothing gets forgiven. ❞ ❝ sometimes in the service of what is right, you got to do terrible things. ❞ ❝ you have quite a story. i really am a little jealous. ❞ ❝ old friends make the worst enemies. ❞ ❝ i had everything, and gave it up in the pursuit of nothing. ❞ ❝ hah. you were always bad at lying. ❞ ❝ i’m not going to stand by and watch good people suffer. ❞ ❝ some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that. ❞ ❝ if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging. ❞ ❝ now, if you don't mind, i'd hate to spoil such a beautiful afternoon on such beautiful land with any further unpleasantries. ❞ ❝ i, too, have a family, friend. and so that we may see our families again i suggest we part ways amicably. ❞ ❝ sometimes i tell myself that everything happens for a reason. ❞ ❝ i see the good in everybody. it’s a flaw of mine. ❞ ❝ well, try not to get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ see if you can keep your gun holstered for once. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay much attention to rumors. ❞ ❝ i swear, if it was down to me, i’d never have gone anywhere. ❞ ❝ lock all the doors. whatever happens, don’t come outside. you hear me? whatever happens. ❞ ❝ what would you care? i’m just a nuisance to you anyway. ❞ ❝ i’ve been hearing some things about you. ❞ ❝ i would rather be dead than a cynic like you. ❞ ❝ damn, a little gratitude wouldn’t kill you. ❞ ❝ trust me, i ain’t no hero. ❞ ❝ as it turns out, it's you or me. the way i see it, might as well be you. ❞ ❝ you live in a dream world. it ain’t like they tell it in books. ❞ ❝ i’m asking you to do what i say, before you get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ those who sit on the fence make a choice…in their own way. ❞ ❝ i’d do anything for you, you know that. ❞ ❝ better watch your mouth, my friend. i've cut out a man's tongue for less. ❞ ❝ there's nothing worse than a nobody thinking he's a somebody. ❞ ❝ you got it all wrong. i’ve always loved you, even now. ❞ ❝ what the hell were you thinking, going off on your own? ❞ ❝ first impressions are hard to erase. ❞ ❝ it’s a long story. too long to tell without a drink in my hand. ❞ ❝ i’m not angry. i’m disappointed. ❞ ❝ you know me. i’ll be late to my own funeral. ❞ ❝ that tone of voice ain’t so becoming on you. makes you seem all pent up and angry. ❞ ❝ you think i don’t know who you are. ❞ ❝ why don’t i get a warm and tender embrace? ❞ ❝ what do you want me to say? yippee? ❞ ❝ there’s always a choice. you’re just too blind to see. ❞ ❝ you’re not ready for that yet. one step at a time. ❞ ❝ every time you go off, i worry you’re not coming back. ❞ ❝ it didn’t have to be this way. ❞ ❝ come on now. try to look on the bright side. ❞

❝ after all i taught you…i’m ashamed. ❞ ❝ it’s easy to make promises you can never keep. ❞ ❝ we all make mistakes. i never claimed to be a saint. ❞ ❝ how does it feel to kill hundreds of men in cold blood? ❞ ❝ it ain’t the first time i had a gun to my head. ❞ ❝ you’re not perfect, and i’m sure not. but you’re better than they are. ❞ ❝ you alright? you’re not hurt, are you? ❞ ❝ this really couldn’t have gone more horribly wrong. ❞ ❝ you’re just like me. you can’t change who you are. ❞ ❝ my whole life, all i ever did was fight. ❞ ❝ you’re in no position to make demands. ❞ ❝ the bright side? there ain’t no bright side. ❞ ❝ my heart’s beating like a drum. ❞ ❝ are you sure you’re alright? i mean, i know all that business must have been hard on you. ❞ ❝ you’ll make me blush with all these kind words. ❞ ❝ i never took you for the jealous type. ❞ ❝ come now, you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid. ❞ ❝ you’re weak. you always were. you never had the stomach for this. ❞ ❝ seems real quiet, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ you were always a hard and nasty man. ❞ ❝ see, i have nothing but your best intentions at heart. ❞ ❝ don’t talk about things you don’t understand. ❞ ❝ i guess there’s only one room for one hero in this family. ❞ ❝ for a wise man, you are a really stupid man. ❞ ❝ what would have happened if i hadn’t come along? ❞ ❝ you must have mistaken me for someone else, friend. ❞ ❝ you ain’t very talkative, are you? ❞ ❝ we cannot be too careful. the world is very dangerous. ❞ ❝ no, i’m not okay. do i look like i’m okay? ❞ ❝ you are so tense all the time. come, let’s have some fun! ❞ ❝ i will stay and fight. i am ready to die if necessary. ❞ ❝ i know i can’t change the past but i’m sure gonna do something about the future. ❞ ❝ i’ve given you no reason not to trust me. ❞ ❝ choose your tone rightly. remember who you’re talking to. ❞ ❝ there are guards everywhere. if they see you, they will kill you. ❞ ❝ it was nothing. i’m not a kid any more.❞ ❝ a lonely, forsaken place. some people say it’s haunted. ❞ ❝ i’m not sure your idea of paradise and mine are the same. ❞ ❝ maybe if you were more cordial to folks, they’d be better inclined to help you. ❞ ❝ i’ve been in far worse situations. ❞ ❝ you have the exterior of a violent man, but the soul of an angel. ❞ ❝ you’re not gonna pass out on me, are you? ❞ ❝ you’re no better. how many men have you killed? ❞ ❝ stay alert. something doesn’t feel right. ❞

❝ i'm going to hand you over to them and watch them tear you limb from limb…i'm just kidding. ❞ ❝ you love to talk badly of other people because it makes you feel better about yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s been a pleasure spending time with you. ❞ ❝ that’s a lot of sacrifice. i just hope it’s worth it. ❞ ❝ i’m not cut out for this. no, not cut out for this at all. ❞ ❝ i don’t need you to show me. ❞ ❝ men are born, and then they're formed. at least, that’s how i see it. ❞ ❝ a little flattery…now we’re finally getting somewhere. ❞ ❝ i thought you were supposed to be fearless. ❞ ❝ you are a man who has lost his spirit. ❞ ❝ if you were less secretive, people might be more inclined to trust you. ❞ ❝ me mean me no harm? this is funny. what harm could you do to me, exactly? ❞ ❝ come on, after everything we’ve been through, i think we can trust each other, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i can’t rightly believe it. just like in the books. ❞ ❝ i didn’t ask for your help back there. i owe you nothing. ❞ ❝ be careful. what’s stopping me from killing you? ❞ ❝ one day, i promise you, you’re gonna regret this. ❞ ❝ you know i’ll do whatever i can, but i have problems of my own. ❞ ❝ what would you know about leadership? ❞ ❝ you make a choice by not making a choice, you know. ❞ ❝ hold your excuses until you figure out which one to use. ❞ ❝ i'll give you a bad case of "someone just shot me in the head" if you don't hurry up. ❞ ❝ being honest though, this tastes bad enough to kill a man. ❞ ❝ do i look like i need saving? ❞ ❝ sarcasm should be beneath a man such as you. ❞ ❝ are you always this stupid or are you making an extra effort today? ❞ ❝ i don’t like to kill a man on his knees, even if he deserves it. ❞ ❝ don't forget you need me more than i need you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you to hell and back. ❞ ❝ you’d best not be lying to me. ❞ ❝ let's get going. before the weather gets any worse. that sky don't look good.. ❞ ❝ thank you for telling me all that back there. it must have been hard for you. ❞ ❝ i know we ain't exactly old pals, but…have i ever done you wrong? ❞ ❝ your nobility's almost as affecting as your naivety. ❞ ❝ you are a romantic who wants to be a cynic. ❞ ❝ i apologize if i seem to be prying. ❞ ❝ strange place for a decent person to visit, if you don't mind me saying. ❞ ❝ well, you must admit…it's an unusual start to a friendship. ❞ ❝ i can’t really say i understand you. ❞ ❝ every man has a right to change, a chance of forgiveness. ❞ ❝ hello, old friend. it’s been a long time. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand now why i've been playing my cards somewhat close to my chest. ❞ ❝ nobody made my path but me. ❞ ❝ it’ll be a piece of cake. trust me. ❞ ❝ oh, don’t be so deliberately enigmatic. ❞ ❝ my word, what a difficult life you’ve lived. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ stay and fight me, you coward. ❞ ❝ i ain't planning on staying very long. ❞

[magicalbats]

Day 14: Orgasm Denial

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7925

Warnings: Afab!reader, (lots of) gendered language, social power dynamics, boss/employee, upperclass/lowerclass, tbh I’m not entirely sure how to tag some of this xmdkxkdnd, manual masturbation, dacryphilia, I wanted reader to be a bit of a bimbo in this one so if she seems stupid that’s why lol

A/N: sorry this one is late! I am officially behind on my prompts now but regardless of how long it takes I WILL be completing this Kinktober challenge! Unfortunately the real world demands attention sometimes but I’m not giving up 😤

⭐

Stamping down the urge to nervously fiddle with your hands, you clutch at the front of your arpon to keep them still and try very hard to focus on what the man in front of you is saying. The Palais Mermonia housed a great many regular faces, some of which you only saw from time to time and could not seem to commit to memory, and yet you’d been seeing mister Danon’s more and more often than anyone else’s recently. You didn’t understand why that would be though, and had at first written it off as mere coincidence. A simple matter of happenstance and nothing more. 

But then it kept happening at an ever increasing frequency until it seemed like you were running into him almost every day now. Only then had it occurred to you, in a far off, distant sort of way, that he must have been making a concerted effort to talk with you like this. That was the only reasonable explanation for it that you could glean, because the one person you saw at the Palais with any amount of real regularity was the honorable Iudex himself and certainly not the man who’s job description you could not seem to recall. But that didn’t exactly explain why. 

You wanted to understand what would make him seek you out like this, so you attentively listen to mister Danon when he speaks even though you sometimes find him a bit difficult to follow. He seemed like he was probably a good person and respectable enough, but he had a strange habit of jumping from topic to topic without much rhyme or reason that you could discern. One moment he would be talking to you about matters of work, about documents he needed to have signed or the latest gossip that had everyone all in a buzz, and the next … why, he would suddenly say something off hand about recreational activities to do in the city or places to dine, a book he’d read recently and even the types of food he fancied. 

It was all very strange, and listening to him talk does not help in the slightest. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse. 

You didn’t have the slightest idea why he would want to discuss upcoming stageplays with you nor why he should feel the need to announce that his favorite dish was aspic as if it was something that should be of great interest to you. It was all really quite strange. 

“You see, if you take a few fish when they’re still flopping around and fresh,” He tells you, eagerly gesturing his way through an explanation you hadn’t asked for. “That will guarantee their taste and ensure your aspic comes out just divine. Like something straight from the Gods themselves, if you want the honest truth of it. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything more sumptuous!” 

“A - ah,” You make a valid attempt to smile politely but it was difficult to keep up with him like this. What did you care for the precise steps to make such an unappetizing sounding dish? 

“You know, if you were interested, cherie … I could make it for you to try, if you would like. Ah, what I mean is — it might be nice if we can sit down together and chat over a meal at my residence. Just the two of us.”

Your brows slowly crawl straight up to your hairline. “Oh.” 

Before you can think to say anything else, an attention grabbing thud against the marble floor makes you spin around and a smile quickly overtakes your face. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It is a pleasure to see you today.”

The kindly man sends you a slow, vaguely bemused half-smile. “Good afternoon, mademoiselle. Mister Danon. You looked like you were having a rather lively conversation just now. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?” 

“Of course not, monsieur. It was nothing important at all.” You beam up at him, eager and happy to hang on his every word no matter how benign or minuscule. Much to your surprise, though, he sends another unreadable look over your shoulder and when you turn back to Danon you’re more than a little surprised to find him slouched as if in defeat. Your eyebrows quickly make the climb up to your hairline again. “Mister Danon, are you alright? Goodness, you suddenly look quite unwell.” 

“Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about.” He waves off your concern, but it doesn’t escape your notice that he makes a concerted effort not to look directly at you now and instead turns his attention towards monsieur Neuvillette. “Forgive me, your honor. I’m afraid I must be going now. My break is almost over and my presence will be sorely missed if I fail to show up on time.”

The stately Iudex inclines his chin in a brief nod of acknowledgment. “You needn’t apologize, mister Danon. On behalf of all of Fontaine, thank you for the hard work you do.” 

Giving monsieur Neuvillette a stiff bow, he turns to do the same to you. “Mademoiselle.” 

You quickly bob a perplexed curtsy back. “Monsieur?” 

Ignoring or perhaps not hearing the question in your voice, Danon pivots on his heel and makes a hasty retreat down the long corridor without so much as a backwards glance. You can’t seem to shake the feeling you’ve said or done something wrong though, and you watch him go with a tiny flutter of anxiety in your chest until another soft thud of monsieur Neuvillette’s cane on the marble floor pulls you around again. 

With a small frown in place, you tip your head back to look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

He offers you a small, gentle smile, no doubt meant to placate and soothe, though it does little in the way of good. “Please do not look so put out, mademoiselle. Would you like to accompany me to my office?” 

Nodding, you fall into step beside him. You find yourself listlessly fiddling with your hands now, unable to stop it when it felt like you'd made some horrible faux pas, and they anxiously flit over your front to smooth out invisible wrinkles. What a strange and confusing situation to end up in, and with no idea how to navigate it either. It seemed like you’d done the exact opposite of what you’d initially set out to do … you didn’t understand it in the slightest. 

“Forgive me for asking you such a strange question so suddenly, but … did I say something to offend mister Danon just now?” 

Noising a quiet sound of consideration, monsieur Neuvillette thinks on that for a brief moment. “I am certainly no expert on the topic, mademoiselle, but if I am not mistaken I do believe mister Danon harbors a romantic interest in you. I believe he may have felt slighted when you said what you were discussing was of no importance, and he took it as a sign of rejection.” 

You jerk to a sudden halt with an inelegant scuffle of your heels. “Romantic?” Eyes widening in mute horror, you feel your cheeks start to grow uncomfortably warm. That did make sense, you were more than just a little stunned to realize. The way he made the effort to find you wherever you were working, stop you and talk to you; the way he would casually sprinkle in bits and pieces of his personal life and subtly suggest food, diners, places to go and things to do … had he really been laying out suggestions this whole time hoping you would show an interest in him back? But — “But he never said … oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I had no idea!” 

He looks at you with a soft, sympathetic smile where he’d stopped half a pace in front of you. “It is alright if you didn’t know. Situations like these can be difficult to — parse sometimes, and I do not think you acted with malicious intent. Come, let us continue this over a cup of tea.” 

Embarrassed and roiling with a crushing sense of guilt, you slowly trail after the Iudex to his large, exquisitely furnished office where you quickly fall into your usual habit of preparing the chinaware while he situates himself on the ornate lounge. It is muscle memory alone that sees you through your task, motions practiced and subconscious after working at the Palais for so long, which comes as a great relief in that moment. You were far too preoccupied with this startling revelation to give the pouring of the tea much thought. Mister Danon’s intentions were shocking enough but, perhaps even more so, you’re surprised at your own lack of awareness on the matter. 

You felt rather bad now, for listening to him so attentively and humoring the conversations he was always keen to share with you. Had he mistaken it for budding affection on your part? Have you unknowingly encouraged him to keep trying or, somehow worse, made him believe you were merely toying with his feelings this whole time? What a terrible thing to do to another person, intentionally or not. 

Monsieur Neuvillette silently regards you when you bring the tea over on a silver tray but you can’t bring yourself to look at him while you set everything down on the low table in front of him. He was always nothing but kind to you despite your lower station of housekeeper, just as he was with all of the staff that kept the Palais functioning as it should. Everyone from the notarizers and the title clerks right down to even the janitors were treated with nothing but respect and dignity, and that very much included you. But you were a bit too ashamed, too guilty to meet his gaze right now, and you quickly shuffle back a polite distance once everything is laid out so you can further avoid his eyes. 

A stretch of quiet settles over the room, and you have to try very hard not to start fiddling with your uniform again. 

“Won’t you make yourself a cup and join me?” He ventures at last. 

“I couldn’t, monsieur Neuvillette. But thank you.” 

He seems to deliberate over something for a short beat before half turning his body on the lounge to look up at you. “I must apologize for prying like this but what about the situation with mister Danon has you so upset? If you didn’t know what his intentions were then you certainly cannot be held responsible for not acting accordingly.” 

You hesitate to discuss this matter with him, well aware that it was improper and impolite to talk over such things with not only the aristocracy but also the man who was effectively your employer. It felt very much like an unspoken boundary that should not, under any circumstances, be crossed but … when you take in monsieur Neuvillette’s imploring expression your resolve starts to crumble. He was a wise and exceptionally astute figurehead who always treated every case laid out before him no matter how small or insignificant with the utmost care and consideration. Perhaps he would have some insight to share with you, or at least some advice. 

“Well,” You finally relent, tipping your chin down to shyly regard your buckled shoes. “I’m aware that this might sound a little odd but I just feel so guilty about everything … I should have realized sooner why he kept seeking me out like he did. As silly as it is, I can’t help but feel like I tricked him somehow.” 

“That is a silly thing, isn’t it?” He agrees in a soft, endlessly patient tone. “How could you have tricked someone if you weren’t aware of what they wanted from you? In the unlikely event that a case such as this were presented to me, I wouldn’t even be able to rule in favor of misrepresentation on the defendant’s part. You have to act with knowing and intention to be held accountable for trickery.” 

You despondently mull that over for a long stretch. Logically, you knew what he was saying to be true and you, as everyone else in Fontaine, trusted his judgment implicitly. It wasn’t so much that you doubted him but, rather, your guilt was so great that it couldn’t accept this answer. The thought alone that you might have broken mister Danon’s heart after stringing him along for months almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Does that mean you wouldn’t deign to punish me for it?” It’s barely more than a whisper. 

“No, not unconscionably. No one in their right mind would.” 

It feels like you're withering on the spot. You didn’t understand it yourself, why you were so upset to hear this rather than relieved at finding you hadn’t broken any laws or regulations that would hold you accountable. Even if mister Danon were to try to file a suit against you to mend some of his bruised ego it sounded like he wouldn’t even have a case to stand on — and that was good. 

So why did it feel as if you were skating by without making proper amends for the transgression?

“Mademoiselle?” 

You finally bring your head up to look at him. “Do you think mister Danon will forgive me if I apologize?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression softens, taking on a truly remorseful edge. “I don’t know, little one. He might. I can’t see into the future any more than you can, but I think if it’s something that bothers you so much then it certainly wouldn’t hurt to talk to him about it.” 

Blinking back a sudden deluge of tears, you take an impulsive step towards him with the tray clutched to your chest. “Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I don’t know what to do! How can I possibly ameliorate my actions if he might not even accept my apology? I — I didn’t mean to lead him on!” 

Very neatly, calmly, monsieur Neuvillette folds his gloved hands on his lap and studies you for an indeterminable amount of time with that closed and shuttered expression. You aren’t sure how many minutes pass when you’re a right mess inside, all your emotions kicked up into such a veritable whirlwind that it’s all you can do just to hold it together. But, at length, he eventually draws a careful breath. 

“What I’m hearing is that your guilt over this matter will not be dissuaded until you feel appropriate action has been taken against you to right what is, in your mind, a very serious wrong, intentional or not. Is that correct?” 

You blink, more than a little surprised at how concisely he’s grasped your thoughts on the matter. It almost sounds foolish when he puts it like that, in such blunt terms, but there is no denying the pang that resonates within you. “Yes, monsieur. I feel terrible for what I’ve done …” 

He seems to hesitate, his brows drawing inward almost imperceptibly. “Guilt can function as its own form of punishment as well, and a very effective one at that. But you must understand something, mademoiselle. The law simply is not applicable here. There is no legal recourse and, therefore, no system in place to enforce any sort of repercussions against you.” 

You take another step closer, feeling fervent and hot. “Then will you punish me, monsieur Neuvillette?” 

Abruptly, he goes very still. “I am hardly in any position to mete out such discipline,” He says slowly, carefully. “And, far more importantly, I’m not quite sure what you would have me do. I don’t believe this situation would call for a monetary fine or even any corrective action on an employment level … and I’m certainly not going to spank you over my knee like a child.” 

Flustered heat crawls up your neck to settle in your cheeks. You hate the way your knees grow weak and knobby at the thought of that, but you were decidedly in agreement with him. It would have been inappropriate for him to strike you in any capacity, least of all over something like this. Still, though … 

“Isn’t there something to be done?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression settles back into that somber mask again, eyeing you for a drawn out beat before he finally issues a clipped sigh. Leaning back to recline against the lounge, he stiffly crosses his legs and once more settles his folded hands atop the bent knee. “Come here, little one. Stand next to me.” 

Your feet almost don’t want to move from the spot but you force them to uproot so you can cautiously shuffle forward. You aren’t sure what to expect when your cotton stuffed head was such a mess, but all he does when you come up beside him is hold out an expectant hand. It takes you a moment to realize what he wants and you flush even hotter as you pass him the tray. Taking it from you, he sedately sets it aside on the cushion before fixing his attention on you once again. 

“This is another topic in which I lack expertise but I might have something in mind that could satisfy your need for penance. However, I will not force or otherwise coerce you into it, and you will likewise be free to walk away at any time. Once you have decided you’ve made the appropriate dues for leading mister Danon on, as you put it, then this arrangement will end immediately. Is that agreeable to you?” 

You bob your head in a quick nod. “Yes, monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you.” 

Squaring his broad shoulders, the usually kindly disposition with which he carried himself outside of the courtroom fades and is replaced by the stern set of his mouth, the slight tension along his brow, to indicate that it is the Chief Justice sitting before you now. A chill runs up your spine at the change in him, so subtle yet unavoidably obvious, and a sharp look from pale lavender eyes stops you from saying anything. You’d never before been subjected to such a hard expression from him and you can’t quite stop yourself from sympathizing with whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves standing before him in court. It really wasn’t any wonder why he held the title of supreme judge in all of Fontaine when you saw him like this. 

“Do not thank me yet, mademoiselle. If you would be so kind, please lift your skirt for me.” 

Your spine stiffens with a tremor so powerful it very nearly bowls you over on the spot. Obediently, though, you reach down with numb hands to gather the full, flouncy material of your uniform and shyly hike it up along with the lace petticoat underneath. 

“Higher.” He commands, intently observing the slow ascension of your skirts. “That’s it, up around your waist. Good.” 

Sucking in a faltering breath, you sway unsteadily on your feet and try not to lose your nerve. The thought that you would be able to alleviate your guilt with this steels your resolve though, and your hands start to shake as your stockinged upper thighs are revealed to him, the simple garters holding them in place and, finally, your lace panties. Your face is on fire while you nudge everything up a little further to make sure it was satisfactory and to his liking despite still harboring some very real doubts about this in the back of your mind. 

He did say he wasn’t going to spank you … didn’t he? 

Casually, monsieur Neuvillette reaches out a hand to slip long, elegantly poised fingers into the space between your thighs and you suck in a sharp gasp when he nudges them up against your cunt just so. The touch is featherlight and barely there, but it makes more blood rush into your face to leave you rattled and a bit dizzy. But you don’t pull away from him as he takes his time petting over the apex of your fleshy mound and the slit running along your body, determined to see this through. Somehow having him touch you like this was not nearly as embarrassing as the way his expression doesn’t change while he does it, you’re quite ashamed to realize. 

“Are you sensitive here?” He asks you softly, prompting you to swallow. Hard. 

“I … I don’t know. I’m not sure.” 

Quietly clicking his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette presses up against you a little more firmly, gloved fingertips digging into your defenseless clit to make you jolt and give a startled yelp. “You seem responsive enough to me. I only know of this particular activity in theory but … well, it doesn’t really matter. I believe we should have no problem at all using this method for your penance.” 

“W - which is, monsieur?” 

“I believe I’ve heard the people call this ‘edging’ before. It sounds rather dreadful, doesn’t it? Like some sort of barbaric torture technique.” Carefully observing your face, he pushes up even harder to grind tight, mean little circles against that sensitive pleasure button, and your eyes grow big as you stiltedly rock forward on your toes. “I suppose it could still be called that, depending on who you asked. The instigator or the receptee. I’m sure they would have drastically different opinions on the matter.”

Whimpering, you numbly readjust your hold on your skirt to make sure it stays up and out of his way while he’s doing this. Not that you were entirely sure you liked this specific method in terms of punishments when it was so obvious your body was eagerly responding to it – from the way your pussy clenches around nothing and starts to slick for him and even to the way your nipples stiffen against the inside of your shirt – but perhaps that was a good thing. Would you have really been able to say your penance was paid in full if this trial were not appropriately challenging?

“Wh … where?” 

Blinking at the little mouse squeak noise, monsieur Neuvillette just keeps rubbing over you with that steady motion of his hand. “I beg your pardon?” 

Trying valiantly to keep the fluster off of your face and failing miserably at it, you shyly avert your gaze. “I was just curious … where did you hear of this?”

“A reasonable question.” He relents, allowing the smallest note of humor to color his voice. “While it is true I don’t often partake in such crude conversations, it can be a little hard to avoid at times. Even here, in the Palais Mermonia. I believe they refer to it as ‘water cooler talk’.”

“Oh.” You’d overhead such things before too, now that you thought of it. The other women who worked at the Palais were more prone to gossip, joint complaints about their husbands or beaus, fawning over babies and first days of school, and academic achievements, while the men … they would sometimes change topics when they saw you coming but more than once you’d caught snippets of inappropriate conversations. A recent visit they’d had to a brothel or perhaps how they fantasized about doing certain things to their partners. You always felt mildly scandalized whenever it would happen, shocked that such discussions were being entertained at the Palais, and yet — 

Letting out a slow, stuttering breath, you carefully glance down at yourself to look at monsieur Neuvillette’s hand disappearing between the soft pudge of your thighs. This was vastly more inappropriate than any ‘water cooler talk’ and that realization embarrasses you a great deal. Your cheeks feel a little hotter, your blood pumping harder, and you whine, very low in your throat. Was this really an acceptable form of punishment? 

You think it probably is, because the shame that comes with it is potent and cloying, especially when your hips give a weak judder at what he’s doing. To think that the Iudex himself was touching you like this … 

“Does that feel good, little one?” 

Twitching at the sound of his voice, you give a stilted nod. “Yes, monsieur, thank you … but — but I don’t think I quite understand. Are punishments supposed to feel good?” 

“Not necessarily, no. But this is only a part of it. Relax, sweet girl. I will ensure your guilt is appropriately mitigated in due time.” 

You still don’t truly understand it, but you allow yourself to ease into it anyway. Relax into his touch. Slipping your eyes closed, you just take a moment to feel the sensation of him rubbing over your cunt. The press of his firm fingers pudges your lips to highlight how soft and pliable they are, the blunt tips of his gloves sinking into the slit. Even the thin layer of your panties is not enough to lessen the drag in any meaningful way, and it doesn’t seem to take long at all for you to start feeling sticky with arousal. It’s copious and excessive, almost implausibly so considering that he’d only touched you in this one specific spot thus far. Hardly at all. 

You hadn’t thought you would be so easily excitable and yet the proof of it is in the way you tremble for him, the way your breathing gradually picks up to make your breasts heave under your blouse, and it quickly becomes difficult just to stay standing in place. You wanted to twist and pull away, give your drooling cunt even a moment's reprieve, but you don’t give in to the urge. That wasn’t what he’d agreed to, and you trusted his judgment … 

So you stand there, trembling, while your stiff nipples cut up into your shirt in search of the same friction, and you try not to cry out. Your pussy tingles against his hand, the pressure it exerts so constant and steady that it rapidly starts to feel like the building pressure in you is reaching critical mass. Much sooner than you could have anticipated or guessed, it was as if your body was particularly weak for monsieur Neuvillette’s dutiful attention. 

Softly wheezing when your legs buckle and threaten to give out, you subtly tip your pelvis further into his hand and it becomes that much more apparent how wet you really are. How stiff and engorged your clit had gotten. A violent shudder tears through you at the meaty, swollen drag of it under his fingers, head tipping back and. - - 

He retracts his hand so suddenly it leaves you lurching in place. Raggedly gasping at the sudden loss, you turn wide, wild eyes on monsieur Neuvillette but he merely gives you that same somber expression as he interlaces his fingers on top of his bent knee once again, unfalteringly casual about it. 

“That will be all for right now, mademoiselle. Thank you.” 

You just gape at him, stunned and confused, with your skirts still hiked up around your waist like a shameless fool. “Wh - wha —“ 

A look of sympathy flashes across monsieur Neuvillette’s face. “This is the penance you wanted so badly. As many times as you like, I will bring you close to orgasm but I will not let you actually reach climax. It is the only suitable punishment I could think of for your specific … transgression.” 

It takes a great deal of effort for you to do it, but you suck in a slow, shuddering breath to steady yourself. “I … I see. Thank you, monsieur. I understand now.” 

“Very good. Now, run along. I’m sure you’ve got work to do elsewhere.” 

He offers you a small smile that you think is meant to be reassuring but it does very little to distract from the throbbing ache in your cunt or calm your pounding heartbeat. Numbly, you drop your skirt and petticoat back into place and run your hands over it to smooth out the (now real, not imagined) wrinkles as you slowly make your way towards the door. It was like you were in a trance. 

“And mademoiselle?”

You pause, turning to look back at him. “Yes, monsieur?” 

“I would like to see you in my office again around noontime. Please do not forget and don’t be late.” 

~*~

It hadn’t taken you long to realize just how insidious and cruel this strange brand of punishment truly was. You left his office such a sticky mess between the legs that even trying to clean yourself in the powder room did little good against the slick oozing out of you to stain your panties and make them stick to you, moulding against your cunt. It serves as a near constant reminder of how close you’d been to climax, how monsieur Neuvillette’s fingers had felt touching such an intimate part of your body, and how torturous it had felt to have that friction taken away so suddenly. 

The wisdom of the Iudex impresses you even now though, for you did indeed see why he’d deemed this the only appropriate corrective measure that would fit the crime. You had unknowingly strung mister Danon along with your feminine charm and wiles, so it did indeed make sense to turn that back around on you in some way. 

And although it does take a while, the distracting pulse in your cunt slowly fades into an afterthought in the back of your mind while you flit about the Palais tending to various tasks and seeing that everything was as it should be. At some point you even start to forget how your damp panties cling to you and that makes it much easier to view this trial as an easy obstacle to overcome. You would simply allow monsieur Neuvillette to carry out this task a handful of times, consider your self flagellation completed and then move on with your life. 

Yes, this really was the best method of making your peace with the situation. 

Comforted in your conviction, you return to monsieur Neuvillette’s office at the appointed time and issue a gentle rap at the door. His voice filters through without missing a beat, calling for you to come in, and you enter without reservation. 

Perhaps you should have been more wary of underestimating him or this game you were playing but you think nothing of it as you make your way across the room to stand in front of his stately desk. He looks up at you with a brief smile that inexplicably makes your pulse thrum a little faster, and that surprises you slightly. Catches you off guard. 

“Thank you for your punctuality, little one. I have a meeting scheduled after lunch is over so I wanted to tend to you before I got too busy.” 

Self consciously, you avert your gaze. “Are you sure this is alright, monsieur? I don’t want you to go hungry because of me.” 

“Nonsense. I planned accordingly and already ate before you came by.” Not lingering on the thought for very long, he takes a moment to straighten a stack of papers and neatly set them aside, out of the way. Nudging his high backed chair out from under the desk, he half turns and situates himself first before reclining against the backrest and finally looking up at you again. “Come. No need to feel shy.” 

His words have the opposite effect of making you feel ten times more shy than you originally did, and you can feel yourself starting to blush again as you slowly round the desk to come up beside him. Standing just a scant few inches from him like this it occurs to you, suddenly, that you probably should have been a bit more apprehensive about returning to his chamber like this. He was going to touch you again … oh, perhaps you had not thought this through all the way.

“Here.” He says, drawing you back into the moment with a gentle pat against his leg. “Sit on my lap, little one. This should make things a bit easier for both of us.” 

The flush that crawls up your face is an intense and overwhelming one. “M - monsieur, I — I couldn’t possibly be so presumptuous!” 

“Is it presumptuous if I’m telling you to do it?” 

Your spine stiffens at the slightly hardened tone in his voice, the edge that seems to cut across any of your weak excuses, and you quickly realize it is once again the Chief Justice sitting before you now, not the kindly monsieur Neuvillette. And he was looking at you very expectantly. 

Swallowing your nerves, you reluctantly shuffle closer and turn to lower yourself onto his leg with a slow, stiff motion of your body. The firm pressure and warmth of him underneath you is almost enough to send you running from the room in hysterics, but before you can even think to change your mind his arm comes forward to secure itself around your middle. A surprised little yelp bursts out of you when he hauls you back against him to settle more firmly on his lap, completely disregarding how you tense up and shudder on top of him. 

“There. Isn’t that much better?” He softly coos at you, tugging you back to lean against his front. Your face feels like it’s on fire but you don’t fight it, only whimpering quietly when he at last has you situated how he wants. 

“M - monsieur …” You mewl into the suddenly statically charged office, unable to stop it, but he just quietly tuts at you as he turns his head to press his mouth against your hair. 

“Now, now, you’re alright. I’ve got you. There isn’t any reason to be so nervous.” A violent tremor tears through you when you feel his lips purse against the side of your head in what you think must be a brief kiss — but you don’t get the chance to fully process the significance of that as he bends a little closer to put his mouth near your ear now. “Spread your legs for me, little one. Let me see you.” 

Dizzy with the surge of white hot arousal that abruptly crashes into you with all the force of a sack of bricks, you give a weak, twitchy roll of your body against him and reach down with trembling hands to grab at your skirt. Slowly inching it up, you tip your chin down to watch with him as more and more of your thighs are revealed. The soft pudge around the tops of your stockings embarrasses you somewhat but not nearly as much as your panties do. Even from this angle you can see a dark, wet spot staining the crotch when you ease your legs open and you whimper softly at the sight of it. 

“Goodness, you certainly soaked yourself earlier didn’t you? Poor thing,” With a quiet click of his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette reaches down past cotton and lace, and voluminous frills to slide his hand over your mound. Your breath hitches as you watch him do it, cupping your pussy with an almost apologetic squeeze, and you quickly turn your head away before you can say or do something else you’ll regret today. 

You had to admit, it was very naive and shortsighted of you to consider this an easy penance just because it was not a constant, pressing concern at the forefront of your mind. How very foolish you had been. 

“I was thinking about it earlier and I found myself quite curious,” He admits, still just holding your cunt in the palm of his hand. “Would it be too impolite of me to ask how often you usually pleasure yourself?” 

Your chest dramatically heaves with the ragged gasp you suck in. “Monsieur Neuvillette, that’s … why would you ask me something like that?” 

“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you. That was not my intention, little one. Please forgive me.” A pause, while he turns his head to press his lips against your hair again. “It is just that you are so shy and your body is so sensitive. I wondered if perhaps you were too ashamed to take care of your own needs in this manner, that’s all. I’ve heard some women are.” 

Lungs painfully constricting inside your chest, you stiffly lift your hands up to cover your face. Having the Iudex pet you so intimately was one thing, but discussing such matters with him was something else entirely! 

“P - please forgive me, monsieur … you haven’t offended me it’s just — I have no experience with this sort of thing. I do it, sometimes. Pleasure myself like that. But I’ve never had anyone else t - touch me in that way before …” 

“I see.” 

Silence settles over the room for a long, drawn out stretch that soon starts to ride the line of being uncomfortable. You can just start to feel the sting of hot tears creeping through at the corners of your eyes when he gently pats your cunt with the flats of his fingers, startling a surprised noise out of you. Lowering your hands enough to see, you gape down at yourself as he somewhat possessively cups his hand around you again and gives the pudge of your labia a light squeeze. 

“Such a silly thing you are.” He says against your head, displacing some of the little flyways there to send them dancing at your peripheral. You barely even notice it though, trembling at the faintest hint of a growl in his voice when it sets your guts to vibrate and seems to reverberate inside your chest cavity. You’d never heard him sound like that before but don’t get the chance to linger on that thought or question it, because he nuzzles further into you until it feels like he’s speaking directly into your ear now. “In the future you should try not to be so forthcoming with your body when it comes to men. Had I been any less honorable I could have all too easily taken advantage of you earlier and I could still do it now had I wanted to. I understand your desire for wrongs to be appropriately righted as that is the very foundation Fontaine was built on but this is not the way to go about it, mademoiselle.” 

Your mouth warbles open but nothing comes out. All you can do is sit there, quaking on monsieur Neuvillette’s lap, while his fingers slip into one side of your panties and tugs them aside. The sight of your own cunt lips, puffy and flushed with arousal, surprises a faltering animal noise out of you that seems to echo endlessly inside the room. He pays it little mind though and simply curls his thumb to brush over your slit and the clitoris hiding within, smearing sticky slick with that fine leather glove and nudging your body into opening up to him. Legs twitching, you jerk your hands down to latch onto the arm locked around your middle, clutching at him even as you fitfully writhe against the sensation. 

All at once your earlier arousal comes crashing back with a vengeance, temporarily forgotten but not near as snuffed out as you would have liked it to be. Your clit thrums under his stilted caress as if the climax you’d been close enough to taste but not able to experience had lain dormant this entire time while you ensured the water pitchers were filled, the snack tables stocked and the fireplaces were appropriately stoked wherever they were needed. It shocks you a great deal to realize how powerful your arousal truly is, and you buck your hips with a whiny moan that would have embarrassed you under better circumstances. 

But better circumstances would not have found your cunt absolutely flooding with a deluge of fresh slick, nor would your clit have been swelling as eagerly as it does. You can feel the meaty, engorged drag of it under the soft petting of his thumb, almost idly drawing it back and forth with a total lack of urgency that makes your head spin perhaps even more so than the sharp stabs of pleasure do. You wanted to cum, and the knowledge that he would not permit you to just makes you want it even more. 

“Please, monsieur —!” 

Softly humming, he presses his thumb down a bit more firmly. “Are you already getting close, little one?” 

You tip your head back to rest on his broad shoulder, panting up at the ceiling while shuddering waves of yet unrealized ecstasy crash over you, each somehow more powerful than the last. Instinctively, you inch your legs further apart even as they tremble fiercely for him and you think, idly, you probably would have vibrated right off him had he not been keeping you pinned against his front. You’re helpless to do anything except sensitively quake like this, and you do so with great enthusiasm. 

“It is too much … I - I can’t take it!” 

“You will.” He assures you, his voice soft again but it still carries that subtle hint of an edge underneath the surface. You didn’t understand it, why he would sound like that. What had brought it on. Was he even more displeased with you than he’d suggested? 

The thought alone brings tears to your eyes almost as much as the cresting pleasure making you writhe on his lap, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to make him feel bad for causing you to cry when you were the one who had asked for this … but oh, it was so very hard not to give voice to the sobs threatening to wrack your body when it was all so much. The firm, weighty pressure of his thumb petting over your cunt, his other fingers idly teasing along your slit where they were still holding your panties aside. The smell of him, the taste of him lingering on the back of your tongue, his sturdy weight underneath you. It was all too much, and it felt like you were drowning in him. 

“Let this be a lesson to you,” He continues, unconcerned with the way you twist against him and choke on stuttering gasps. “Even more pressing than the matter with mister Danon, I’m far more concerned about how easily you gave yourself up to a man to do with however he pleased for the sake of penance. Needless self sacrifice is not justice, sweet girl. I do hope you’ll remember that.” 

Bending his head close once more, monsieur Neuvillette presses his mouth to your hammering pulse, and you mewl at the contact. It is not so much a kiss, you abruptly realize, as it is a not very subtle threat. Like there was a beast lurking beneath that kindly gentleman facade … 

“Oh, monsieur, I — I’m going to —“ 

“No, you are not.” He cuts across you, practically hisses it against your jugular, and you nearly jolt right off him when the arm around your middle slides up to lock across your front at an angle. Suddenly he pinches your nipple through your shirt where it’s stiff and straining against cotton, giving it a mean little tweak to make your back bow. Trying to twist away proves futile and you yelp at the pleasure laced pain even as your cunt drools even more obscenely in response. 

You felt like you were going crazy. Truly wild with potent, cloying arousal so powerful, so overwhelming, you can’t even process what’s happening to you while you shake right to the edge of your release. 

And just like that, the hand on your pussy retreats, pulling away altogether to leave your panties shamelessly askew in favor of latching onto the swell of your inner thigh and keeping them spread when you frantically buck your hips in search of that fleeting touch. You heave and groan, reeling at the total loss of friction, but it is useless. Monsieur Neuvillette is an unyielding presence at your back no matter how earnestly you squirm against him, and his gloved fingers give your aching teat another cruel tug to further stave off your release. 

You’re more than a bit horrified, in a delirious, hazy sort of way, to find that the pain serves its purpose in chasing away your climax enough to leave your pussy absolutely throbbing in the wake of this denial. No longer teetering right on the precipice, it seems to force you back a pace or two and all you can do is look on longingly at the promise of oblivion beyond with yearning and desperation. Wanting, but not allowed to have. 

You truly had underestimated just how tortuous this punishment technique could really be … 

Through the murky fever you feel monsieur Neuvillette brush his mouth across your cheek to press at the corner of your eye, effectively drawing you out of your groaning stupor. Sucking in a ragged gasp, you clutch at his arm all the tighter and try in vain to lean away. 

“M - monsieur?” 

“You’re crying.” 

Noising a soft sound of confusion, you blearily blink your eyes open to realize that they were in fact clouded with a swimming sheen of tears making them burn. Sniffling sadly, you start to reach up to swipe them away in shame but the hand on your breast comes up quicker and locks under your jaw, physically turning your face towards him. 

Laying spread out on top of him with your head forced back against his shoulder, you look up at monsieur Neuvillette from just a scant few millimeters away. His expression is still somber and unreadable but … the glint in his pale lilac eyes makes your chest hitch. It wasn’t hunger the same way you’d on occasion caught other men looking at you — men like mister Danon, you realize in retrospect — but it is a hunger all the same. Something old and primal, from a long forgotten dark age that inspires a slow curling tendril of uncertainty low in your gut. You don’t think it’s lust per se, not in the usual sense, but a kind of lust,  perhaps. One you didn’t have a name for. 

One you weren’t sure if you wanted to learn the true nature of. 

After silently studying you for a long moment, he finally drags his gaze from your face to regard the tall, stately clock standing sentry in the office, the only witness to this lurid state of affairs. “I still have some time before my meeting. I think we should be able to squeeze in one more session before I have to go.” 

You very nearly give voice to a hysterical, broken sob, just barely managing to choke it back with a frazzled whine instead. “Monsieur —“ 

“Hush, little one.” He murmurs and leans close again, stunned surprise washing over you when his tongue flicks out to lick up a wet tear from under your eye. You gape at him in shocked disbelief when he pulls back enough to look at you again, leaving behind residual moisture on your skin, but he doesn’t even look the least bit put out or sorry for it. Like it was a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Perhaps it was. You had no idea – and if he recognizes your surprised reaction for what it is, he certainly doesn’t show it. “You have nothing to fear from me. I will ensure your punishment is properly administered and then we shall further discuss your other behaviors in greater detail. Rest assured, you will be appropriately corrected in time. I will personally see to that myself.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[lorynna]

Before I started to get into feminism overall, which was in my late teens, I didn't think it was necessary in today's day and age - because that's what I've been told.

"Name one right men have that women don't!" was a statement I was often confronted with, mostly by men but that's already a misguided question that isn't aiming for a sincere discussion. - plus if you ask that question, you definitely missed a lot of what feminism is truly about.

And when we are being honest, a lot of things I can list now didn't come to my mind when I was trying to answer this question back then, because almost everything is so normalized it's hard to start to really dissect and learn to question already existing structures. (at least it was for me) But this does not mean that those things don't exist, just back then I didn't have the words for it and couldn't really express what my intuition was telling me.

Back to what I knew about feminism as a teenager: As stupid as it sounds: that it existed. I of course had heard the mainstream "feministic" opinions, that looking back i wouldn't consider feministic at all but very basic concepts without any depth to it.

If someone has asked me to describe what it meant back then, my answer would have been "to create equality between women and men".

So i wasn't interested in it, I frankly didn't even know there was more than one kind of feminism and so many subcategories too. Only later I discovered that what made me dislike and distance myself from "feministic statements" was that I didn't think there was a category of feminism that supported or even held my own values.

Whenever I encountered social media mainstream feminism I almost always disagreed with their liberal feminism or choice feminism category statements, so it made me think feminism overall was not for me.

And while I am still learning I can definitely say that it opened my eyes a lot and contributed positively to my personal growth. It helped me develop and define some of my already existing opinions, changed some or added new points of views to certain topics and if you're a woman and you're reading this - I can only recommend researching about the different kind of feminism and reading female literature about it.

The types of feminism that I can identify with the most are firstly radical feminism and also a bit of marxist feminism. I am certainly not perfect, still kind of new to it and don't act feministic in each category in my life. For example I do wear some make-up, I do shave and I do date a man. Some of my opinions are nuanced, I am still discovering things.

[yanban-san]

Obscurity - AU-Tober #1

Going to try to do the Au-tober thingy by @marchy-emmet. :) Here's the first one! Not beta read at all. 🥲

(Tags: implied x-reader, Submas, SFW)

Gear Station runs like finely tuned machinery. Like the perfect rhythm of a well wound clock, everything moves in pace to it's beat and purpose- Never too far, never late, never early, but precise and exact- Though the passengers and customers of the station and it's network may forever be in disarray, the station itself, and all of it's trains and rail lines, were never found in any state other than perfection, it seemed.

The trains ran all across Unova- Everywhere. Anywhere. Always bustling, almost always packed full of busy people and young pokemon trainers- Except a few lines.

The Battle lines.

The Battle Subway was a bit of a novelty, a tourist attraction. "But isn't that rather dangerous?" People would say, envisioning a harsh, intense pokemon battle taking place on a train-

And yet, that's what happened. Multiple times. And the Battle Subway was no more worse for wear.

"It was a fine experience," A trainer would remark. "That last battle was tough, though."

And the last battles were tough. Impossibly so.

"The last trainer…. was kind of strange, though." "Oh, the name? I can't remember that-" "It was just some guy, right?"

But the two who held the last battles of the Battle Subway were far from just 'some guys'.

They were the Subway Bosses.

Emmet hummed as he flipped through one of his social pages on pidget. No notifications, not that that bothered him. It was normal- In person, and online, he and his brother blurred into the background of existence it seemed- And no one paid them any heed to an almost alarming degree.

But still, he thought- And his hand hovered over an app on his X-transceiver. Applink. Applin-link. A dating app.

He hesitated, and clicked it open.

No messages.

Sighing heavily, he sat down at his desk and continued to write, hand combing through his thin, wiry silver hair. Was it too much to ask that he and his brother find someone? Surely there was someone out there who would find them charming, and, more importantly, remember them. Notice them.

Though they did have one further problem, Emmet continued to think on as he walked to the break room. It was lunch time- And he was at least looking forward to the sandwiches he and his brother had made this morning.

"Good afternoon!" He called out, entering the break room. None of the Depot Agents acknowledged him, many already chatting among each other or going to grab snacks and drinks from the vending machines or the large fridges-

Emmet sighed.

"They usually take notice of us when we're together, brother."

Emmet turned his head. Ingo. His fellow in suffering this stupid, stupid curse.

"…Good afternoon, Brother."

Ingo patted his younger twin on the shoulder, and the two of them grabbed their sandwiches, sat down, and waited. They weren't hidden- Sitting in the middle of the lunch room, and they certainly should have been noticed- Their coats were certainly noticeable- Their whole affect was striking…

But no one did.

No one ever did.

It really was like a supernatural curse, it seemed- Though it'd gone on as long as the two had been alive, it seemed.

Emmet's sandwich was gone quickly- As was Ingo's. They normally didn't socialize or particularly interact with the staff of Gear Station- They did their work, rode the train back to Anville Town, and-

Woke up for the next day.

No notifications on the X-Transceivers as they readied themselves, and headed down to the station.

"Good morning," Ingo greeted. The ticket master of the Anville stop yawned, turning to his coffee.

"Good Morning!" Ingo called out again, raising his voice. The poor worker jumped in his chair, before taking note of the two imposing men in front of him.

"O-Oh dear, uh… Good… Morning?" He blinked, looking at the two- Wearing Gear Station emblems on their hats-

"I am Emmet, and we need to get on the train."

"O-Oh right, the- Subway Bosses- Sorry Sir, didn't notice you there."

As always. "No worries." Ingo replied. No use admonishing the poor young man- He'd forget it by the following day, anyway.

At least in the confines of a subway cart they were more noticeable. It was difficult not to notice them there, given that the two of them standing side-by-side practically created a visual wall that couldn't be seen through. Something about them was particularly intimidating in this setting- Perhaps that was how they became bosses here, after all.

How did they, though? Ingo sometimes wondered- He couldn't quite remember himself, either. Perhaps an artifact of whatever caused them to be ignored, forgotten, and obscured was causing them to forget themselves. He couldn't remember how long he and Emmet had worked at Gear Station- Nor how they'd risen to the position that they'd found themselves in.

Were they ghosts? Ingo wondered- No, they seemed corporeal enough. There weren't any reports or news articles of two conductors dying either, that they could point to for evidence. Though the thought made his heart sink and his stomach grow cold. If ever he did find out what happened- Why they were like this- he hoped it wouldn't be something so… macabre. The thought made him quite melancholy.

It was in silent moments like this, riding to Gear Station, that Emmet usually found his voice- And his voice was often on the subject of their predicament, or, often enough, his pokemon- Battling took his mind off their problems, and strategizing was something he and his brother greatly enjoyed.

"Do you think Chandelure cursed us?"

Ingo scoffed. "Absolutely not. Chandelure is good, she wouldn't have done something like this-"

And Ingo's beloved companion let herself out of her pokeball, floating in front of the two.

"Maybe she did something on accident?"

The lantern-light shook itself, a sad look on it's face. Emmet felt a little guilty for his words- And apologized. The singing, glassy ghost pokemon floated in front of the two, swinging contentedly from side to side- If she could fix what ailed her trainer, she would, but she did not know- The fires of human souls were all the same to her, and Ingo and his brother looked no different to her than the multitudes of trainers she did battle against, or the commuters on the twin's beloved trains. There wasn't much to be done, it seemed- Perhaps this was just their fate.

Ingo sighed, and it wasn't long before the train pulled into Gear Station. The familiar sound of the announcer over the tanoy heralded the end of their ride, and the two stepped out and off, and to work that day.

Ignored, as always.

Luckily, the agents seemed to remember their existence, at least as their "bosses", when things needed to be done. And so, they rarely had trouble with getting their actual, bureaucratic work done for the day. Ingo couldn't complain- The office work they were used to was boring, yes, but the work of Gear Station made him and Emmet happy. That was one thing he could remember- He loved trains, and Emmet did too- But Emmet did love his pokemon and getting to battle with them every day.

Their existence at least, was peaceful, if lonely. Ingo remembered when the Gym Leader of Nimbasa had come to their line once upon a time- And they'd actually managed to hold a conversation with her. They even exchanged numbers, with the intent to train together on occasion.

She never answered- And Ingo was inclined now to think it a product of their curse, rather than her just ghosting them. He looked up from his work, feeling his neck crick as he did so. Ah, he'd been far too focused on the documents he'd been filling out and signing. Emmet groaned, and Ingo could see his leg bouncing in rapid annoyance at whatever he was focusing on.

"Emmet, why don't we take lunch early today?"

"I verrry much agree." He answered shortly, immediately standing up. Well then, there was his answer.

"I don't want to sit in the cafeteria today though. Depressing. Verry much so."

Ingo shrugged. They could eat in the common area, under the glass roof of the gallery off the atrium and amid the indoor garden of Gear Station. Yes, that sounded nice. Watch pokemon and their trainers pass by, enjoy their meals- They did do that on occasion, when the reality of sitting alone in the cafeteria, ignored by their own employees and coworkers hit a little too hard.

The two made their way over to the pretty side station- The glass roof letting in sunlight, sparkling and casting gridded shadows of the great iron beams holding the glass above them- Broken up only by the dappling of leaves of great bushes and trees. The seating wasn't too full, so the two went off to order their meals from one of the eateries in the market adjacent to Gear Station- That connected through this very gallery. The heavenly smell of stir fries and curries and grease and sweets was lesser over here, but the twins could still smell it, and the aroma only became more and more intense as they approached the market- Making both of their stomachs growl.

"I want curry." Emmet announced, and off he marched to go and acquire the food- Ingo following after him. The two moved around people, rather than anyone moving around them, in spite of their height and rather foreboding appearance. And soon they stood in line, though that did not stop someone behind them from bumping into them- "Oh sorry, I didn't quite… see you there," They would hastily answer, suddenly feeling strange they didn't notice the two striking individuals in front of them- Only for the same thing to happen again. And again. And a few more times for good measure.

Up until the twins got up to finally place their order- And waited. The staff were busy- Waiting for someone to come up to the counter to order at their stall within the market.

"Excuse me!" Ingo yelled, rather loudly. It was the only way to get anyone's attention, it seemed-

But this time, no one noticed.

"Excuse us," Emmet also attempted to grab the poor cashier's attention, but they still didn't notice- Focusing instead on fiddling with something under the counter, as if blind not only to the twins but to the few people waiting behind them as well.

And you were getting impatient yourself- The two in front of you were certainly… intimidating, you thought- But- Had they offended the cashier? Could the Cashier not hear them? You weren't one to normally intervene, but… Well, you were hungry yourself.

"Excuse me," You interjected.

The twins ignored you. "Ahem, Excuse me," You interjected a bit more forcefully, and tapped the shoulder of the one in black. The market was quite loud- Perhaps they just couldn't hear you. But the way the one in black jumped- The obstinate frown on his face made him looked downright horrified. You hadn't meant to frighten him-

"Are you talking to me?" He asked, almost incredulously. Your own face matched his- Confusion and a sharp frown. "Well, yes. Is there something the matter? I'd like to order my lunch."

The two looked at each other. The one in white, a pleasant smile on his face, answered you first. "That's what we're trying to do. You seem good at getting people's attention. Here. Speak to them, please."

Your curiosity stopped you from rebuking the request- This was certainly strange. You'd seen a few people run into the pair, but you'd chalked it up to people not paying attention in the bustle of the market and just getting pushed around- Which happened.

"Alright, what did you two want to order?" You asked, as the cashier cheerfully turned to you, smile on her face, and suddenly jumped in shock as you addressed the two men flanking you- And a minute later, you had three order tickets, and a few more minutes later, you had your lunch- And they had theirs. "Let us pay for you. It's the least we can do," The one in black offered- And before you could really utter out any objection, he offered you a bill of money that more than covered your meal.

"Glad I could uh, be of help-" I guess, you thought. What a strange pair- Twins, evidently, and to you, at least, they were the most striking pair in the entire market- And all of Gear Station. Well, no matter. You should really be getting home, and so you went to bid them farewell.

"Actually, would you- I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but would you take your stop with us?" The one in black asked.

The one in white stood at your other side. "Yes! Please. We would like to talk to you, a little bit."

You considered it a moment. Their silver eyes sparkled at you, filled with a strange emotion- An almost hopeful look.

"Okay, sure. Who are you two, anyway? I feel like I've seen you… on the trains before. Aren't you two trainers?"

"I am Emmet, and this is my brother, Ingo."

Ingo bowed lightly. "We're quite glad to hear you've heard of us before, too."

"Yup! Verrry glad!"

It was going to be the first of many lunches shared with the strange bosses of Gear Station.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Sorry about this, but it’s is me moaning again.

I dunno. I am so worn out.

Everything is broken or breaking. Everything needs work. I can’t afford to fix or replace anything, and the basics of things like “shelter” are getting rather conceptual rather than real.

My body is failing me, and has so much wrong at once I don’t even think my standard answer to how I’m doing of “surviving” is true anymore. Like, the clock is ticking on when I break down for good. It can be summed up as: on physical/health level a pretty bad.

I need proper exercise, like not working on stuff, but like my walks in the woods. I miss the woods. I used to go every single day, and now I haven’t even been managing once a week!

I don’t have time for just being with animals, so they only see me when I feed them or give them medicine. I feel guilty all the time.

You know, I haven’t taken pictures of my sculpting for over three weeks now. I haven’t even taken a single photo in a week…a WEEK! ME! Who had been taking 5,000 photos a month! I carry my camera but I never have time or energy or focus or…I dunno, I just don’t care.

I haven’t gotten any sculpting ready to sculpt with. This little bit of old stuff will take forever to grind back into usable, and if I didn’t have to make an Easter gift for Mom I think I might just give up. It’s no fun with sculpey that crumbles and won’t stick, that has given my thumbs and fingers huge calluses, and I’ve no energy to waste making this god awful crap.

But I’ve gotta make something for Mom. I have no ideas and awful sculpey that won’t even let me attach ears on a damn rabbit! I’m really stressed about this…

Long ago I gave up writing except for my nightly journal entry. Even that has gotten to be more of a laundry list of my day since my life got too wrecked for contemplation. I haven’t missed a night since I was in my late teens, but for the last five months I’ve been falling asleep writing almost every single night! It’s gotten so bad that I am falling asleep before I finish writing about even my morning.

Then I wake up, at 3 or 4 am with a light burning my eyes, ink all over me, an a deep sense of fear and despair overwhelming me. I lie awake for hours, desperately trying to distract my brain from feeling like I’ve fallen out of a plane without a parachute.

Six hours of sleep. No matter how early I go to bed, or late I lie in, I can’t seem to get more than 6 hrs of sleep! I dream about sleep when I actually do dream.

I miss dreams. Proper dreams. I used to have the most amazing dreams.

I also miss daydreaming. I used to do that ALL the time. My hands could be busy but I could still conjure other worlds. . I loved being cozy in bed just so I could imagine, and now I lie there and worry. I can’t even daydream in that most perfect of settings!

Hell, I can’t think. As a child when people asked my favorite thing to do I’d say “thinking” first. Now it’s like there is no space or energy left over. Am I getting stupid too? I feel like I am. I certainly can’t focus.

That includes focusing on movies. I used to watch a movie every single night. Now even when I watch one I feel like it slides right out of my head. I “watch” it enough to tell you the gist of the plot but it’s like a partially over heard voice rather than a conversation.** I do a lot of “I think I’d like it, but I need to rewatch it when I can actually, you know, watch…”

I keep forgetting things. I understand why. I have soooo many things to do, new things get added every damn day, I have only one me to do it all, and this me is exhausted. Of course I forget things. But it still bothers me.

Today I remembered I had forgotten the new book to start reading Mom. I’d left it at her house yesterday, having picked it out before spending the next three hours working on stuff. So I went around there to get it to read it when I called her, but it turned out I had also forgotten where I put it. (In my defense, I’d set it on top of a stack of stuff I’d been sorting out, and when it fell over I’d been too tired to pick it up right then. It was kinda out of sight, out of mind under the pile) Then, when I went to call Mom it turned out I had forgotten to charge me phone! So today Mom never got her call because I’m a forgetful idiot!

I’m terrified I am going to forget to pay this one bill by the end of the month. I have to save the money for it out of my grocery funds, so it’s going to be after next week’s shopping trip before I can pay it. Until then I have it set up on the stove, which, yeah, is a bit of a hazard, BUT at least I have to look at it every day.

I have to look at it every day. My chest tightens when I look at it. And this is a doable bill! I just have to spend a few weeks with mac-n-cheese or bean soup. Imagine what it would be like if I had gotten the car worked on, like I need to, or if I went to a doctor, like a normal sensible person would do?

Sorry. I don’t suppose there is a point to all this. I’m tired, I feel rotten, my life is getting more precarious by the day, I am mostly not doing any of the things I enjoy, and not having fun when I try to. I have no money or energy or time. And, being isolated and alone in all this, I vent on my silly blog where people are trying to enjoy two year old snow pics without having to put up with my constant whining!

LOL/**sobs**

(And now I’m thinking of all the asks, comments, and messages I haven’t replied to yet. Geez! That makes inflicting this on you folks even worse!!)

**Movies are like conversations, at least if you do it right. Watching isn’t a passive experience as you let yourself go “into” the movie. It doesn’t matter if you hate it and mock it, or adore it and are inspired. Your watching reacts. You aren’t watching the “same” movie as the person sitting next to you, because you bring your experiences, personality, and so forth to it. The object of the movie is incomplete without a viewer, but each viewer completes it with themselves. Not explaining this well….

[every-marveler-ever]

Some Dramatics First

Fluffbruary Day 9 | @fluffbruary | Harmony

Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo | 📚 @buckybarnesbingo | Unlucky

IronStrange Bingo Round 3 | �� @ironstrangebingo | Cops

masterlist :: (ao3 link)

RATING: General WARNING(S): Sitting in campus prison cell, bail out, sleeping on the couch.

Bucky Barnes wouldn’t say that he is unlucky, but he’s certainly not the luckiest person in the world, it’s exactly what he’s thinking while sitting in the campus jail cell. But he has an (okay) friend who can bail him out, it might just take some dramatics first. | Sam Wilson/James 'Bucky' Barnes, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

fluffbruary 2023 | bbb 📚 flash | isb 🏥 round 3

Bucky Barnes wouldn’t say that he is unlucky, but he’s certainly not the luckiest person in the world, it’s exactly what he’s thinking while sitting in the campus jail cell. 

“You got pulled over by the cops?” Sam laughs from the other side of the bars, not at all worried about the situation that his boyfriend is currently in.

Bucky sighs rolling his eyes, “I called you to ask you to bail me out not sit there and make fun of me,” if anybody else saw the pout on Bucky’s face he would deny it, but in front of Sam it’s extremely hard to do. He wasn’t stupid, his bike was registered and he was wearing all the right equipment, he just happened to forget what the speed limit was on campus. 

Sam tilts his head because he knows Bucky’s not going to like the answer, “I thought about it but then I was on the phone with Tony and he offered to pay,” Bucky’s smile lights up but Sam, hadn’t finished talking, “if he gets to come and see you  in jail.”

The way Bucky’s face shifts he should be glad they are inside and the wind won’t change, “you have got to be kidding me,” he says as he kicks the bars of the cell. 

“He’s also bringing Stephen,” Sam adds before Bucky can get even more angry and consider just ripping the cheap bars out. “Great let’s just make it a family affair then! Are you going to call Steve down too so he can yell at me for being irresponsible? Or how about my mother?”

Wincing slightly at the remark Sam realises his grave mistake and pulls out his phone to message everyone, but the door opens and he’s already too late. “Mr Harmony! I hear you need a bailout,” Tony Stark yells walking into the building like he owns the place, which isn’t half bad seeing as his dad’s name is on the plaque outside because Howard expected Tony would wind up here more often than not. 

The joint groan comes from Sam, Bucky and even Stpehen as he watches his boyfriend's large nonsensical behaviour. “I am so sorry, and I’ve already kicked him out to sleep with Rhodey tonight,” Stephen says in an apology and it does make Bucky feel better that Tony has been kicked out so he won’t have to deal with the man after he leaves this cell tonight. 

If Bucky thinks about it, the cell isn’t that horrible it’s not like he’s actually in jail, it’s just campus jail, which he got pulled into by campus police. The cell has a bed, a private bathroom off to the side and two chairs and a table, it’s almost homey. 

“Yes, I am here to bail out one James Buchanan Barnes, on account of speeding, which honestly couldn’t you have just given him a ticket because now I have to sleep on my best friend’s couch rather than my own bed with my extremely hot boyfriend-” the cop that Tony is talking to gets annoyed after the first two words come out of the man's mouth and just stamps Bucky’s card unlock the electronic gate door. 

Bucky happily leaves the cell moving towards Sam and kissing him so he knows that he appreciates the support but oh-my-god I still hate you for bringing Tony here, and Sam understands it. Tony slaps him on the back and smiles, “let’s get you out of here, Mr Harmony, Mr we should be respectful of nature, and the ground of being, and yet got put in campus jail.”

Rolling his eyes he shoves Tony’s hand off his shoulder, “shove off Tony.”

He would never want to ask that again. 

But at least tonight he would have a good night's sleep, he can’t say the same for Tony.

Cards:

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 14: WE HIRE A NEW GUIDE

"We'll that's not a mystery at all," Alex huffed as Will read the new chapter title.

"I think we've had more than enough suspense to last a lifetime," Magnus sighed.

"Did Rachel get paid for her services?" Thalia chuckled at the phrasing though. "Chiron certainly never paid me to guide you through any quest!"

"He snuck along, it negated the contract of pay," Jason grinned. 

Percy was more than pleased too if these stupid things would stop tormenting him, especially because it didn't give him much of a clue what was fixing to happen. Was he really such a horrible person he was going to ask Rachel to go back into that maze with him? And who was we? He hoped to gods it was Annabeth...but that meant he was also wishing for her to go right back into that maze with him too?!

Hours later, my raft washed up at Camp Half-Blood. How I got there, I have no idea. At some point the lake water just changed to salt water. The familiar shoreline of Long Island appeared up ahead, and a couple of friendly great white sharks surfaced and steered me toward the beach.

"Your life is a children's book," Magnus told him casually. "Literally anything could happen to you at this point and I just would not bat an eye. The only thing you're missing is a purple crayon."

"Hope you're ready to test that theory Magnus," Percy grinned. He did not expect his life to get normal anytime soon.

When I landed, the camp seemed deserted. It was late afternoon, but the archery range was empty. The climbing wall poured lava and rumbled all by itself. Pavilion: nothing. Cabins: all vacant. Then I noticed smoke rising from the amphitheater. Too early for a campfire, and I didn't figure they were roasting marshmallows.

"I always assume there's marshmallows wherever I go," Alex sniffed.

"And that's why you live in constant disappointment," Magnus grinned.

"Who needs therapy when I got you explaining all my life problems to me," he chuckled.

I ran toward it.

Before I even got there I heard Chiron making an announcement. When I realized what he was saying, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Literally?" Jason asked in concern. "Because at this rate you're a mortality statistic all your own."

Percy pinched the skin on his forearm and wiggled it around for a moment before shrugging. How would he know?

"—assume he is dead," Chiron said. "After so long a silence, it is unlikely our prayers will be answered. I have asked his best surviving friend to do the final honors."

"Oh shit," all seven of them said at once with nothing but heartfelt sorrow and fear. It was the one and only way they ever would have been sorry to hear Annabeth was alive and back at camp.

I came up on the back of the amphitheater. Nobody noticed me. They were all looking forward, watching as Annabeth took a long green silk burial cloth, embroidered with a trident, and set it on the flames. They were burning my shroud.

"That's, almost cool," Magnus said with a sad smile. "How many people get to say they attended their own funeral?"

"Not worth it in the slightest," Percy shivered.

Annabeth turned to face the audience. She looked terrible. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she managed to say, "He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had.

"Probably?" Only Alex could manage to say that with the perfect amount of levity that didn't feel mocking, but was clearly mocking. "You only get a probably? Man Perce, I demand a round of applause and strippers at minimum for my funeral."

"I don't know Alex, I guess I'm okay with her even admitting we were friends." Percy grinned as he touched his lips again, the hint of more just on the horizon that somehow terrified him more than the volcano.

He..." Then she saw me. Her face went blood red.

"He's right there!"

"That couldn't have been any more dramatic if you'd burst out of a cake," Jason snickered.

"I am all for you stealing Annabeth's invisibility hat and playing this up for at least an hour or two," Alex smirked.

"You two are awful," Thalia's tone was more exhausted than scolding. She'd lived through the frantic Iris message of her little sister trying to explain what happened and Annabeth's assurance she shouldn't come, the priority was finding Luke, finishing the mission...Thalia had followed her lead and sent Hunters to stake out every known entrance to the Labyrinth while scouting for new ones, but even when she got an update later Percy was alive, it hadn't erased the fear still buried in Annabeth's eyes of when this was going to happen again.

Heads turned. People gasped.

"Percy!" Beckendorf grinned. A bunch of other kids crowded around me and clapped me on the back.

"You have no idea how relieved we are you're back Percy," the way Will spoke present tense gave Percy a jolt. He knew he was missing again, but it didn't fully click with this moment until now. Then Will said with the same sincere tone, "You have no idea how stressful auditions were for the reenactment with the bar you keep setting."

"Will," Percy spluttered. "Stop with the- tell me that's a joke man!"

He kept reading as if he hadn't heard a thing.

I heard a few curses from the Ares cabin, but Clarisse just rolled her eyes, like she couldn't believe I'd had the nerve to survive. Chiron cantered over and everyone made way for him.

"Well," he sighed with obvious relief. "I don't believe I've ever been happier to see a camper return.

"Hey, you trumped Annabeth at last!" Nico smirked. "Official favorite of the camp, ask to get that in writing."

"Do you guys want Annabeth to duel me to the death?" Percy asked in exasperation. "Because this is how she will decide that is necessary."

But you must tell me—"

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Annabeth interrupted, shoving aside the other campers.

'Bed empty, no note, car gone,' Alex snickered to himself as he signed all that to Magnus.

'He could have died! He could have been seen!' Magnus happily finished with his own before they burst out laughing much to everyone else's confusion, even Thalia's. Knowing the signs didn't mean she knew the quote.

I thought she was going to punch me, but instead she hugged me so fiercely she nearly cracked my ribs.

"We now have a very clear warning sign for when Annabeth's about to show you affection," Thalia chuckled. "Every time you think she's about to slug you."

"Piss her off to get her attention, classic misbehaved child 101," Percy agreed with clear relief. He'd take a hundred broken ribs if he could just have her back already.

The other campers fell silent.

Annabeth seemed to realize she was making a scene and pushed me away.

"I—we thought you were dead, Seaweed Brain!"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I got lost."

"What I just heard was never, ever give this boy a map," Jason snorted.

"He took a wrong turn at Albuquerque," Magnus smirked, causing Will to snort hard with laughter at the referance.

"He got blown into the stratosphere without a compass, I'd give him a minor pass," Will composed himself enough to say. At least he'd come back.

"LOST?" she yelled. "Two weeks, Percy? Where in the world—"

"Annabeth," Chiron interrupted. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities!"

"Funerals over, chop chop, back to your regularly scheduled program of trying not to be next," Magnus said in a pretty good imitation of an announcer's voice.

Without waiting for us to protest, he picked up Annabeth and me as easily as if we were kittens, slung us both on his back, and galloped off toward the Big House.

"I now desperately need to put Chiron into a weightlifting competition," Jason burst out laughing. "Can he carry a whole cart of supplies on his lower half and another half on his human back?"

"He does carry that Camp's responsibility on both his backs all his own," Will said sadly. It's not like Mr. D was any real help. "Wouldn't surprise me if he could take over Atlas's job for a bit without real strain."

I didn't tell them the whole story. I just couldn't bring myself to talk about Calypso. I explained how I'd caused the explosion at Mount St. Helens and gotten blasted out of the volcano. I told them I'd been marooned on an island. Then Hephaestus had found me and told me I could leave. A magic raft had carried me back to camp.

All that was true, but as I said it my palms felt sweaty.

"Aw Percy, I never really suspected you'd lie to Annabeth," Magnus admitted.

Percy licked his lips and kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't resent them for knowing about Calypso, the more who knew about her curse the more likely it could be fixed.

He still wanted Annabeth in here every other word, he'd trade away every intimate moment he had to get one paragraph with her.

But none of that changed a hollow feeling he now knew he'd always have in him. It had grown smaller with time, he'd learned to live around it, but an island-shaped spot he didn't know how to shake, let alone talk about with Annabeth.

"You've been gone two weeks." Annabeth's voice was steadier now, but she still looked pretty shaken up. "When I heard the explosion, I thought—"

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. But I figured out how to get through the Labyrinth.

Will sighed at Percy just glossing over Annabeth's fear of his mortality. She had been through a lot with Luke and Thalia leaving her behind, he wished Percy had given her a chance to express herself.

Percy didn't seem ready to hear it though, as he continued rubbing at his necklace, each bead flipping between his fingers with nerves. Will knew he was beating himself up over there for scaring her so much and yet a part of him was still guilty over leaving behind Calypso. He left Percy in peace and kept reading, for now.

I talked to Hephaestus."

"He told you the answer?"

"Well, he sort of told me that I already knew. And I do. I understand now."

I told them my idea.

"Was it a good one?" Alex cheerfully sarcasamed even knowing the answer.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Percy grinned along.

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Percy, that's crazy!"

"As opposed to every other plan he's ever had," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"Why is the book being cryptic about it?" Jason asked blankly. "There's only been two mortals that have clear sight. You've yet to bring your mom on an adventure, and you now go to the same school with Rachel. It's obviously going to be one of them with my money on Rachel."

"Don't look at me man, I didn't write them," Percy shrugged. His mom hadn't even crossed his mind. The moment he understood, he knew Rachel was the one to ask. It all fell into place a little to perfectly, running into her twice in a row.

Chiron sat back in his wheelchair and stroked his beard. "There is precedent, however. Theseus had the help of Ariadne. Harriet Tubman, daughter of Hermes, used many mortals on her Underground Railroad for just this reason."

"I seriously need an entire history class from Chiron right now," Jason sighed with longing.

"I will ban you from this camp if you try to set up classrooms," Percy scowled.

"Volunteer classrooms?" He pleaded.

"No! Annabeth would spend all her free time in them!" Percy insisted.

"Boys," Thalia patiently cut in. "Time and place you two. Kill each other over this later." Besides, Percy already knew it was a lost cause by the defeated look on his face. Annabeth would have a blast designing such a thing, let alone being in them, and he'd never deny her that.

"But this is my quest," Annabeth said. "I need to lead it."

Nico's face twitched with the urge not to scowl at this pompous princess, just like Zoe had been. Not wanting to admit she needed people just because she didn't like them- wait. Oh gods. Was he like that too?!

Percy noticed Nico's sudden dumbstruck expression and asked, "What?" Before he could think better of it.

"Nothing," Nico said quickly. He'd just drawn everybody's attention however, and did not like it.

"Uhuh," Percy frowned, but he hadn't a clue what to make of it.

Will cautiously kept reading, leaving Nico to stew alone in his thoughts for now as he realized he might have the same kind of trust problems as two people he'd never liked.

Chiron looked uncomfortable. "My dear, it is your quest. But you need help."

Then Thalia just made it worse with her half-hearted laugh. "Oh if only she'd met Zoe and could hear how hilarious this was."

"Or Clarisse," Jason agreed. Though apparently her siblings had refused, she'd never asked the obvious duo who would go and tried to do it alone instead. "Only Percy has avoided this problem so far, and it's kind of worrisome."

"Percy will take any shmuck on a quest, I don't know how much of a good thing that is," Magnus shook his head. "He'd take me if I asked."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Percy grinned. "An untrained guy who would just run around screaming would be a great distraction while I kill the monster."

"Thanks, happy to help," Magnus sighed while Nico still struggled to get his composure back in place to much to laugh along like he'd want to now.

"And this is supposed to help? Please! It's wrong. It's cowardly. It's—"

"Hard to admit we need a mortal's help," I said. "But it's true."

Annabeth glared at me. "You are the single most annoying person I have ever met!" And she stormed out of the room.

"I think that means she agreed," Will stage whispered.

"I think she's imagining ripping his lips off next," Thalia snorted.

I stared at the doorway. I felt like hitting something. "So much for being the bravest friend she's ever had."

"She said probably," Alex would be remiss not to remind. "I'm sure she's rethinking that list now."

"Yes! Number one again!" Thalia cheered while Percy easily redirected his annoyance onto her instead of the building structure while Will kept reading to avoid any hitting.

"She will calm down," Chiron promised. "She's jealous, my boy."

Magnus chewed on that with a terrified kind of guilt. He'd grown up with Annabeth as his cousin, but hadn't seen her in over ten years. He had more immediate memories of spending time with Percy than her. Gods he was suddenly grateful she wasn't here, because this sounded like an awful situation to be in the middle of as Percy stammered over his frustration in here, and he could not imagine how she'd be taking this trip down memory lane, which bothered him as much as anything.

He could expect Percy to be blushy, confused, and embarrassed, but he had no clue how his own cousin would be right now. Jealous still? Resentful at all of their mild laughter? Demanding of him or Thalia if she'd really been that obvious? Any outcome possible made his stomach curl with stress because he just didn't know the right answer not to make her angry at him.

"That's stupid. She's not...it's not like..."

Chiron chuckled. "It hardly matters. Annabeth is very territorial about her friends, in case you haven't noticed.

"Vibrantly," Thalia sighed.

"Personally," Percy huffed with the same side-eyed look at her, but he didn't get how that related to this moment.

She was quite worried about you. And now that you're back, I think she suspects where you were marooned."

I met his eyes, and I knew Chiron had guessed about Calypso. It was hard to hide anything from a guy who's been training heroes for three thousand years. He's pretty much seen it all.

"I'm coming up blank on an instance where you have surprised Chiron," Jason agreed.

"Which is clearly something Percy should strive for," Alex nodded seriously.

"We won't dwell on your choices," Chiron said. "You came back. That is what matters."

"Tell that to Annabeth."

Chiron smiled. "In the morning I will have Argus take the two of you into Manhattan.

"Does Annabeth try to blow up a bus with you inside it this time?" Alex chuckled. "That'll teach you to make her jealous."

Percy looked a tad horrified for a second as he really wasn't sure if the answer was no.

You might stop by your mother's, Percy. She is...understandably distraught."

My heart skipped a beat. All that time on Calypso's island, I'd never even thought how my mom would be feeling. She'd think I was dead. She'd be devastated. What was wrong with me that I hadn't even considered that?

Percy had in here, he frowned as he rubbed at his temple, but he still felt selfish for not having so back then. Gods, he didn't deserve his mom more and more with every crazy stunt he did. Maybe it would have been better if he'd stayed on that island, where Annabeth would have moved on in peace rather than wanting to throw a bus at him and his mom constantly in fear for him... it would have just been a relief to them both if he'd-

Thalia smacked him. Hard. "Focus Persnickety," she snapped.

"Right," Percy rubbed absently at the spot as he nodded his thanks. What's done is done, he had left. While he still had half a mind of going back and helping Calypso and maybe using that place as a secret bunker to get away from his life some time, he knew without a doubt he'd still never be able to stay there permanently no matter how many peoples lives he messed up.

"Chiron," I said, "what about Grover and Tyson? Do you think—"

"I don't know, my boy." Chiron gazed into the empty fireplace. "Juniper is quite distressed. All her branches are turning yellow. The Council of Cloven Elders had revoked Grover's searcher license in absentia. Assuming he comes back alive, they will force him into a shameful exile."

Percy looked like he was trying to chew up a metal fork in Grover's absence. He was so agitated at himself for leaving those two behind, at that stupid Council for not caring what state Grover would come back in.

He sighed. "Grover and Tyson are very resourceful, however. We can still hope."

"Someone should start a Make a Wish Foundation for as much as Chiron says that," Will grumbled. It wasn't bad advice, sparingly.

"I shouldn't have let them run off."

"I do not think you could have stopped them," Thalia reminded.

Percy wanted to argue, that he should have gone with them rather than the fiasco he'd caused. Maybe they would have found Pan and he would have given them the same secret of how to properly navigate the labyrinth without his fiery sidestep.

He had already lived for days in the question of what if though. It had yet done him a single bit of good.

"Grover has his own destiny, and Tyson was brave to follow him. You would know if Grover was in mortal danger, don't you think?"

"I suppose. The empathy link. But—"

"There is something else I should tell you, Percy," he said. "Actually two unpleasant things."

"Is there an actual limit on this?" Percy groaned. "Have I not hit my cap for a lifetime?"

Thalia was patting him on the shoulder as Nico thought to himself he hadn't yet, and he was pretty sure he would first.

"Great."

"Chris Rodriguez, our guest..."

I remembered what I'd seen in the basement, Clarisse trying to talk to him while he babbled about the Labyrinth. "Is he dead?"

"Not yet," Chiron said grimly. "But he's much worse. He's in the infirmary now, too weak to move.

Jason wanted to protest his own parent hadn't shown up to try and mend this...but the answer felt juvenile flitting through his mind. Like he may as well be disappointed in Santa for not bringing a gift. Something of this felt normal in a way that didn't feel good, desensitized. He was used to the Gods uncaring what happened he supposed.

 I had to order Clarisse back to her regular schedule, because she was at his bedside constantly.

Will's mouth twitched unpleasantly as Chiron shared that private information. He was sure if Clarisse were here she'd have turned them all into powder by whatever means necessary rather than letting those looks of pitiful sorrow linger in here for a second.

He doesn't respond to anything. He won't take food or drink. None of my medicines help. He has simply lost the will to live."

Magnus closed his eyes to try and hide how hard that hit him. He saw way to much of it, knew how easily it could happen if left alone with your own madness. He didn't know anything about Chris, but he had been him for a cold minute. Magnus hoped he met Clarisse now, to try and tell her it wasn't her fault, even if she punched him in the face for it.

I shuddered. Despite all the run-ins I'd had with Clarisse, I felt horrible for her. She'd tried so hard to help him. And now that I'd been in the Labyrinth, I could understand why it had been so easy for the ghost of Minos to drive Chris mad. If I'd been wandering around down there alone, without my friends to help, I'd never have made it out.

Alex fidgeted with his hair for a moment as he tried not to feel called out. That he'd have probably jumped into that labyrinth by himself and possibly ended the same way. He didn't usually think of himself as a conceited person, but he never excused himself from proudly proclaiming to be a lone wolf.

"I'm sorry to say," Chiron continued, "the other news is less pleasant still.

There was no jokes or sarcastic commentary for what that might be. They were all tired of the constant stress and bad news that was Percy's life.

Quintus has disappeared."

Percy made such a blistering sigh they were surprised not to see a trail of smoke from his lips. Alex felt much the same, he had really been hoping the badass demigod with the coolest dog ever who had outlived a life expectancy of teenager wouldn't turn out to be an evil bad guy, working for Kronos or otherwise.

"Disappeared? How?"

"I'm assuming you will not take the answer, into thin air?" Thalia snorted.

"I'm over here hoping he just went for some cigarettes and is never coming back," Jason scowled.

"Three nights ago he slipped into the Labyrinth. Juniper watched him go.

"I hope Juniper is getting paid for all this espionage stuff," Nico huffed.

"I'm not sure if she'd know what to do with anything other than extra fertilizer," Will admitted.

It appears you may have been right about him."

Percy wasn't particularly thrilled somebody, Chiron of all people, was admitting he was right. It was like if Annabeth ever admitted he was right about Luke. It just wouldn't feel good in any circumstances where he didn't want to be right.

"He's a spy for Luke." I told Chiron about the Triple G Ranch—how Quintus had bought his scorpions there and Geryon had been supplying Kronos's army. "It can't be a coincidence."

Chiron sighed heavily. "So many betrayals. I had hoped Quintus would prove a friend. It seems my judgment was bad."

Thalia knew exactly how Percy was feeling. She didn't want to hear Chiron was, 'human.' That he had faulty judgment and could still be fooled after all these years. That his kinder, gentler side had a weakness.

"What about Mrs. O'Leary?" I asked.

"What do you mean what about her?" Alex looked at him like he was nuts, which was not a new expression by any means. "He took his dog."

Percy no longer had the whistle on him, but he toyed with the icy cold of it in his mind. He was missing some connection there as that hellhound and Annabeth tumbled around in his thoughts.

"The hellhound is still in the arena. It won't let anyone approach. I did not have the heart to force it into a cage...or destroy it."

Alex made a deep noise of anger quite close to a growl. That Chiron had slipped into calling her an it the moment he saw her as a monster again, that Mrs. O'Leary had been abandoned, that nobody was likely ever going to trust that dog again and she was going to just vanish into the forest never to be seen again.

"Quintus wouldn't just leave her."

The stuttering noises of surprise around Percy didn't cover his own feelings.

Annabeth didn't talk about her first few months at camp, but he got the sense Luke had been more distant than he was on the streets. Quieter. Annabeth blamed herself for not spotting what was coming sooner as much as she denied nothing had to change permanently.

Quintus had raised that dog when he didn't have to. Something about him abandoning her after giving him a whistle to summon her to danger felt callous and unloving, and yet did not match with the man he'd met who had thrown himself in front of that massive dog and kept her around all these years as a companion.

The connection felt obvious, but the pieces didn't fit.

"As I said, Percy, we seem to have been wrong about him. Now, you should prepare yourself for the morning. You and Annabeth still have much to do."

"Glad you're back, now get lost," Magnus muttered.

Nico poorly smothered a laugh he felt the same way. They usually skipped to step two with him, but it was nice to hear Percy didn't have week long parties because he came back.

I left him in his wheelchair, staring sadly into the fireplace. I wondered how many times he'd sat here, waiting for heroes that never came back.

Jason didn't know how to share his own troubled thoughts with that. To hope that anyone even missed him already felt like asking a lot of the world. He had no feeling, no connection to the idea of a kind old mentor like this centaur was to so many.

Before dinner I stopped by the sword arena. Sure enough, Mrs. O'Leary was curled up in an enormous black furry mound in the middle of the stadium, chewing halfheartedly on the head of a warrior dummy.

"That poor baby," Magnus said with all his heart.

"When you find Quintus, I need you to punch him in the face just for this," Alex told him.

"It is on my to do list," Percy sighed.

When she saw me, she barked and came bounding toward me. I thought I was dead meat.

"I hate to be the one to inform you of this Percy, but you are very alive meat," Jason informed him.

"Yeah, she's a good girl like that," Percy chuckled.

I just had time to say, "Whoa!" before she bowled me over and started licking my face. Now usually, being the son of Poseidon and all, I only get wet if I want to, but my powers apparently did not extend to dog saliva, because I got a pretty good bath.

"About time," Thalia plugged up her nose. "We were about to stage an intervention."

"So I'm curious," Alex began in a very dangerous, curious tone. "When you do get in the shower, do you have to concentrate the whole time on the water getting to you? That sounds like an exhausting and fair excuse to do so sparingly."

"Usually I just have to think about it when I get in," Percy said in a long suffering voice like Nico was still following him around all these years later trying to interrogate him.

"Whoa, girl!" I yelled. "Can't breathe. Lemme up!"

Eventually I managed to get her off me. I scratched her ears and found her an extra-gigantic dog biscuit.

"Where's your master?" I asked. Her. "How could he just leave you, huh?"

She whimpered like she wanted to know that, too. I was ready to believe Quintus was an enemy, but still I couldn't understand why he'd leave Mrs. O'Leary behind. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that he really cared for his megadog.

"You'd kind of have to, to pick up after her," Will agreed with a sad smile. He was guilty of leaving plates of food around for her. She growled if he got to close, but the eggs and bacon were always gone when he came back.

I was thinking about that and toweling the dog spit off my face when a girl's voice said, "You're lucky she didn't bite your head off."

"The amount of times Percy is lucky a she didn't bite his head off has its own chart," Jason grinned.

"And the he's?" Alex asked with interest.

"I will not reveal my data until all is complete," his grin widened, "but slim in comparison."

Clarisse was standing at the other end of the arena with her sword and shield. "Came here to practice yesterday," she grumbled. "Dog tried to chew me up."

"A worthy challenge Clarisse took to with nothing but pride I'm sure," Nico said.

"Hey, what better practice than the real thing," Percy agreed.

Will snorted and declined mentioning the camp was out of sausages for a month after that day.

"She's an intelligent dog," I said.

"Funny."

Jason gave a theatrical sigh and an imaginary check mark.

She walked toward us. Mrs. O'Leary growled, but I patted her on the head and calmed her down.

"Stupid hellhound," Clarisse said. "Not going to keep me from practicing."

"I heard about Chris," I said. "I'm sorry."

Clarisse paced a circle around the arena. When she came to the nearest dummy, she attacked viciously, chopping its head off with a single blow and driving her sword through its guts. She pulled the sword out and kept walking.

"Those dummies won't be bothering anybody anymore." The last time Percy had said that, it was to someone he liked a whole lot more. He'd learned to respect Clarisse's pride a bit over the years, but even saying that again in a joking manner felt like a bad omen for some reason.

"Yeah, well. Sometimes things go wrong." Her voice was shaky. "Heroes get hurt. They...they die, and the monsters just keep coming back."

She picked up a javelin and threw it across the arena. It nailed a dummy straight between the eyeholes of its helmet.

Nobody had needed her to punctuate her point like that. The endless cycle she spoke of could relate back to a hundred things in the rest of the world. Nico knew intimately he could dismantle every machine Hephaestus had ever built and the god would never stop making more, nor would the act bring his sister back.

She had called Chris a hero, like he had never gone over to the Titan's side. It reminded me of the way Annabeth sometimes talked about Luke. I decided not to bring that up.

"Look at you valuing your life for once," Thalia shook her head, while Jason made another check mark.

"Chris was brave," I said. "I hope he gets better."

She glared at me as if I were her next target. Mrs. O'Leary growled.

"That, is seven layers of terrifying," Magnus shivered. He would have been hauling out of that room like he was a dummy with a brain.

"Those two are not to be trifled with," Alex said cheerfully.

"Are we doing baking puns now?" Percy asked blankly, absently noting Magnus never corrected Alex on his stupid grammering. "Why is that a thing?"

"You know you want to jump in Perce, your mom's a killer baker," Alex grinned.

Will kept reading in the silence and Percy wasn't going to be the one to argue the point.

"Do me a favor," Clarisse told me.

"Yeah, sure."

"I cannot begin to imagine what kind of favor Clarisse would ask of anyone, let alone you," Jason admitted.

"To come up with as cool a nickname as Prissy," Alex smirked.

It probably wouldn't kill them if he just flicked their couches over, Percy thought to himself. Just a tiny flick of his finger, that's all it would take... Will was saving a lot of lives today by reading through his thoughts.

"If you find Daedalus, don't trust him. Don't ask him for help. Just kill him."

"Clarisse—"

"Because anybody who can make something like the Labyrinth, Percy? That person is evil. Plain evil."

"Growing more relieved by the page Clarisse did not come on this quest with Annabeth," Thalia said. They absolutely would have murdered each other by now having a too spirited debate about the outcome of all this.

For a second she reminded me of Eurytion the cowherd, her much older half brother. She had the same hard look in her eyes, as if she'd been used for the past two thousand years and was getting tired of it.

Nico wondered if she'd prayed to her dad for help about Chris and got no answer. If she'd spent countless hours considering any method worth it to get Chris back...

He finally had to reach the conclusion it might be something other than Stockholm's syndrome making him want to return to camp and stay there if he could find something in common with even Clarisse.

She sheathed her sword. "Practice time is over. From now on, it's for real."

Magnus had never believed for an instant any of this was playtime and funsies. Maybe it was just because he was hearing all of this from Percy, the kid who had been chased there by a minotaur and had his mom nearly killed for it, but this camp had never felt so much as a safe sanctuary to practice in as a ground for warriors in training to survive with silly arts and crafts tables to make it seem less dower.

Clarisse was always a huge part of that too. From the beginning she came across rough, the military brat who was going to get away with everything and make everyone's life miserable for it.

Instead she got a touch more human every time she interacted with Percy, leaving Magnus with a guilty feeling he wasn't immune to preconceived judgment.

That night I slept in my own bunk, and for the first time since Calypso's Island, dreams found me.

"You make it sound like they stock you," Jason said with a touch of sympathy.

"It's Grover, he's gawking everybody now," Thalia said with a hint of hope that's all this would be, more horrors showing their favorite satyr alive with Tyson.

I was in a king's courtroom—

"Someone's going to either threaten to decapitate someone or shout for guards by the end of this, it's inevitable," Will sighed.

"If Percy were actually in there, you know something unpredictable would happen," Jason managed to say like it was a compliment. "Maybe confetti would rain down or something."

"I walk around with glitter in my pockets just in case I need to throw someone off," Percy nodded seriously.

"How much time do you spend in courtrooms?" Nico asked Will, completely ignoring the two of them.

"The judge has put a gag order on me from answering," Will said a little too innocently.

a big white chamber with marble columns and a wooden throne. Sitting on it was a plump guy with curly red hair and a crown of laurels. At his side stood three girls who looked like his daughters. They all had his red hair and were dressed in blue robes.

The doors creaked open and a herald announced, "Minos, King of Crete!"

I tensed, but the man on the throne just smiled at his daughters. "I can't wait to see the expression on his face."

"Yeah, neither can I," Percy said with his stomach in knots and dread in every syllable. He still had no idea how Daedalus had been in the dungeon of Minos in the first place, but getting more of this story didn't seem to be easing towards a good outcome no matter the original cause.

It was only the tiniest bit better than following the inventor himself to see who he'd murder next.

Minos, the royal creep himself,

"I really hope somebody went out of their way to spray-paint that on his throne at least once," Thalia chuckled.

swept into the room. He was so tall and serious he made the other king look silly. Minos's pointed beard had gone gray. He looked thinner than the last time I'd dreamed of him, and his sandals were splattered with mud, but the same cruel light shined in his eyes.

"Because if that wasn't there we'd know he was an imposter or something," Nico huffed, still bitter at Percy for constantly describing this guy as cartoonishly evil like he'd been to dense to notice.

He bowed stiffly to the man on the throne.

"Does one king bow to another?" Percy asked blankly. He'd been a little detached in his dream to care.

"There's some politics involved and a hierarchy I have no clue about," Thalia shrugged.

"King Cocalus. I understand you have solved my little riddle?"

Cocalus smiled. "Hardly little, Minos. Especially when you advertise across the world that you are willing to pay a thousand gold talents to the one who can solve it. Is the offer genuine?"

Minos clapped his hands. Two buff guards walked in, struggling with a big wooden crate. They set it at Cocalus's feet and opened it. Stacks of gold bars glittered. It had to be worth like a gazillion dollars.

"Do you know what the difference between a million and a billion is Percy?" Magnus asked with amusement. "A million seconds is 12 days. A billion seconds is 31 years."

"So a gazillion is enough to make it far into the future where Godzilla has brought about world peace," Percy grinned.

Cocalus whistled appreciatively. "You must have bankrupted your kingdom for such a reward, my friend."

"That is not your concern."

"I think that sounds like a general concern to the commerce world," Magnus offered. He was vaguely confident enough economy's had a way of bouncing off each other.

Cocalus shrugged. "The riddle was quite simple, really. One of my retainers solved it."

"Father," one of the girls warned. She looked like the oldest—a little taller than her sisters.

Cocalus ignored her.

"Cocalus is going to die," Jason said with a weird amount of confidence. This guy going around ignoring someone just kind of spelled it out.

"Everybody dies eventually Jason, keep up," Nico snorted.

He took a spiral seashell from the folds of his robe.

A silver string had been threaded through it, so it hung like a huge bead on a necklace.

"That's one hell of a fashion statement," Alex snorted, making Magnus immediately envision him wearing one and then fighting not to blush.

Minos stepped forward and took the shell. "One of your retainers, you say? How did he thread the string without breaking the shell?"

"He used an ant, if you can believe it. Tied a silk string to the little creature and coaxed it through the shell by putting honey at the far end."

"That was the height of science back then huh?" Percy snickered.

"How much farther have we really gotten?" Thalia rolled her eyes. "I won't be impressed until we can thread a silk string through a blackhole."

"Ingenious man," Minos said.

"Oh, indeed. My daughters' tutor. They are quite fond of him."

Minos's eyes turned cold. "I would be careful of that."

I wanted to warn Cocalus: Don't trust this guy! Throw him in the dungeon with some man-eating lions or something!

"Those poor lions," Will said tragically, "they'd have indigestion for weeks."

"It's to fast and painless a death for him anyways, cats always go for the neck," Alex said with way to much confidence.

But the redheaded king just chuckled. "Not to worry, Minos. My daughters are wise beyond their years. Now, about my gold—"

"Yes," Minos said. "But you see the gold is for the man who solved the riddle. And there can be only one such man. You are harboring Daedalus."

Cocalus shifted uncomfortably on his throne. "How is that you know his name?"

"He is a thief," Minos said. "He once worked in my court, Cocalus. He turned my own daughter against me. He helped a usurper make a fool of me in my own palace. And then he escaped justice. I have been pursuing him for ten years."

"At what point is a grudge going to far?" Jason asked. "Six months? A year? A year and three months?"

"I have to grudgingly admire anyone who can dedicate their life to something, I know I don't have the attention span for it," Percy scoffed.

"I knew nothing of this. But I have offered the man my protection. He has been a most useful—"

"I offer you a choice," Minos said. "Turn over the fugitive to me, and this gold is yours. Or risk making me your enemy. You do not want Crete as your enemy."

Cocalus paled. I thought it was stupid for him to look so scared in the middle of his own throne room. He should've summoned his army or something. Minos only had two guards. But Cocalus just sat there sweating on his throne.

"How big a country was Crete?" Magnus asked. "Would it be like North Dakota vs South Dakota, or like Asia versus Australia."

"The, first," Thalia answered as well as she could. "More like Crete is California and Cocalus is the King of New Jersey. One is infinitely more big and powerful than the other, but they are connected."

"Well now I'm not sure I want Cocalus to come out of this on top though," Percy frowned. Thalia smacked him and threatened to staple a New Yorker pin to his head as Will tried to keep going.

"Father," his oldest daughter said, "you can't—"

"Silence, Aelia." Cocalus twisted his beard. He looked again at the glittering gold. "This pains me, Minos. The gods do not love a man who breaks his oath of hospitality."

"The gods do not love those who harbor criminals, either."

"Depends on the god?" Nico said with an awkward smile.

"Yeah, got to give him that one." Percy sighed. He could just imagine Zeus harboring a criminal and breaking every oath of hospitality if it suited him.

Cocalus nodded. "Very well. You shall have your man in chains."

"Father!" Aelia said again. Then she caught herself, and changed her voice to a sweeter tone. "At—at least let us feast our gust first. After his long journey, he should be treated to a hot bath, new clothes, and a decent meal. I would be honored to draw the bath myself."

"If anybody falls for this, they deserve what happens to them next," Alex rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt.

"Yeah," Magnus agreed with a pained wince. It didn't feel great to blindly condone whatever mayhem was bound to happen next, but if the crown fit...

She smiled prettily at Minos, and the old king grunted. "I suppose a bath would not be amiss." He looked at Cocalus. "I will see you at dinner, my lord. With the prisoner."

"Now what, oh what could be hiding in that bathtub?" Alex's eyes lit up at his favorite game of guessing the next carnage. "Piranhas? Is someone going to get soap in his eye? Is he going to be stabbed in the shower?"

Percy began making a terrible recreation noise of the Slasher theme while the others all laughed, and Magnus was the only one wondering if they were all kind of terrifying for laughing at the probable murder that was about to happen.

"This way, Your Majesty," said Aelia. She and her sisters led Minos out of the chamber.

I followed them into a bath chamber decorated with mosaic tiles. Steam filled the air. A running-water faucet poured hot water into the tub.

Magnus was immediately distracted from his thoughts of psychopaths to ask, "they had pipes and hot water?"

"Plumbing is as old as the gods, confirmed," Percy snorted.

Aelia and her sisters filled it with rose petals and something that must've been Ancient Greek Mr. Bubble, because soon the water was covered with multicolored foam. The girls turned aside as Minos dropped his robes and slipped into the bath.

"Ahh." He smiled. "An excellent bath. Thank you, my dears. The journey has been long indeed."

"You have been chasing your prey ten years, my lord?" Aelia asked, batting her eyelashes. "You must be very determined."

"I never forget a debt." Minos grinned. "Your father was wise to agree to my demands."

"Oh, indeed, my lord!" Aelia said. I thought she was laying on the flattery pretty thick, but the old guy was eating it up. Aelia's sisters trickled scented oil over the king's head.

"She was literally just arguing with her dad against this," Jason rolled his eyes. "It's almost sad how easy this guy is to kill, all Daedalus had to do was flatter him for a moment and he could have stabbed him."

"Might have worked on Daedalus too," Percy muttered. If he was willing to murder a kid who had insulted his ego, it might have worked the other way too.

"You know, my lord," Aelia said, "Daedalus thought you would come. He thought the riddle might be a trap, but he couldn't resist solving it."

"Why does it not surprise me all children of Athena seem to have the same flaw," Alex said rhetorically.

"Because it would be ridiculous if one of them got the opposite, but a lot more interesting about their mortal parent," Will said curiously anyways. They might have very well gone off on a whole talk about it if Thalia hadn't cleared her throat to keep them on track.

Minos frowned. "Daedalus spoke to you about me?"

"All flowery language and very polite I'm sure," Nico smirked.

"Yes, my lord."

"He is a bad man, princess. My own daughter fell under his spell. Do not listen to him."

"He is a genius," Aelia said. "And he believes a woman is just as smart as a man. He was the first to ever teach us as if we had minds of our own. Perhaps your daughter felt the same way."

Minos tried to sit up, but Aelia's sisters pushed him back into the water.

"I didn't realize the Greeks had gender problems," Magnus admitted. "They worship goddesses, a goddess of wisdom. How do they also think girls shouldn't learn and shit?"

"I have whole pamphlets on that mess from Artemis's time back then," Thalia rolled her eyes while Jason and Magnus looked ready to wrestle over who would read them first.

Aelia came up behind him. She held three tiny orbs in her palm. At first I thought they were bath beads.

Alex burst out laughing hard at the idea they were going to turn the water blood red to hide what they'd done and everybody in the palace was just going to think he was taking a long nap.

But she threw them in the water and the beads sprouted bronze threads that began wrapping around the king, tying him up at the ankles, binding his wrists to his sides, circling his neck. Even though I hated Minos, it was pretty horrible to watch. He thrashed and cried out, but the girls were much stronger. Soon he was helpless, lying in the bath with his chin just above the water. The bronze strands were still wrapping around him like a cocoon, tightening across his body.

"That is terrifying!" Magnus stated with every confidence. "Do the beads activate by water? Why did she have those?"

"I'm guessing Daedalus gave them to her for protection," Percy said with interest as he wondered if he could get his hands on some.

"Gods, what circumstances did he plan for these girls to sporadically give him a bath to make them?" Magnus was looking more traumatized by the second.

"They could just be activated some other way and we're not getting the whole blueprint," Thalia shrugged, plenty intrigued by these little things herself and wondering if Artemis would consider making them.

Magnus sighed, resigning himself to the fact he was in a room with a bunch of heroic murderers.

"Might name my first born child Aelia now," Alex said with pride, and Magnus somehow still sunk lower in his seat.

"What do you want?" Minos demanded. "Why do you do this?"

Aelia smiled.

"Is that not obvious at this point?" Jason snorted.

"One minded goal," Nico shrugged. Minos hadn't gotten over that even in death, everything Daedalus had ever done to wrong him was pretty much all he talked about when he wasn't guiding him on his powers. Gods, he'd been an idiot for not realizing the trick sooner.

"Daedalus has been kind to us, Your Majesty. And I do not like you threatening our father."

"Gods do I hope this girl got to rule her kingdom," Will grinned. "She's ruthless but compassionate, she sounds perfect."

Nico found himself mentally jotting that down with no real idea why.

"You tell Daedalus," Minos growled. "You tell him I will hound him even after death! If there is any justice in the Underworld, my soul will haunt him for eternity!"

Nico made a bleak noise of a laugh. Justice? In the Underworld? Minos had only made his way through there by scheming and lying to the right people just like on the mortal plane. Justice was an equal death for all he'd tried to evade. Minos was lucky Hades didn't always have the time to deal out justice for every soul who passed him and set up the judges instead.

"Brave words, Your Majesty," Aelia said. "I wish you luck finding your justice in the Underworld."

And with that, the bronze threads wrapped around Minos's face, making him a bronze mummy.

"Yeah, no," Magnus rubbed hard at his arms. "I am never taking a bath near a red head now, not happening."

"I hope one day you have to explain that and I'm there for every detail," Alex continued laughing without a care in the world.

The door of the bathhouse opened. Daedalus stepped in, carrying a traveler's bag.

Percy whistled impressively. "That is one way to get away with murder, not even being in the room."

"His invention, someone else's execution," Thalia agreed. "They should all go down, but he is a genius, no denying that."

"I'm actually disappointed he was just like, standing on the other side of the door or something," Will frowned. "Getting those girls to do his dirty work while he couldn't even watch. I'm glad if he's reformed and can't stand the idea of more murder he's caused, but that felt cowardly."

"I'm with Will, he should have looked him in the eye," Jason agreed with a feral smile.

Magnus once again sighed...but then conceded he wouldn't be a normal person if he was ever left alone with the god who had sicked wolves on his mom.

He'd trimmed his hair short. His beard was pure white. He looked frail and sad, but he reached down and touched the mummy's forehead. The threads unraveled and sank to the bottom of the tub. There was nothing inside them. It was as if King Minos had just dissolved.

"He definitely deserved something like flesh eating bugs and having all of his organs put in a jar before such a death," Alex scowled.

"The full mummification process was actually reserved for nobility, or very high class," Nico corrected. "It's a less dignifying death this way he got no special treatment."

"Fair," Alex shrugged.

"A painless death," Daedalus mused. "More than he deserved. Thank you, my princesses."

Aelia hugged him. "You cannot stay here, teacher. When our father finds out—"

"Yes," Daedalus said. "I fear I have brought you trouble."

"Oh, do not worry for us. Father will be happy enough taking that old man's gold. And Crete is a very long way away. But he will blame you for Minos's death. You must flee to somewhere safe."

Magnus didn't think that sounded like a very fair deal to Cocalus and his kingdom, now likely trapped in a war that was going to cost him all that gold if he wasn't over run when Crete found out that's where their ruler had died, but it also probably tied into a lot of factors he couldn't begin to guess at like if Crete would even care such a cruel man was dead and the power vacuum would be a more pressing concern for them.

"Somewhere safe," the old man repeated. "For years I have fled from kingdom to kingdom, looking for somewhere safe. I fear Minos told the truth. Death will not stop him from hounding me. There is no place under the sun that will harbor me, once word of this crime gets out."

Nico's mind spun around that for a moment. He'd never expected to have something in common with Daedalus. He wasn't even sure if he knew what the feeling of safe was anymore. His time at Westover Hall in ignorance was as close as he'd come before here.

"Then where will you go?" Aelia said.

"A place I swore never to enter again," Daedalus said.

"And that's why you shouldn't swear kids," Thalia snorted, "or at least only reserve it for serious situations."

"Like stubbing your toe, or making life binding vows," Percy grinned.

"My prison may be my only sanctuary."

"I do not understand," Aelia said.

"It's best you did not."

"But what of the Underworld?" one of her sisters asked. "Terrible judgment will await you! Every man must die."

"Perhaps," Daedalus said. Then he brought a scroll from his traveling bag—the same scroll I'd seen in my last dream, with his nephews notes. "Or perhaps not."

Percy wasn't sure if they'd gone as far into the past as they were going to with this guy, he could never tell with his dreams.

He didn't feel like he'd learned anything spectacularly inspiring about why he might still be in the maze to this day. For all he knew Daedalus still thought flip flops were the main form of travel and didn't even realize how much time had passed...but that answer didn't feel right. He was sure he was still missing a part of this story, and yet was in no way looking forward to the rest. Which didn't bode well for the rest of this quest.

He patted Aelia's shoulder, then blessed her and her sisters. He looked down once more at the coppery threads glinting in the bottom of the bath.

"What happens when they fish those out?" Percy mock whispered.

"I assume they don't use them to invent cable, but who knows?" Thalia shrugged.

"Find me if you dare, king of the ghosts."

"Hadn't Annabeth said something about that in her prophecy?" Alex well remembered she had, and didn't look pleased at this answer. "This is why? Because he's a ghost with a vengeance? I bet there are plenty of them like that."

Percy looked plenty troubled by that declaration. It felt off, misplaced, and his mind felt instantly pained for trying to understand why as Nico pursed up his lips rather than answer in any way.

He turned toward the mosaic wall and touched a tile. A glowing mark appeared—a Greek ∆—and the wall slid aside. The princesses gasped.

"You never told us of secret passages!" Aelia said. "You have been busy."

"The Labyrinth has been busy," Daedalus corrected. "Do not try to follow me, my dears, if you value your sanity."

"Have I mentioned how much I dislike everybody calling this thing alive?" Magnus sighed.

"At least he gives good advice for a murderer," Alex said cheerfully.

Well at least that meant Alex did value his sanity, not all of them were so sure about that before.

My dream shifted. I was underground in a stone chamber. Luke and another half-blood warrior were studying a map by flashlight.

"Yeah, I wanna go back to talking about the guy who helps girls study to be serial killers," Magnus scowled instantly at this guy popping up again.

"Seconded," Percy said with a low, dangerous tone to his voice once more.

Luke cursed. "It should've been the last turn." He crumpled up the map and tossed it aside.

"Sir!" his companion protested.

"Maps are useless here," Luke said.

"So, why was he looking at a map?" Nico asked in the same idiotic tone he would have asked Annabeth constantly trying to apply logic to this place.

"Bad influence? Hopefully Saturn is just as useless," Jason tried to say with some vague hope.

"Don't worry. I'll find it."

"Sir, is it true that the larger the group—"

"The more likely you get lost? Yes, that's true. Why do you think we sent out solo explorers to begin with?

"Personal entertainment," Thalia spat.

"Horrible strategizing," Jason said again. He really hoped Saturn was that bad.

But don't worry. As soon as we have the thread, we can lead the vanguard through."

"But how will we get the thread?"

Luke stood, flexing his fingers.

"Did he have his sword back on him?" Alex asked critically.

"No," Percy frowned at the still empty scabbard even in a place like this. He was either the cockiest bastard alive...or Percy was really missing something.

Or Luke had lost it and didn't have his mom around to magically find it behind the washing machine for him.

It was definitely one of those.

"Oh, Quintus will come through.

There was a collective shiver of disgust around the room. Nobody was happy the camp was double crossed like that.

All we have to do is reach the arena, and it's at the juncture. Impossible to get anywhere without passing it.

"Percy got several places without passing an arena," Magnus frowned.

"Nowhere important in the maze," Nico clarified. "You can wander in a circle all your life, but if you have a destination in mind, you can't get to it without passing through there." He had avoided it by dipping in and out of the underworld and mortal world as needed. His heritage and the help of the ghosts were the only reason.

"Great, details about the sentient maze and how it wants you dead, my favorite," Magnus muttered.

That's why we must have a truce with its master. We just have to stay alive until—"

"Sir!" a new voice came from the corridor. Another guy in Greek armor ran forward, carrying a torch.

Will was selfishly grateful for a moment Nico was still on that farm, safe away from this. He felt the tight pain of that the more he lingered on it. He never knew the number of how many kids were on Luke's side, he'd never wanted to. He certainly hadn't sat around and liked to think of Luke surrounded by monsters all day, but having kids on lookouts at every deadly corner still felt worse. Who was it that time? Little Tommy who kept saying he was going to grow up to be a doctor too? Jack who had plans to build a building-sized robot? Any of the kids who had just vanished over the years and were never seen again.

"The dracaenae found a half-blood!"

Luke scowled. "Alone? Wandering the maze?"

"Like he did to kids?" Thalia mock gasped, her voice acidic. "Is he going to see what he did to his own scouts?" She certainly hoped he'd had to face what he'd done to kids like Chris.

"Yes, sir! You'd better come quick. They're in the next chamber. They've got him cornered."

"Who is it?"

"No one I've ever seen before, sir."

Luke nodded. "A blessing from Kronos. We may be able to use this halfblood. Come!"

They ran down the corridor, and I woke with a start, staring into the dark.

A lone half-blood, wandering in the maze. It was a long time before I got to sleep again.

Percy chewed hard on the cap of his pen. His mind instantly jumped to Nico, but he was supposed to be safe at the farm, so he was very grateful it couldn't be him. That just left hundreds of other faceless kids who were scared beyond all reason, lost and alone, in there for any reason or no reason at all and about to play right into Luke's hand like he had.

Was Luke going to be charming to them? Friendly and inviting into his cool I Hate Gods Club with a pin and everything?

Or was his face going to be in shadows, his scar flickering in their torch light as he commanded the kid be used as a human sacrifice to shut up a pesky monster complaining about being hungry?

How was this random kid going to be of any more use then the ones already on that side of the war?

Thalia finally had to get his attention by taking the rest of his pen away, so that Riptide sprang to full form in her hand and nearly into the roof of his mouth if she wasn't so swift, while the cap dangled from his lips without a single bite mark on it.

He spat it out and snatched it back from her in betrayal, but at least now as he scooped up the top and put it back in his pocket they were sure he was paying attention again and not making the water darker and recede towards him like a hurricane on the horizon.

The next morning I made sure Mrs. O'Leary had enough dog biscuits. I asked Beckendorf to keep an eye on her, which he didn't seem too happy about.

"He'll warm up to her real quick when he straps a tool belt around her with literally every kind of hammer," Will chuckled.

"He should put a radio on her back, subwoofers," Thalia laughed.

Percy groaned and covered his ears like that was really the worst thing he'd ever heard while he poorly covered his laugh that matched everybody else's.

Then I hiked over Half-Blood Hill and met Annabeth and Argus on the road.

Annabeth and I didn't talk much in the van.

Percy felt like he was still finding sand from Ogygia in his pockets for days afterword's, and most of all in his mouth right now as he swallowed dry. There had been so much he wanted to say to her at the time...and now he couldn't think of a word.

Argus never spoke, probably because he had eyes all over his body, including—so I'd heard—at the tip of his tongue, and he didn't like to show that off.

"What a shame," Alex said, dearly wishing he could make an eyeball on his tongue right now.

Annabeth looked queasy, as if she'd slept even worse than me.

"And that takes some massive talent," Thalia shook her head.

"She always has to be better than me at everything," Percy sighed.

"Bad dreams?" I asked at last.

She shook her head. "An Iris-message from Eurytion."

Nico was surprised the old cow-heard had even noticed. He hadn't been unkind to Nico, but he'd been in his own little world, enjoying coming and going from the house as he pleased for the first time in a very long time. Always inviting Nico to sit down and eat dinner with him, but clearly enjoying his peace and quite as Nico had only stirred beans and brisket around on a plate.

"Eurytion! Is something wrong with Nico?"

Nico was ten times more surprised that was Percy's very first thought. Not that Quintus had showed up, not that Geryon was back already for revenge, not even that Nico had burned the place down in a fit of madness.

If something was wrong. If he was okay?

Will's voice was an instant spike of concern as well, and he was sitting right next to this doofus. It was so...he couldn't even think of the right word for it.

"He left the ranch last night, heading back into the maze."

"Nico was gone before he woke up. Orthus tracked his scent as far as the cattle guard. Eurytion said he'd been hearing Nico talk to himself the last few nights. Only now he thinks Nico was talking with the ghost again, Minos."

Nico sighed as he waited for the verbal abuse any second. He was such an idiot, how could he fall for that again?

It didn't come though.

For once he felt odd defending himself, because he didn't really feel like he needed to. "I, um, he convinced me you and Annabeth were back in the maze, he could sense it, and you two idiots were going to get yourself killed if I didn't come save your butts. He, he said he wanted you out of his maze before you figured out how it worked." He stopped and bit his lip as Percy watched him curiously, a smile on his face?!

"So, you came to help us?" Percy finally confirmed.

"I, yeah, if you put it that way," he quickly averted his eyes, swallowing a scowl and plenty of other snide answers. The guy had just helped him talk to his sister, his only wish, he'd felt he owed him. No. Other. Reason.

Nico sighed hard though and admitted to himself the other reason.

He'd been hoping to save Percy. Maybe to impress him. Show he wasn't just a weak kid.

It hadn't worked out that way...but he had helped...

"He's in danger," I said.

"No kidding. Minos is one of the judges of the dead, but he's got a vicious streak a mile wide. I don't know what he wants with Nico, but—"

"That's not what I meant," I said. "I had this dream last night..." I told her about Luke, how he'd mentioned Quintus, and how his men had found a half-blood alone in the maze.

Annabeth's jaw clenched. "That's very, very bad."

Nico's fingers fiddled with his ring, then drummed on his sword. A quick, agitated pattern. Very, very bad because he was now in Luke's clutches as a child of Hades? Or very, very bad because he was now in Luke's clutches as Bianca's brother?

Annabeth didn't know him at all, it was most likely the first. She was a strategist at heart, it was most likely the first.

But the way Will read it was the same tone he'd used to try persuading him to eat, the same harsh concern when he'd found out he planned to eat as little as possible.

Will seemed to think it was a very, very bad thing because he could get hurt. Judging by Percy's suddenly pale face, just like the one he'd had when he'd taken off into the forest by himself, so did he.

He wanted to tell them both he'd never been around Luke, he hadn't been captured and no cell could hold him...but he didn't want to mess with Percy's memories when he'd gone a decent amount of time without nearly killing them lately and he didn't want to be the one to break that streak.

"So what do we do?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's a good thing you have a plan to guide us, huh?"

"She sounds soooo sarcastic," Magnus laughed, and he wasn't even there to hear it. "I hope it's an unstoppable plan that goes off without a flaw Percy, or she's never going to let you hear the end of it."

"Yeah," Percy tried to agree with his usual casual smile, but something of it made his stomach quiver, ready to run for its life. He really hoped Rachel agreed to help...but then that would mean he'd be trapped in that maze with Rachel and Annabeth?!

It was Saturday, and traffic was heavy going into the city. We arrived at my mom's apartment around noon.

Percy watched the others startle in surprise. They'd all seemed pretty confident he was taking Rachel into the maze with him and probably just expected a phone call or something in mention.

He smiled though and asked Will to pause as he got up, stretched, and went off. He was only gone for a moment before he was back with a massive plate of blue cookies he seemed more likely to inhale up his nose before they made it to his mouth. He passed them around with the same strained smile his mom would have, Sally Jackson might have had batter on her own apron as she fussed over them.

The boy was plain homesick, and after so many back to back instances of feeling like he should be everywhere else, he sat back into his seat and munched on the closest thing he could get.

When she answered the door, she gave me a hug only a little less overwhelming than having a hellhound jump on you.

Will read that with a kind of unsure lilt to his voice, like he didn't know of what exactly he was reading for the first time. This was more weird and fantasy than the constant monster attacks.

He still wasn't sure if his own mom would recognize him walking down the street, he had no idea what kind of emotion to inflict into that.

"I told them you were all right," my mom said, but she sounded like the weight of the sky had just been lifted off her shoulders—and believe me, I know firsthand how that feels.

"It sounded something like, urgh, argh, owww," Alex helpfully reminded. "Your mom was speaking actual words."

Percy brushed the grey streaks of hair out of his eyes and shook his head at Alex without the usual eye roll. He could never really begrudge any of them when they talked about his mom like she was a more foreign concept than outer space.

She sat us down at the kitchen table and insisted on feeding us her special blue chocolate-chip cookies while we caught her up on the quest.

It was the end of that sentence that caused Percy to nearly choke on his own cookie. This should have been the afternoon he missed out on with Annabeth, after the movie. This was the exact scene he'd envisioned at the start of this trip down memory lane.

Now everything was all twisted and messed up. He'd already blown up another school and a volcano to boot, Annabeth was pissed at him, and he had no idea if Grover and Tyson were even alive.

As usual, I tried to water down the frightening parts (which was pretty much everything), but somehow that just made it sound more dangerous.

"How do you even begin with that?" Nico asked with interest. He'd never tried to tell a story to anybody and was struggling to imagine this scenario more than digging up a grave.

"Practice and fudge," Percy sighed as he tossed another morsel in.

When I got to the part about Geryon and the stables, my mom pretended like she was going to strangle me. "I can't get him to clean his room, but he'll clean a hundred tons of horse manure out of some monster's stables?"

A short but honest round of affectionate laughter went around the room, Thalia of course escalating the joke by demanding of him, "can't you reenact just this one scene Percy? For those in the audience who don't have a live performance!"

"Not a chance Thals," Percy chuckled as he remembered his moms eyes sparkling with amusement. It had been happening a lot more often with Paul around, but it still hadn't gotten old.

Annabeth laughed. It was the first time I'd heard her laugh in a long time, and it was nice to hear.

Percy sighed as he could still remember the exact moment too, her meeting him outside the school he'd set on fire. Laughing about him bumping into her. Even more recently...maybe...was the memory of her kissing him.

He hadn't actually gotten to hear her laugh since he woke up though, and a part of him that worried if he'd ever get out of this place began to gnaw at him if he ever would again.

"So," my mom said when I was done with the story, "you wrecked Alcatraz Island, made Mount St. Helens explode, and displaced half a million people, but at least you're safe." That's my mom, always looking on the bright side.

There was a joke somewhere in there about Apollo hitting on her next Thalia just didn't have the heart to put out. She struggled to pull up a memory about her mom, let alone one she didn't hate.

"Yep," I agreed. "That pretty much covers it."

"You skipped over being chased by Kampe and threatening to shoot Braries and how awesome Calypso was huh?" Jason asked. "Those could have been important details Percy." Like he was chastising someone not filling out a whole report.

"I also left out the part about Hera showing up and scolding me for not figuring out the obvious, and Janus making us miserable, and the toilet water that led to Tartarus. You know, all the minor details," Percy rolled his eyes.

"I wish Paul were here," she said, half to herself. "He wanted to talk to you."

"In what tone?" Alex's voice sounded territorial and a little scary and Percy's mind flashed up the horrible image of Alex strangling Paul with that garrote if he so much as raised his voice.

"I did blow up his school," Percy said quickly and fairly, "I'm pretty confident he would have just, you know, scalded me."

"I really hope you mean scolded," Magnus sighed, and when Percy laughed he realized that's exactly what he'd meant. There was that missing baking joke he knew he was capable of. The carefree noise set them all at ease. Percy had no clear memory of what did happen and obviously wasn't the least bit concerned about it, so that was of some comfort.

"Oh, right. The school."

"Back when your biggest concern was Rachel and cheerleading vampires," Will sighed.

"Oh the good times I never know to cherish," Percy mock agreed.

So much had happened since then that I'd almost forgotten about the high school orientation at Goode—the fact I'd left the band hall in flames, and my mom's boyfriend had last seen me jumping through a window like a fugitive.

"At least you didn't pull a gun on anybody and run off to join a gang?" Magnus offered.

"He does wear color coordinated outfits and has a kill count, I wouldn't count that last one out," Jason snorted.

"Says the guy with a mysterious tattoo," Percy smirked. "You could have ties to the mafia for all we know!"

"And won't that be a fun adventure to sort out together," Jason spread his arms wide with a mock smile like he was waiting for a group hug.

Thalia socked him in the ribs and told Will to get reading as she smothered her panic she had no clue what had happened to Jason all this time and she just didn't have it in her to laugh about it.

"What did you tell him?" I asked.

My mom shook her head. "What could I say? He knows something is different about you, Percy. He's a smart man. He believes that you're not a bad person. He doesn't know what's going on, but the school is pressuring him. After all, he got you admitted there. He needs to convince them the fire wasn't your fault. And since you ran away, that looks bad."

"So, despite an eye witness and a teacher who knows you and was first on the scene vouching you didn't do it, somebody still wants to blame you instead of the cheerleader," Alex clarified in disgust.

"Sounds about right," Percy said sullenly. He glared at the book for several long moments. His life had always boiled down to what others decided they knew of him on paper, everyone except his mom. Nobody had ever asked him why he'd beaten up that guy with a basketball because he had metal talons for nails. Nobody had ever wondered why he'd run away screaming from the principle's office because he kept showing a forked tongue. 

It was just the delinquent Percy Jackson, causing more trouble at every school.

 He wished he could have gotten Chiron on the phone, to go up there and tell them with Mist what 'really happened,' but he only just now thought about it right this second. He had a lot more on his mind back then.

Annabeth was studying me. She looked pretty sympathetic. I knew she'd been in similar situations. It's never easy for a half-blood in the mortal world.

"How, similar?" Magnus asked in concern.

"One time she dropped a whole bookshelf on a custodian because he was really some kind of four eyed monster she did not want to get a closer look at, he was coming at her with a trash bag." Percy sighed. He sounded quite proud all the same her younger self had managed that at all, "of course all the librarian saw was her seriously acting out and she had to get picked up by patrol cars and taken home because nobody could get her dad on the phone. She was almost about to spend the night in some random foster house before he showed up."

Thalia and Will had similar stories from their younger days in school while the others watched in miserable silence. Did every card have to be stacked against kids like them from the beginning?

"I'll talk to him," I promised. "After we're done with the quest. I'll even tell him the truth if you want."

"Can't get any worse?" Nico agreed in a tone that still expected it to.

"Nico, why would you say that?" Percy looked as hurt as if he'd just cussed out his mother.

"I, um, meant the quest," Nico scrambled to cover, because at least he knew Percy survived that. "Your quest can't get any worse, I was not saying any commentary at all about the rest of this situation in an effort to jinx you," he finished all in a rush.

Percy laughed, a good-faith noise that didn't hold a hint of a grudge against Nico for even hinting at that. Grudges weren't Percy's thing.

My mom put her hand on my shoulder. "You would do that?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he'll think we're crazy."

"He already thinks that."

"Then there's nothing to lose."

"Who's mocking his own existence now?" Will smirked.

"Me," Percy sighed, "why do you think I couldn't blame Nico for doing it? I can take what I dish out."

The others all laughed now, a friendly noise that soundly oddly supportive, but Nico was probably just imagining things.

"Thank you, Percy. I'll tell him you'll be home..." She frowned. "When? What happens now?"

Annabeth broke her cookie in half. "Percy has this plan."

"Taking her feelings out on the cookies," Alex said in betrayal. He'd been breaking them off in chunks to savor every bite.

"She ate the whole plate," Percy said with no regrets. "I was lucky I got four and all my fingers."

Reluctantly I told my mom.

She nodded slowly. "It sounds very dangerous. But it might work."

"You have the same abilities, don't you?" I asked. "You can see through the Mist."

My mom sighed. "Not so much now. When I was younger it was easier.

"How interesting," Jason said in the tone of someone about to do a whole thesis on this.

Magnus and Alex exchanged confused looks. They'd been pretty confident he meant Rachel at first, but now they weren't sure why Percy wasn't taking his mom. If she still could see through the Mist and Percy had even stopped by to see her and tell her everything, well, it would make sense to bring along someone Annabeth trusted wholeheartedly as well.

One look at Percy was the answer though. She'd lived to long in danger of her life having Percy in her home for short bursts. Percy would never indulge the idea for an instant putting her in any kind of harms way. If either of them had suggested it he'd think it treason.

But yes, I've always been able to see more than was good for me. It's one of the things that caught your father's attention, when we first met. Just be careful. Promise me you'll be safe."

"There's a broken promise before it starts," Thalia shivered at the last time Annabeth had promised that and she'd gone over the cliff with a manticore.

Percy had the exact same feeling wash over him and swallowed hard. He couldn't even fool himself the danger was even close to over.

"We'll try, Ms. Jackson," Annabeth said. "Keeping your son safe is a big job, though." She folded her arms and glared out the kitchen window. I picked at my napkin and tried not to say anything.

My mom frowned. "What's going on with you two? Have you been fighting?"

"It would be weirder if they weren't honestly," Magnus admitted.

"How you two ever went from insults to innuendos I haven't guessed yet," Alex agreed suggestively.

Percy turned a whole new color to blush as he tried to splutter a denial there were no innuendos or any 'in' or 'un' or 'dos' in sight, but he wasn't doing a great job even before Will put him out of his misery.

Neither of us said anything.

"I see," my mom said, and I wondered if she could see through more than just the Mist.

He got 'yes's,' and 'absolutely's' from each of his friends in various degrees. Percy sighed with odd pleasure they knew his mom and this situation so well. It made him feel a heck of a lot less like a disaster waiting to happen anyways they knew all the important details of his life instead of just the horrific ones. They knew him as more than just Poseidon's kid, like his friends at Camp, and didn't seem to give a rats fart about his record no matter how many details were shown.

It sounded like she understood what was going on with Annabeth and me, but I sure as heck didn't.

Thalia face palmed hard as she weighed in her mind putting the boy out of his misery and trying to explain it to him now. Only weighing the pro's and con's in her head of constantly reminding herself it would hurt him more than help him right now stopped her, but it was a close race.

Percy watched her for several minutes with mixed hope and dread for whatever the outcome, and was just as relieved as her when Will kept going in the dubious silence.

"Well, remember," she said, "Grover and Tyson are counting on you two."

"I know," Annabeth and I said at the same time, which embarrassed me even more.

Percy still looked marginally embarrassed in here over that. He expected Thalia to whistle and someone else to make a goofy joke about their minds melding.

They were all just kind of sad though. Annabeth was as intricate a part of his life as his mom, and they wished she was here for him.

My mom smiled. "Percy, you'd better use the phone in the hall. Good luck."

I was relieved to get out of the kitchen, even though I was nervous about what I was about to do. I went to the phone and placed the call. The number had washed off my hand a long time ago, but that was okay. Without meaning to, I'd memorized it.

"I can't get you to remember I don't like olives," Thalia said in exasperation. "Your dyslexic ass is over here memorizing phone numbers a random girl put on your hand!"

"I'd remember your phone number if you'd stop sending me messages via hawk's that leave shit on top of my cabin," Percy scoffed.

"It's more my style, I could never pick a ring tone anyways," Thalia shrugged.

We arranged a meeting in Times Square. We found Rachel Elizabeth Dare in front of the Marriott Marquis, and she was completely painted gold.

"What is it with this girl and these fabulous entrances," Alex said in delight. Magnus was suddenly, selfishly glad Rachel hadn't stuck around as he averted his eyes to the ceiling for a moment.

I mean, her face, her hair, her clothes—everything. She looked like she'd been touched by King Midas. She was standing like a statue with five other kids all painted metallic—copper, bronze, silver. They were frozen in different poses while tourists hustled past or stopped to stare. Some passerby threw money at the tarp on the sidewalk.

"Oooh, now that's pretty cool," Will said in full excitement.

"Why would you want to pretend to be a statue?" Magnus asked with distaste. He wasn't a fan of them himself. They were all over Uncle Randolph's creepy house, usually near the windows he peeked in at, not to mention that stupid bronze statue of Leif Erikson with his metal bra. Nope, he could do without admiring statues, thank you.

The sign at Rachel's feet said, URBAN ART FOR KIDS, DONATIONS APPRECIATED.

Magnus's heart instantly melted though as he realized this was some kind of charity event for kids and Alex began happily shouting about what a cool fundraiser this was and where he could sign up. Darn if he wouldn't have wanted to drop a few sticky, coke drenched pennies he'd found onto that tarp himself just to help some other kid out.

Annabeth and I stood there for like five minutes, staring at Rachel, but if she noticed us she didn't let on. She didn't move or even blink that I could see. Being ADHD and all, I could not have done that. Standing still that long would've driven me crazy.

"I guess you don't have any future as an artist," Alex sighed tragically. "It takes a lot of concentration and hours of sitting in one place. Annabeth can manage it over her blueprints, I'm sure you can if you set your mind to it," he even sounded hopefully encouraging.

"Cooking, maybe, that's as close as I've ever gotten to anything arty," Percy shrugged without much hope for himself, and he really wasn't curious enough to try at it all.

It was weird to see Rachel in gold, too. She looked like a statue of somebody famous, an actress or something. Only her eyes were normal green.

"Someone should have busted out the gold contacts for that girl to go all the way," Jason couldn't hold back anymore and began applauding her dedication. She was going to make a great addition to the quest already!

"They probably agitated her eyes, or I bet she would have," Will smiled, he'd seen how intense she got over her cave at camp.

"Maybe if we push her over," Annabeth suggested.

Nico and Alex couldn't help a surprised laugh while Magnus grimaced uncomfortably. He was still half hoping Rachel would refuse to go on this quest now. Annabeth might push her into a monster if that girl started talking to Percy to long.

I thought that was a little mean, but Rachel didn't respond.

"Dedication," Alex said every syllable with a proud smile for that girl. Magnus swallowed the comment he could ignore people too, because, you know, that wasn't very impressive when he could just walk away. "I wonder if people on the streets try to make them laugh like those British guards with the funny hats?"

Magnus started laughing in surprise at the idea of Alex cracking out every joke to break their stance and felt weirdly better for it, even knowing Alex wouldn't do it if he admired their work that much.

After another few minutes, a kid in silver walked up from the hotel taxi stand, where he'd been taking a break. He took a pose like he was lecturing the crowd, right next to Rachel. Rachel unfroze and stepped off the tarp.

"Hey, Percy." She grinned. "Good timing! Let's get some coffee."

We walked down to a place called the Java Moose on West 43rd.

"Their cups better be big enough to worthy that name," Thalia said weirdly serious. "One should not take the name of a moose in vain with puny coffee cups."

"Note to self, Thalia is weirdly serious about her coffee and meese," Percy chuckled.

"Moose, Percy, the plural of a moose is still moose," Magnus sighed, while Thalia rolled her eyes and scoffed, "please, like you'll remember that in five minutes."

Rachel ordered an Espresso Extreme, the kind of stuff Grover would like.

"Girl got addiction issues," Will sighed in commiseration.

"The first step is admitting it," Nico shrugged.

Will looked vaguely offended, like Nico was threatening to take away his Expresso Extreme. Nico decided he would have to fix that idea right out of Will's mind by making sure there was one next to his bed when he went to sleep tonight.

Annabeth and I got fruit smoothies and we sat at a table right under the stuffed moose.

"Why?" Jason asked with the intense kind of interest they'd learned to associate with him picking up on something personal, and indeed, his hand was already tracing his tattoo.

"Caffeine makes ADHD kids chill, more relaxed, it has the opposite effect on us," Percy shrugged. "We did not want to go back into those tunnels sleepy."

"Huh, thanks," Jason nodded as he smacked his lips together in thought. Did he know that? Why did he have a feeling that related back to him. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if he was ADHD, he got along with Percy and Thalia on that distracted quality a little to well.

Nobody even looked twice at Rachel in her golden outfit.

"Oh please, that went without saying," Thalia rolled her eyes. "New Yorkers walk past people ten times stranger in the last hour. Don't baby us on your city Percy."

"Okay, okay," Percy raised his hands in surrender. He really couldn't wait to give them all a personal tour...but then his brain tried to fry him for a moment as he struggled to remember if he and Thalia had ever been in the city before together for any reason...

"So," she said, "it's Annabell, right?"

"Missing Mr. D slightly less yet?" Will grinned.

"No," Percy said flatly. It had been extremely nice to walk around camp and not worry about what that old jerk was going to say to him to ruin his day the short time he'd been there.

"Annabeth," Annabeth corrected. "Do you always dress in gold?"

"Not usually," Rachel said. "We're raising money for our group. We do volunteer art projects for elementary kids 'cause they're cutting art from the schools, you know? We do this once a month, take in about five hundred dollars on a good weekend. But I'm guessing you don't want to talk about that. You're a half-blood, too?"

"Shhh!" Annabeth said, looking around. "Just announce it to the world, how about?"

"And don't get us started on the conversations you probably over hear," Thalia looked a tad bemused at her panicking over this when Thalia had once summoned a lightning strike on a clear day and the mortals had scattered in fear without looking back. Two weeks later, Luke had been chased by a giant leaf monster he'd finally managed to escape by jumping through oncoming traffic. A car had blown right through the beast, scattering orange, gold, and green leaves everywhere. A semi had come right up next and crushed the trophy of the medallion that had been left in the center.

Not a single car had hit the brakes as Luke made it to the other side.

"Okay." Rachel stood up and said really loud, "Hey, everybody! These two aren't human! They're half Greek god!"

"She says that like being Greek isn't a real person," Will chuckled.

"Well we don't eat briam on a regular basis, so there's some kind of distinction," Nico rolled his eyes. He hoped the Camp did do a few non-American dishes from time to time, he enjoyed his tastes of the world.

Nobody even looked over. Rachel shrugged and sat down. "They don't seem to care."

"That's not funny," Annabeth said. "This isn't a joke, mortal girl."

"Hold it, you two," I said. "Just calm down."

"I'm calm," Rachel insisted. "Every time I'm around you, some monster attacks us. What's to be nervous about?"

"That's, entirely fair actually," Magnus said sheepishly for his own jealousy.

Alex made a pssh noise. "Percy loses his cool all the time and we're plenty calm, she just needs a little bit more practice."

"Oh yeah, we're cool as ice about all this," Nico rolled his eyes while Percy tried not to look to stung over how right they were.

"Look," I said. "I'm really sorry about the band room. I hope they didn't kick you out or anything."

"Nah. They asked me a lot of questions about you. I played dumb."

"Was it hard?" Annabeth asked.

"Dam!" Alex laughed like a punch had forced it out of him. "Did Annabeth fail a personality test while you were gone?"

Percy looked ready to eat his straw before he answered.

"Okay, stop!" I intervened. "Rachel, we've got a problem. And we need your help."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Annabeth. "You need my help?"

Annabeth stirred her straw in her smoothie. "Yeah," she said suddenly. "Maybe."

"And that's as close to a win as you're going to get," Jason said with confidence.

"I took it," Percy promised.

I told Rachel about the Labyrinth, and how we needed to find Daedalus. I told her what had happened the last few times we'd gone in.

"So you want me to guide you," she said. "Through a place I've never been."

"Well when she puts it that way it sounds ridiculous," Percy sighed.

"How did you phrase it?" Thalia snorted.

Percy considered for a moment before repeating, "you can see through the mist and guide us through a path we'd be fooled by."

"Yeah, I guess that does sound better," Thalia conceded.

"Rachel's still right for calling you out and you know it though," Jason smirked.

"Yeah," Percy sighed.

"You can see through the Mist," I said. "Just like Ariadne. I'm betting you can see the right path. The Labyrinth won't be able to fool you as easily."

"As easily?" Magnus sighed. "As in she still might be?"

"I can sometimes see through the mist and I get tricked," Percy shrugged, "I wasn't betting on this all the way."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then we'll get lost. Either way, it'll be dangerous. Very, very dangerous."

"Sell her on this a bit more Percy, I think you almost got her hooked," Nico said like a weirdly good used car salesman. "You haven't even mentioned the monsters and Luke's army running around and the moo mobile you might find again."

"That's part of the premium package, it costs extra," Percy tried to convince himself. It did not work.

"I could die?"

"Yeah."

"It's nice though, that you're not sugarcoating it," Nico said much more seriously this time. Percy nodded in agreement as the two shared a rare smile.

"I thought you said monsters don't care about mortals. That sword of yours—"

"Yeah," I said. "Celestial bronze doesn't hurt mortals. Most monsters would ignore you. But Luke...he doesn't care. He'll use mortals, demigods, monsters, whatever. And he'll kill anyone who gets in his way."

"Nice guy," Rachel said.

"He's under the influence of a Titan," Annabeth said defensively. "He's been deceived."

"Is that what she tells herself every night?" Jason wouldn't have dared say the disparaging comment if she'd been here, but she wasn't, and Thalia flinched at her dismissing his part in this like Luke hadn't thrown himself into this and then bullied, threatened, and manipulated the two of them to join ever since.

Percy shivered at the uncomfortable silence and scent of electricity in the air. He had a feeling Annabeth and Thalia hadn't talked much about Luke...he had an even worse feeling about what might happen if they ever did.

"Cut her some slack, that's her hero," Magnus sighed. It sounded like Luke had been there for more of her life than anyone. Her own dad, Thalia even, maybe only Chiron rivaled.

"And we all know by now you should never meet your heroes, let alone blindly follow them," Nico said not unkindly. He was still dealing with the fallout of confronting his own and it did not feel great. He was once again the most surprised of anyone to find himself relating to Annabeth of all people and swiftly waved Will on from a conversation that wasn't headed anywhere pleasant as Thalia narrowed her eyes at Magnus.

Rachel looked back and forth between us. "Okay," she said. "I'm in."

"Hope this girl never gets a job as a lawyer," Percy laughed to break the awkward silence. "She folded like a house of cards."

"One uses up all their dedication for their passion projects and becomes a lot more carefree in the rest of their life for it," Alex said from experience. If Rachel was anything like her, it seemed they'd get along great.

I blinked. I hadn't figured it would be so easy. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, my summer was going to be boring. This is the best offer I've gotten yet.

"What were the other offers?" Magnus asked in mild concern. "Trip to the zoo? Jet skiing not entertaining enough anymore? Roller coaster on a skyscraper? Is she an adrenaline junkie?"

"Possibly?" Percy looked just as concerned, but a lot more grateful, enough he wasn't going to question this to hard.

 So what do I look for?"

"We have to find an entrance to the Labyrinth," Annabeth said. "There's an entrance at Camp Half-Blood, but you can't go there. It's off-limits to mortals."

She said mortals like it was some sort of terrible condition, but Rachel just nodded.

Percy felt quite a large bit of hurt Annabeth was treating her this way. She'd been as kind and polite to his mother as ever, loving even. Annabeth surely didn't secretly loath his mom, so he knew this was just a problem she was having with Rachel, not all mortals. He just couldn't figure out what that problem really was, and why she was choosing now to act like this when they had such a huge quest ahead.

"Okay. What does an entrance to the Labyrinth look like?"

"It could be anything," Annabeth said. "A section of wall. A boulder. A doorway. A sewer entrance. But it would have the mark of Daedalus on it. A Greek , glowing in blue."

"Like this?" Rachel drew the symbol Delta in water on our table.

"That's it," Annabeth said. "You know Greek?"

"No," Rachel said. She pulled a big blue plastic hairbrush from her pocket and started brushing the gold out of her hair.

Percy vividly remembered the movement of each rough tug she gave to her hair, watching the gold flakes flutter around her in the bright sun, the blue handle of her brush held in a strangle hold as she violently began yanking it through her thick red locks of hair without breaking conversation.

He felt like giving himself a mental slap as she'd pocketed it without getting even half the gold out. He wanted to blame his ADHD for lingering on such a random detail, but couldn't quite convince himself that's what it was.

"Let me get changed. You'd better come with me to the Marriott."

"Why?" Annabeth said.

"Because there's an entrance like that in the hotel basement, where we store our costumes. It's got the mark of Daedalus."

"Of course it does," Magnus sighed. "Is the Marriott haunted?"

"It's not on any watch list I know of," Nico shrugged like that was a casual thing to keep track of.

Jason kept the comment to himself he hoped things would go better down there now they had a guide as Will began chatting happily with Nico about that list and where he'd traveled, to distracted to hand the book over. Jason took it and went back to his seat, but didn't quite make it as the next chapter caught his eye and he froze in horror.

[allisonreader]

The Meeting

Jill's First Friends of Narnia Dinner

"Come on Pole we're going to be late. My cousins won't like it if we are even the tiniest bit late; they can get quite upset to say the least. Minus Lucy that is." Eustace said dragging her to the professor's door.

"Well you needn't pull off my arm I am coming Scrubb." Jill said exasperated.

"They have been very anxious and excited to meet you… especially Lucy."

"It's all so very easy for you, you've known your cousins forever not just as legends told in grand halls and around fires! You only had to meet two living legends where as I have to meet six! Six Scrubb!" Exclaimed Jill as they came up to the door. Eustace then rang the doorbell.

"That's what you think, I-" he was cut off as the door was opened by the professor.

"Ah, Eustace, my boy, come in and you must be Jill. We have heard much about you. Right this way; we're starting in the parlor."

"What were you going to say before the door was opened?" Asked Pole in a shy whisper to Eustace.

"I'm sure it will come up later tonight." Scrubb whispered back to her.

"You two needn't whisper here, especially for us who are a little harder of hearing. Never can quite trust my ears sometimes. I don't think anyone will take offence from what you say and pick up a sword and make you fight for your honour." Said the professor with a laugh as they entered the small parlor.

"Now; time for proper introductions, Eustace." The Professor coaxed.

"Jill, this is Professor Digory Kirke, one of the first people in Narnia."

"It is nice to meet you sir, I am interested in hearing your story from your point of view."

"And this is Polly, the professor's friend who was with him on his journey in Narnia. She likes us to call her Aunt Polly; Aunt Polly, Jill."

"It's nice to meet you Jill."

"Same Aunt Polly." Jill replied shyly.

"And now my cousins in order they are sitting and sat in Cair Paravel with their titles. King Edmund the Just, High King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, and Queen Lucy the Valiant." Each king or queen gave the illusion of a bow without getting up from the sofa they were on with a regal dip of their heads when they heard their title.

"We welcome you Jill as a friend of Narnia." Peter said as regally as if holding court. "Oh, and one more thing, here we never use our titles. Eustace is still trying to get use to the fact we're kings and queens." Said Peter less kingly and joking with the last part.

"It's nice to meet you all." Jill replied shyly.

"Now question time." Said Edmund gleefully in an almost joking way.

"Oh, Ed, don't scare the poor girl." Lucy scolded her older brother.

"Lu, I promise I will be nice. Soo, you go to the same school as Eustace, Correct?"

"Yes."

"Have you or haven't you heard of many legends of Narnia from Narnians?"

"What kind of question is that? I've heard them from owls, marsh-wiggles, dryads, dwarves, and I've even heard parts of them on the back of a centaur." Jill asked in an alarmed voice.

"That's why he asked you the question; if you hadn't been to Narnia you would have been confused." Said Eustace.

"No one here knows anything of marsh-wiggles they are purely Narnian." Susan replied with a sigh that said I don't want to be here, this is stupid.

"Why don't we go and enjoy our delicious Narnian style meal; I'm sure it's done." Said Aunt Polly with a clap.

"What a brilliant idea Polly, then we can start our stories of Narnia." The professor said happily.

"Oh! That time already! I must be off, I promised my friend I would go and watch her play, she has the lead. I couldn't bear to be late. It was nice meeting you Jill, truly, but I can't believe I almost forgot. I'm sure you'll come again. Good-bye everyone." Susan said as she rushed out the door before any one could say anything.

"Well she certainly has got good at avoiding talking about Narnia lately." Lucy said wrinkling her nose.

"Don't worry Lu, I'm sure it's just a fad of hers; it will be over before you know it" Peter told his youngest sister gently.

"So Jill was Eustace as big a pain as normal on your trip." Asked Edmund.

"Hey!" Eustace cried out.

"Well Ed, that was a little uncalled for" Peter replied.

"Come on Pete, aren't you a little curious if he slipped back into his habits?" Ed asked.

"A little, Jill you don't have to answer if you want to, but we would like to hear here point of view" Peter said with a shrug.

"I don't mind answering; I'm afraid that it was me, who kept messing up." She blushed looking at her feet.

"Ah, well, we'll hear your side of the story soon enough." Said Ed.

"How about we eat first?" Polly asked.

"Grand idea, Aunt Polly." Said Peter.

"I say Pete, you think about your stomach as much as Ed!" Exclaimed Lucy.

Both kings then yelled at the same time "Hey". As the others giggled at the outburst, soon Peter and Edmund joined in with the laughing.

Polly had made Narnian styles of fish and potatoes as well as many types of vegetables prepared with Narnian styled poultry. The center piece on the table was a low basket over flowing with bright, shiny, red apples as both a tribute and a joke.

"Aunt Polly, Why apples?" Edmund asked sounding quite horrified as they entered the dining room.

"Apples have been very important to Narnia, I would think you would know that Edmund" Polly answered airily almost sounding offended in a joking way as everyone sat at their designated spot.

"Oh yes Ed, how could you ever forget." Giggled Lucy.

"What's wrong with apples?" Asked Jill confused.

"Let the stories begin." Muttered Eustace under his breath, bracing himself for what was to come.

"My, I am surprized that none of the stories mentioned apples" Replied Digory.

"Nothing is wrong with apples per say, it's just, some of us are still sick of them from our second journey to Narnia." So Peter started the story after they prayed for their meal in both the Lord's name and Aslan's. Peter only being interrupted when Lucy or Edmund had something to add. Peter ended up telling only part of the story where Lucy did not have anything to say. "That is the reason we still don't eat apples, even Susan won't touch them." Peter finished.

"Is that the only reason apples are important?" asked Jill.

"Goodness no" said Aunt Polly and Professor Kirke at the same time that the rest sent a resounding cry of "NO" up.

"Ah, our story now Polly, shall I tell it?" asked the professor.

"Of course Digory I'll add where I need to."

"From the beginning then." Started Digory. He told the story animatedly giving impressions where needed. "When the tree blew down, I couldn't stand to let it be chopped into fire wood. So I had it fashioned into a lovely wardrobe through which Lucy found her way to Narnia for the first time." The professor finished.

"When we came back, we figured out that he had been to Narnia before, and that he had to be the boy who first came into Narnia." Said Peter.

"Lu, figured it out first." Edmund put in.

"Then poor Eustace he didn't know what he got himself into. When we got back from the voyage with Eustace, his first meeting of the friends; Peter and Susan had put on their noble airs and were looking quite regal to greet him. He looked very alarmed, and knew that they weren't just his older cousins he always knew, they were noble, they are royalty." Said Lucy.

"No Lu, you could tell he looked terrified like Su or I would bite his head off." Peter elaborated with a chuckle at the memory.

"You would be scared too if you learned your cousins, you spied on, were a royalty and great warriors whom have been in a good many battles. Not to mention that while they might not bite my head off could still very easily remove it." Eustace defended himself. "See Pole, you hadn't anything to fear. I had to worry about ridicule and being knocked down, much easier for you."

"Now tell us your side of the story. We've heard Eustace's but he's still learning the art of storytelling." Lucy said.

"Alright, it all started behind our school. That's where Scrubb found me blubbering" Jill started nervously. Both Polly and Digory shared a look of similar remembrance. Before Jill knew it she was finishing her story. "With that Aslan fixed the wall and was gone." Jill finished with a sigh of relief.

"That was well done Jill, well done indeed." Said Professor Kirke.

"I still haven't really seen Narnia itself yet, I've practically always have been out of country" Eustace complained.

"Polly and I were sent out of Narnia on tasks both times." Digory said thoughtfully.

"Professor you often mention that you and Aunt Polly have been to Narnia twice; but I don't think we've ever heard about it" said Peter.

"It's a long tale which will have to wait until next time" Digory replied.

A course of sighs and whys went around the younger people.

"Because it is getting late and as much as we may wish we are in Narnia we unfortunately are not. Here in England most of you are still school aged children, to the adults of this world." Polly said as the Penvensies, Eustace and Jill got up. They were lead to the door said their good-byes and started to leave.

"So Pole that wasn't too bad was it?" asked Eustace.

"No Scrubb it wasn't." She answered in a thoughtful, dreamy, almost tired way.

"Did you enjoy your time?"

"Yes, especially when they told your story of you being a dragon" she teased.

"Will you come with me again?"

"Of course, I want to hear Aunt Polly and the Professor's story."

A. Note; At the end of The Lion, The witch, and the wardrobe I find that the Professor seems confident that they'll go back. Direct quote:"... Yes, of course you'll get back to Narnia again someday. ...don't try to get there at all. It'll happen when you're not looking for it." Doesn't it sound like he has gone back? It would then make sense if Polly were to go back with him.

[geyikligece]

uh hello,i know you aren't a scholar or anything but i just wanted to ask for your opinion or ask if you have read anything on this matter. so the Quran doesn't say anything about same-sex marriages(and it not saying anything it is banned) but i also saw something like "marry the unmarried amongst you, female or male slaves" and i saw someone, an imam, saying this makes same-sex marriages possible. and in a surah(30:21) it talks about love in a gender neutral manner. i don't get how people connect zina and homosexuality. yes it would be zina if the same-sex couple wasn't married and had sex, but if they got married by an imam and had sex wouldnt that be legal. or i want to know why can't they get married? sex is seen as such a positive part of life. so why is it that just because of the way we were created we cannot have sex, isn't that unfair? i also learned that all the "hadiths" that talk about homosexuality being punished is actually weak and unreliable. so i don't get it, can we be in a relationship without ever having sex, or can we get married and then have sex? because if it is permissible after marriage, then i am willing to wait for it. if it isn't, i don't want to imagine my life so blank and deprived because of it. the homophobic Muslims certainly wouldn't have missed out if the Prophet had ever punished anyone for homosexuality, yet he didn't and how very interestingly they were condemned AFTER HIS DEATH. he reads the book and misunderstands and the scholars read it and understand better than him? ironic. honestly i am so shocked about how the homophobia is so deep withing the community. they make the religion so scary and unapproachable for anyone who is not cishet. also saying "don't act on it" is incredibly stupid. why was i created in pairs too, then? if it was actually a sin, why wasn't it mentioned properly instead of people trying to make conclusions and analogies that either arent clear or aren't mentioned? i used to thing literally almost everything is haram but know i know that it's just people making things up. it seems hard for a Muslim to go hell, too. unless they are very corrupted. as far as i know, what is haram is either haram because it harms other people, or it harms the person doing it. how can being in a relationship harm anyone? straight couples getting married before sex is logical as if there is any children they will be supported and cared for. but it is illogical to say "there is nothing about it in the Quran so it's not permissible" it's the very opposite! i used to feel so bad for my identity but now i am coming to terms with it. i am also disappointed by how many scholars and imams are homophobic themselves no matter how "knowledgeable" they are. i never listen to them as i think religion should be something i myself should be deciding. i have always understood the story of Lut as rape. they had wives and they were raping men, it wasn't consensual. also the Quran on the importance as being a good partner outweighs my suspicions. anyway i am sorry for taking so much, but i am full or rage towards the community. it doesn't judge or condemn us anywhere. even in the Lut, is is HETERO MEN THAT HAD WIVES RAPING MEN. please share your thoughts with me. i hope you have a great day, may Allah bless you.

hi! i just saw this so i'm replying a bit late. as you said, i'm not a scholar, but i'm a psychologist and researcher who studies queer muslim identity and identity integration. so i think i can share what i see, read and observe.

first of all, there is a sociological area, islamic feminism, which i think is very related to these issues as well. scholars are women and they argue that the interpretations on religious issues are always made by men with their patriarchal, heteronormative, hegemonic minds. they say the language of the quran is never discriminatory, sexist etc. so they criticize the islamic scholars and they suggest a new interpretation, they read the quran and hadith critically, with a new perspective. when we look at the muslim societies today, we can clearly see that none of those societies really perform islam. sometimes people cannot differentiate culture and religion. they don't know which one is from the culture, which one is from the deen. it is not surprising but we must be critical of this.

another thing is, some scholars say that if something is not clearly stated in quran or hadith, then people shouldn't ask too many questions about it, some say "if they are not stated, they're forgiven by Allah". i also read in kecia ali's book sexual ethics and islam that there is a "don't ask, don't tell" norm when it comes to sexual minorities in muslim societies. they acknowledge it, but they don't wanna talk about it.

recently i'm doing in-depth interviews with muslim queer women. one woman said "when i look back to my past, i do not feel any regret or shame about my sexuality, but i feel remorse because of abortion. when i make love with a woman, we don't hurt anyone or anything. do we kill someone? no. but abortion, i still do not forgive myself".

i think what she said is really important. going through an abortion makes her feel remorse, pain, and fear of Allah. she is worried and prays to Allah to forgive her. but she is okay with her sexuality, because as she said, they don't hurt anyone. my opinion is not very different from her. in the quran, there are clearly stated harams: killing, stealing, zina, infidelity and so on. yet, some so-called "religious" people make queerness a huge issue while we have all kinds of corruptions and harams in our societies. is it logical? i don't think so.

about prophet Lut, i think we have similar views. i've read those verses from quran numerous times. the issue is more about rape, consent, corruptions in the society in my opinion. i cannot believe people read those verses and the only thing they say is "see, it is because they were homosexuals". bro, what's the logic? why aren't they that sensitive when it comes to consent, rape, murder?

i think i kinda made my perspective clear. Islam is all about justice and peace. Allah is merciful and fair. so apparently me kissing a woman is more problematic than killing a woman for so-called religious men, but it's indeed very related to mansplaining, patriarchy and heteronormativity. that's why i suggest you to read more about islamic feminism. and lastly, all the muslim queer women in my asks box, why don't you message me, i thought we could be friends :(

edit: i realized i didn't talk about your question on marriage. i don't have knowledge about it though. personally, i think i'm not someone who values marriage and/or sex that much so it's maybe better to not talk much. but i know queer muslim women who think it is okay to have sex regardless of gender if there is mutual consent. i also know someone who thinks it is okay if you have sex only with one person which is your partner. since same sex marriage is still not legal in many countries, it is a tough topic. but there are proud married queer muslim couples in countries where same sex marriage is legal, maybe we should ask them

[realisationanddoubt]

Unleashing repression

I've been putting this off for a little while but apparently I'm mentally healthy enough that I can't repress things as well as I used to. A palpable irony to that. It means that current circumstances have actually affected me far more than I would expect.

It's always exacerbated by relationship issues. That's always the way isn't it. It was supposed to be casual. That's always the way too, huh? We agreed. I checked in so many times and you always agreed it should be casual. You were lying though. I suppose I knew it too. Things were always a little tense. You'd fly off the handle when I spoke to basically anyone but you. You were possessive over me before you ever had a right to be. Yet I pursued. Because I was lonely. Because I enjoyed the physical affection.

It was stupid of me. Of both of us. Everyone I've spoken to about it says it's not my fault. I was clear. I constantly communicated. Yet I saw the red flags and ignored them. You certainly think it's my fault. That I used you. When you seemed ready to actually date I asked you if you wanted to date me and you shot me down.

I don't know where I stand here. It reminds me of my relationship with Nichola in a way but I don't know if I'm over adjusting. You've said some things that have really hurt me. If I choose to discard that as just mean things am I being overly sensitive? Am I being self-centred, only thinking about myself?

It's so easy for me to believe I'm at fault. Therapy hasn't been able to fully take that away. I'm better than I was though. Better at rationalising, at examining. So let's examine.

I'm struggling to think it through properly. It's as if I've put up an emergency wall. Fenced it all in to avoid it. I suppose the first step is to figure out why. I know why the fence is there of course. It's because my self-esteem is too fragile. If I pick at this scab and find that I'm in the wrong it feels like it will confirm everything my past traumas said to me.

I'm not wrong though, am I. Keep going, don't let this train of thought escape you. I make stupid decisions sometimes, everyone does. You're insecurities weren't mine to control though. I saw what I thought to be red flags but it would be arrogant of me to assume it was my duty to control your feelings. I'm not responsible for how you feel just as you aren't for me. No one can control another person to that extent. I know this. I've tried. Far too many times with far too many people. Tried to keep them happy at all cost. Tried to make myself so small, so convenient in a bid to make others lives easier. I didn't this time. To begin with at least. I definitely did towards the end. I faltered. It happens.

It wasn't casual because I only wanted sex. It was casual because you were already with someone. Unhappily of course. Someone you'd told many times you didn't love, told him you were only together for the kids. I couldn't invest in that though. Not again. I couldn't tie myself to someone who would possibly never leave their life for me. I've played that game a million times. After you did leave him I did try to pursue you but then it was too late. Honestly, us being together in any form would have undoubtably been devastating to my mental health. I was more than willing to let you break me down all over again

You did I suppose. I didn't want to get angry or upset with you. I couldn't. Every time we saw one another it was an insight into what I did wrong. That's how it always is I suppose. Never a flurry, just a constant trickle that erodes.

It's almost like the old me vs the new me. The habits of giving in, relenting, trying to change for someone every time they bring up issues is ingrained deeply in me. But I am someone else now too. There's that part of me that can stand up. Tell myself I deserve better than that.

It sets about a sort of crisis. Trying to not people-please. Trying to live up to expectations. The reality is though, you wanted me to be someone I'm not. You wanted me to not display any traits of mental health issues. Not allowed to be depressed because it made you not feel wanted. Not allowed to forget or be impulsive ala ADHD because it made you feel like you didn't know where I stood.

I think that's the crux of it. We could never understand one another. To you anything I did was with malice. You said I only supported you to fuck you despite the fact we were friends for almost 5 years prior to anything happening. Despite the fact it was just a drunken night that we agreed to keep on a casual basis.

I am not broken, cruel, malicious as you often imply. I'm just different. I just think differently. Any time I meet someone with those neurodiverse traits they understand instantly. Hell, even most people who are neurotypical seem to understand my intentions.

I've discussed this with friends but never with myself. I defaulted back to my old crutches. External validation. It's taken me a long time to get any kind of internal validation and it's ok that I struggled to apply validation to myself. This is the first scenario post therapy that has challenged these issues.

I went through this with my mother. With Nichola. Now with you. This insistent that I am wholly responsible for their mood. That it is me that needs to fix it. That I need to tend to all your needs and emotions, I need to make you feel secure, I need to be the one to do it all.

I don't though. Not anymore. It took some time to get here but less than the last two times. I'm getting better. There is nothing to even forgive myself for. I would be mortified at the idea of trying to make someone solely responsible for my emotions and self-worth now. I've been there too.

I continue to improve on myself. I don't yet have that confidence to know when I'm in the right. Or perhaps it would be arrogance to be that sure of myself. I don't even know. But I'm doing better than yesterday. That is all that I can ask of myself.

I tried really hard to consider every point you brought up. Nothing I did was good enough. You always acted as if I wasn't good enough. Talking to you makes me feel like a shitty person. I'm not though. I'm just not. That shouldn't be so hard for me to type.

I persist. Despite mental health issues, despite relationship issues, despite everything I will continue to persist. I matter. I matter to me. I'm worth more than this.

[donnabroadway]

Soul Sisters

We open to a dimly lit non descript room in a non descript building in Washington, DC. There is a young woman, in her mid-late 30s and another woman of the same age. The first woman is blonde and wearing an oversized sweater, leggings, and over worn black ugg boots. The second woman, with dyed reddish brown hair is more polished and wearing a black suit with a white shirt, short manicured nails and red lipstick. They have been having a back and forth for 15 minutes.

"Take the money,"

Take the money?

Always, take the money. If anyone

I’m not for sale.

The second woman laughs.

You think that makes you special. The fact you're sitting here in over $50,000 worth of credit card debt, $75,000 in student loans, you're nearly 40 and you don't have a pot to piss in or a winder to throw it out of and you've been going on any Youtube or TikTok blogger you can find to try to embarrass this family and somehow you're the moral authority over anything. You can not be for sale but no one cares that you've stood your ground when you're homeless and no one cares. (she pulls out her phone) They're already starting to turn on you in the comments and ask questions. It's only a matter of time. Take the money. Start a new life, pay for your wedding, put a down payment on a house, start a charity. I don't care. Take the money. My offer expires in 24 hours.

No.

No?

No.

You're making a big mistake. (she starts to gather her papers and puts a pen in her purse using her well manicured finger)

You're the worst kind of woman.

Excuse me. I am trying to help you here. Sign the NDA and take the money but you want to give me lectures.

You are supposed to help me. Believe all women but they send you, a woman and not only that, a woman of color to give me hush money and silence me.

(She sits back down)

Would you prefer I was white?

I prefer you use your power for good and not to hurt women and silence them.

Three times.

What?

Three times. I was 12, 15, and 17. Three times. The amount of times my stepfather took me to the clinic to "take care of things" before I started to show because he didn't want my mother to find out because he never had a job and my mother, a brilliant, yet stupid woman, was supporting a grown man and three kids on a nurses salary while he blamed "the man" for never having a job, yet he could stay home and find the time to rape his stepdaughter. Three times I sat alone in the clinic getting his seed scrapped out of me and every single time some nurse lectured me on being smarter and how no man would want me if I kept getting pregnant and three times I went home and said nothing. And you know what my reward for getting raped consistently from the time I was 11 until that last time when I just didn't go home after he "forgot" to pick me up from the clinic because he forgot he had to get my mother from work because they could only afford one car because he wouldn't get a job. (silence) I certainly wasn't offered $2.5 million to be quiet. I got scar tissue and an incompetent cervix. You wanna know the irony. Three miscarriages all after 21 weeks. The sickness goes away, I can eat what I want, I finally start to get fat, start to show, and then the blood comes and I go into labor and I go home every single time without a baby. And you know what the doctor tells me? Go home and try again? Why? To have a fourth miscarriage. So, I'm here because surrogates are expensive and rich people pay a lot for cleaners and honestly, I don't care enough about overgrown frat boys, scorned mistresses, forgotten children, or disgraced councilmen trying to go to the press and I certainly don't care about your social justice warrior stance. We're not soul sisters. You're almost as stupid as my mother, who, by the way posts three times a year on Facebook on Mother's Day, Christmas, and my birthday about how you make so many sacrifices for your kids and they have the nerve to be weak and ungrateful and how her reward is in heaven because God knows her heart. And she's still with the same man, the one who has never had a job in the 25 years they've been married, liking her posts and giving her encouragement. You think you know me but you don't. Take the money, don't take the money. I don't care. Just know that once I walk out of here, I will still get paid and you will have nothing except your ill placed pride because Brinston's have an entire file on you dating from 2005 and are prepared to destroy your life in ways you could never imagine.

Okay.

Okay. what?

I'll sign it.

(she pushes a paper in front of her with a pen and the woman takes the pen and signs it in blue ink) the NDA (she points to a second line and the woman across the table signs it in black ink)

Is that it?

She gives her $50,000 in $100 bills and two plane tickets to Paris.

What’s this?

A down payment. Get out of here. Lay low for a few days. The rest of your money will be in your account in the morning. If you even as much answer an email from anyone except me or a representative from the Brinston's, the contents of this file will be released and every part of this contract, except the NDA will be voided and you will have 24 hours to return all the money or we will sue you. (She puts the paper in her folder) Have a nice day, Ms. Sullivan.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Best friend loki be gate keeping reader until he couldn't do it anymore...so he gotta do everything hard wayyy🥵

Stay the Night

Warnings: unwanted touching, noncon. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Oops, I added a side of roommate! Steve. Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

“Why don’t you take the couch? I’m certain Steve wouldn’t mind?” you ask as Loki stands behind the closet door, “you can’t sleep on the floor.”

You kick the door shut and face Loki. It’s almost funny how he has the borrowed sweats rolled at his waist. Even then the droop dangerously, and Steve’s tee is loose as it billows from his shoulders.

“I couldn’t ask him for any more. He is overly helpful,” he insists, “I don’t mind the floor,” he pauses and hiccups behind his hand, “I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine.”

“Ah, no biggie, it’ll be like my birthday,” you turn and lead him down the hall, “remember? I feel asleep watching that movie. I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up.”

“Is that what happened?” Steve emerges from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pajama pants and nothing else.

“I told you about it,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Apologies, I didn’t think to invite you,” Loki interjects as you go into your room and he leans on the door frame.

“Oh, she did. But I was busy,” Steve answers. “I took her to dinner the next night instead, had to make it up.”

“You? As if.” You scoff as you lay out the feathery duvet and place the pillow atop it, a makeshift bed you don’t think will be big enough for Loki’s lanky height, “I owe you for the leeway on rent.”

“One week, come on,” he says as he peeks in beside Loki, the two of them watching you make-up the floor, “you sure we can't pay for a cab, buddy?”

“Save your money, I can bear a few aches,” Loki affirms.

You finish up and stand as it goes silent. You look up at them as they stare each other down. They are two very different types, you’ve noticed the tension before. You sigh into a yawn.

“Well, I am pooped,” you announce, “so, bedtime?”

“Oh, certainly,” Loki enters, “as you say, pooped.”

“You have a good night you two,” Steve says, “don’t be staying up till morning telling scary stories.”

“You’re stupid,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Nighty night,” he winks and flips the light off before shutting the door.

You blink through the darkness as your vision slowly adjusts. You exclaim as Loki scares you, walking into you in the shadows. You giggle as he apologises and steps back.

“No problem,” you say and go to the bed, cautiously climbing onto the mattress.

You tuck yourself under the blankets and you squint as you watch his hazy form lower onto the floor. He exhales as he lays on his back. You close your eyes, slightly wired from the unexpected company.

“So… when are you getting a place of your own?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve been here a while and you’re doing better… I only thought it was inevitable.”

“Oh, I guess. I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to think of it, I guess,” you keep your eyes shut. “Well, just another thing to figure out.”

“Ah,” he clucks, “well, my place is much bigger so even if you’re just looking for more space…”

“Oh, Loki, I couldn’t,” you wiggle and turn over, “but I appreciate the offer,” you yawn again, “besides, it’s too late to worry about all that.”

💚

You feel the bed shift, not quite awake or asleep. Stuck in the middling purgatory of subconscious restlessness. You hear yourself snort and grumble but don’t reach the surface of wakefulness.

A warmth snakes around you, a soft squeeze on your chest, more fervent as you cling to your pillow. A plucking as a twinge nestles at the base of your spine. A tickle along your stomach and the cool air of the room wafting beneath the warm layers.

A firm brush along your waist, the squeeze of elastic sliding down your legs. A groan as you’re turned onto your back, one leg parted from the other. The heat of a soft palm against you, long fingers delving like tendrils between your folds. Twirling and twisting your nerves into a knot as your breath hitches.

Your eyes open in shock at the realisation. It isn’t a dream. You grumble and look over. The blankets on the floor are messy but the figure is gone. You turn back and watch Loki as he hushes you, his hand buried between your thighs as you push them together.

“We’re best friends, aren’t we?” he coos, “and best friends would do anything for each other.”

[meetmyothersouls]

Hello loveee 💞👻 can I request an original halloween prompt “excuse me, I think I’m lost, can you help me?”

If you’re not inspired by it, don’t worry if you don’t want to write it!

Hi! I definitely can! Hope you like what I did with it!

The Prophecy

Warnings: death, not proof read

Luring men in was your job. You hated it, but it's what had to be done. You spent many, many nights wandering around New York City approaching men that looked scummy. If they were scummy, you felt better about it. They usually thought you were a prostitute, so most of them were very willing. They never knew what was coming and you never felt any remorse until you met a man by the name of Timothee.

"Excuse me, sir. I think I'm lost. Can you help me?"

The man you approached turned around and you actually stumbled backward at the sight of him. He was unlike the others. He looked, well, he looked like he had a soul.

He pulled a cigarette from between his lips. "Where you trying to go?"

You almost didn't want to answer. "Home."

"I can help you out. Where do you live?"

This felt wrong, and as much as you hated your job, it never felt wrong.

"N-nevermind," you said, taking the opportunity to flee before it was too late.

He grabbed your hand, stopping your escape.

"I'm confused. Do you need help?" He seemed concerned.

"No, sorry. I made a mistake. You're not the right person."

You walked off, hoping he'd drop it, but he didn't. He followed you. You could hear his footsteps trailing behind you. You could hear his heavy breathing, his pounding heart, and his will to live.

"Well, what do you mean?" He said, jogging to catch up to you.

"I thought I was lost, but things are looking a bit more familiar now. I'm good. Thanks."

"You said, 'you're not the right person'. What did you mean by that?"

"Listen," you said, turning harshly to face him. "I'm giving you your chance to escape. Your. Time. Is. Running. Out." You clapped between each word of the last sentence, emphasizing its importance.

He arched an eyebrow, giving you a half smile that made your heart sink a little bit.

This man was going to die.

"I'm Timothee. What's your name?" He couldn't see the ground opening up underneath the two of you.

The reaper was waiting and you usually delievered by now.

"Damn it," you said, grabbing his hand, pulling him away from the cracks that formed directly under where he was standing. "I don't have a name."

"You're strange," Timothee laughed. "What's going on? Why are you so confusing."

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," you said, keeping your eyes on ground, avoiding any cracks you saw opening up.

"Well then," Timothee said, skipping to get in front of you. He turned to face you and began walking backwards. "Make me believe you."

"I'm the grim reapers assistant."

He stopped. You watched him look at you as you walked around him, marching on into the darkness.

"Okay, you're obviously fucking with me. Ha. Ha."

"Hang around me long enough and you'll see that I am most certainly not 'fucking with you.'"

"So, if I continue to walk with you...what I'll die?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

You expected him to stop, to turn around and walk the other way. Shit, run the other way. But he didn't.

"You're pretty stupid aren't you?" You asked Timothee. "Normally, the men I encounter are begging me to let them go, but still, I deliver them to the reaper. But here you are, presented with a golden opportunity to get the fuck out and you're still following me."

Timothee thought for a minute, "I mean, I've just got so many questions. Like, are you dead?"

"No. I mean yeah. Kinda?"

"Huh. And so what do you...like I mean I always thought the grim reaper appears as you're dying to walk you to the afterlife."

"Yeah, she makes those visits in the flesh."

"She?"

"Yeah. She."

"This is so weird. Okay, so then what do you do? You said you bring people to her?"

"Yeah, I seek out bad people that need to die...or should die, and deliver them to her."

"So, you thought I was a bad person and needed to die?" He didn't sound offended, but you felt bad.

"Yeah...look, I only saw you from behind and I just assumed-"

Timothee cut you off with a fit of laughter. "You are so full of shit, oh my god! You really expect me to believe that?"

You didn't feel bad anymore.

"You're really pushing your luck, you asshole."

"If this was all true," he said, still laughing. "Then why didn't you just grab my hand and take me to wherever this is right away?"

"I'm starting to ask myself why I didn't as well."

Timothee wiped the tears from his laugher from his eyes and held out his hand. "Take me." "What?"

"Take me there. If this is all true, I want you to take me there."

"You do realize this means you'll die."

"If it's my time, it's my time."

This was strange. The men you usually brought to Her were horrid. Timothee didn't appear to be that way, even though he had gotten on your nerves. But being annoying didn't mean you deserved to die. They were also usually oblivious about how shitty they actually were; they'd kick and scream as the ground opened up beneath you and took you both to the underworld, where She kept these particular souls. Timothee didn't belong there.

You grabbed his hand, but this time the ground didn't open up. Instead, the world in front of you parted, like a curtain, opening up into darkness. Timothee's eyes were wide and as you stepped forward, he hesitated. He was scared, and he had every right to be. He finally stepped forward, and you walked into nothing together, the curtain to his world closing behind the two of you.

"Is it always this dark?" He asked.

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you said you do this all the time?" "I do, but this...this is new."

The two of you walked through darkness for what seemed like hours. Occasionally, you could hear the dripping of water, or faint voices. For the first time in centuries, you felt uncertainty and it wasn't a feeling you missed.

You grunted as a hard surface stopped your walking.

"It's a door," you said as you felt your way down to the handle.

"To what?"

"Not sure."

You pushed the handle down, allowing the door to swing open. It was brighter in this room. Timothee squinted his eyes as they adjusted. In the far corner, She sat in her throne, Death herself.

You fell to your knees, bowing where you stood. You tugged at Timothee's pant leg and motioned him to join you.

"I'm not really sure what's going on, but it's probably best you kiss her ass. She might send you back to the Upperworld."

"Rise," Her majestic voice echoed through the room.

You stood; Timothee quickly joined you.

"You've brought me someone who doesn't belong here, y/n."

Timothee looked at you. You looked down at your feet remembering that you told him you didn't have a name.

"I am sorry. This mistake is unforgiveable."

"I asked to come here," Timothee interjected.

You looked up, snapping your head toward him. What was he doing?

"Is that so?"

Timothee nodded. Death looked at him for a moment before standing. You released a shaky breath as She made her way down the steps in front of her throne. Her dark robes trailed behind her elegantly, while a large hood covered her head and face. She tapped her scythe against each step as she walked. When she approached, she circled the two of you once before stopping in front of Timothee, pulling down her hood so he could look Death in the face.

Her golden-brown skin glowed beautifully even in the dimly lit room, and She revealed a dazzling smile that brought out the bronze glow of her cheeks.

"Then it seems that the prophecy has been fulfilled."

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