#and im more than fine with living a life not planned out to a T but

[clarabowmp3]

I can’t keep living like this

[phykios]

If I Were A Blackbird, part 16 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Did you make it back okay? You didn’t text 🙁

[read, 10:47am]

????

Sorry got back kind of late Got lost in exarchia lol

Isn’t exarchia dangerous? Are you ok? 

Nah it was np Ive seen worse at santa con

Ok

Everything good with you?

?

Whatever hans needed you for last night

Oh yeah it was fine Turned out to be a nothingburger Im sorry i ruined our date

Its fine

…

…

Hey i just checked with my car service and they said you didn’t call them last night? 

Yeah i just caught a taxi Only out a few euro

…

…

When are you free next week? I wanna make it up to you 

Its rly fine

Ok well i want to see you Before coach peterson traps you in the boathouse and wont let you leave

Lol What are you doing thursday? 

Breakfast with the finns then 10 hours of teams meetings Does saturday work?

Practice

🙁 

What abt sunday morning? We’d have to be done by 2

I can do sunday!! How do you feel about dawn? 

—

A risky proposition–for her, not for him. Percy had no trouble waking up early, while Annabeth more than lived up to her night owl reputation. 

But she had to make it up to him. She had to give him something spectacular. 

Percy had clearly been so hurt the other night when she’d made him leave. And he had every right to be. She wanted him to be her partner, in all things. Even though that didn’t mean he could join her in fighting a dracena or a draugr or some other dangerous creature, it did mean he should be able to know about what was going on. Know about every aspect of her life. And even though the other night had not ended up being such a big issue, there had been dozens of monster fights over the last four years where all she wanted when it was over was to curl up with Percy and tell him what was really going on. Seek his comfort and support. 

Percy Jackson was a world class cuddler. They should give him a gold medal for that. 

She had known for a long time she needed to come clean. She needed to tell him everything. But this moment was really the line. It was creating divisions she didn’t like, that he didn’t deserve. And she wanted to share everything with him. Seek his advice and comfort and love as she navigated the challenges of being a demigod. 

So, she had to stop pushing him away. It wasn’t fair. Percy had supported her 100% in all things since they first got together–the hecticness of royal life, her own demigod and ADHD flightiness, even her Harvard family pride. 

He deserved better. 

It steeled her resolve.

She had planned the event to a T, stocked up on Greek coffee, and called in an enormous favor with the Ministry of Culture to organize a private tour of the Parthenon for the two of them, just after dawn. The sacred hill, usually overrun with tourists, would be, for once, deserted, and they would have the place wholly to themselves. They’d get to walk the ruins together, alone, get to look out at the sun rising over the sea he sailed on, and then she would take his hand, and she would finally tell him everything. Let him into the most secret parts of her life. 

The only hard bit had been figuring out what to wear. She wasn’t sure if she’d brought anything for this trip that wasn’t blue. She’d packed one bag, and Helen had packed the big one for her, but she’d acquired so much blue over the last four years that most of her closet had ended up blue, too. But she wasn’t about to go on possibly the most important date of her life without having an outfit ready to go by morning. 

Blue was the obvious choice, but was also possibly jinxed–she couldn’t remember the last time she had worn blue on a date with Percy without being attacked by a monster. White, again, had a ton of bridal baggage, and she didn’t want to pressure him into doing anything, not when she was about to drop a mythological bomb on him.

So. What to wear. 

She had spent probably upwards of an hour, wrapped in her bathrobe and conditioning her hair, as she sat cross legged on the bed, agonizing over the final three options: an orange romper with a gold belt and stilettos, the two-piece lemon-printed outfit from a D&G collection a few years back with flats, or the purple sundress with raw edges and a pair of white sneakers. 

When she laid it all out, it was kind of obvious. Her mother’s temple, where millions of tourists walked each year, was not really known for its crisp, even walkways. Or its non-slippery marble.

The dress, she decided. Not just for the shoes, but for the color, a surprisingly intense hue for such a casual fabric. Deep and dark, like wine spilled over the ocean. Very Homeric. Hopefully he’d like it.

She bounced her sneakers against the interior car door, probably scuffing the leather and pissing Hans off to no end, as she waited for Percy to come out of the Village. That was the problem with white. Easy to ruin. She chanced another look out the window, and sat up at the hooded figure who came out, and made a beeline straight for the car. Without hesitation, he slid in beside her, taking down his jacket hood, revealing wet hair and tired eyes that still lit up at the sight of her. “Morning,” he said, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. “Morning, Hans.” 

“Sir.” 

“Hey,” she said. “You sleep okay?” 

“Slept alright, yeah.” 

Annabeth frowned. “You look tired.” 

“Yeah, well,” Percy shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind.” He continued before Annabeth could say anything. “I was hoping practice would tire me out, but… Probably going to need a nap after this.” 

“My hotel bed misses you,” she told him, and then only cringed a little bit as the full dorkiness of the words came to her. “You could always come back with me. You know. If you wanted.” 

He paused, then twisted his mouth in that way she knew meant he was trying not to laugh. “Maybe. But I don’t know if I’ll make it through this car ride.” 

Well, she could help with that. “Way ahead of you there,” she said, reaching for the drink caddies. “Coffee?” 

Successfully caffeinated, they enjoyed an easy, peaceful drive to the west entrance of the site. At this hour, the roads were largely clear, devoid of most traffic beyond a handful of delivery guys on bikes, or the odd clump of construction workers taking advantage of the time. It was still dark enough that the street lights were still on, the car passing beneath beautiful arches of string lights in the colors of the Olympic Rings as they rounded the corner of the National Gardens. In the distance, just barely over the tips of the buildings, she could see glimpses of the Acropolis, its columns lit up with yellow floodlights, like artificial fire. 

Percy huffed a laugh as they passed the Arch of Hadrian and the Temple of Olympian Zeus, resting his head against the window. 

“What is it?” 

He shot her a sideways glance. “It’s nothing. Just, ah… it’s nothing.” 

She frowned at the deflection. But instead of dwelling on it too much, she took his hand. “I’m really glad you came this morning,” she said, quietly. 

Smiling, he squeezed her hand in return. “Hey, me, too. I’m always happy to see you.” 

“And I’m sorry about the other night.” 

“Seriously, you don’t–” 

“I do,” she interrupted, lacing their fingers together. “You’ve put up with so much crap from me and my family and my country these last four years, and I haven’t…” She trailed off, the words drying up in her mouth. 

Percy shifted, turning towards her. “Haven’t what?” 

Been honest? Told him everything? Gods, what did she even say to that? Every other person she had ever been close to had already known the great secret. Annabeth couldn’t even remember if she had ever been told explicitly the truth of her birth and her heritage. It was just something she’d always known. Something she’d never had to question. Annabeth was a princess, her mother was a goddess, and her family was descended from another pantheon. These were the facts of her life. How was she supposed to tell him the truth? 

How do you turn someone’s life upside down like this without driving them away?

For lack of anything to say, she squeezed his hand again, and brought it to her mouth. “I have something I need to tell you,” she mumbled into his fingers. 

He only nodded, face solemn in a way it rarely was. “Me, too.” 

She sat up, a new wave of anxiety breaking over her. “What is it?” 

Taking in a deep breath, he moved his hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone. She leaned into it, drank in the gentleness of his fingers, the quiet, deliberate touch of skin, and her heart couldn’t help but throb. “Annabeth,” he said, gathering his courage. “I… There’s…” 

“Excuse me.” 

They both jumped. Hans had rolled the car into park so smoothly, she hadn’t even noticed. 

“Apologies, highness,” he said, not at all meaning it, “but we’ve arrived.” 

And not a moment too soon. The sky above was just beginning to lighten, the shades of midnight just barely beginning to give way to gray and purple. 

Hand in hand, they strode up the wide, cobbled pathway, their steps illuminated by the floodlights. If she ignored the hum of electricity, the distant sound of car horns, or the lack of stars above them, she could almost imagine that she and Percy were in ancient Athens, making a pilgrimage in the middle of the night to the sacred temple. Perhaps she would have been a priestess, and he a guard of the city, and they were coming in secret to make a supplication to the goddess, asking Athena to release her daughter from her vows so that they could marry without incurring her wrath. 

The thought made her giddy, and she squeezed his hand, a new skip in her step. 

“You’re chipper this morning,” he observed. 

“Just happy to be with you.”

He smiled thinly, and didn’t say anything in response. 

But she didn’t care. Her whole life was about to change–for the better. She didn’t have a care in the world. 

The security guard, nursing a coffee of her own, let them in without a word. Hans trailed behind them, far enough away that they could speak privately, but close enough in case Annabeth needed some magical backup. She was lucky, she supposed. Her country’s affection for her family was high enough that mortal threats weren’t really a concern. But when they reached the base of the ramp which led to the Propylaia, Hans stopped in his tracks, waving her on. Trusting her alone with Percy. 

She nodded at him, grateful. He turned away, pulling out a cigarette. 

In silence, they continued on to the top of the hill, and Annabeth had never been more grateful for the choice to wear sneakers, giving her steady footing on the worn marble. Percy, however, wasn’t so lucky, one false step causing him to slip, teetering towards the edge of the switchbacked path. 

“Whoa!” 

Annabeth snatched him up around the waist, pulling him back towards a marble bench. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, shaky. “I’m fine.” He looked up at her, sheepish. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“This damn hill,” he grumbled. “I’ve been to the Acropolis, like, four times this summer, and I’ve tripped over something every single time.” 

“Well, just be careful,” she said. “If you roll your ankle, I have to carry you out of here myself.” 

“Not Hans?” he teased.

She shrugged. “I can handle it.” 

“I’m sure you could.” A beat, and then he embraced her, so suddenly it almost knocked the wind out of her. He held her close, close enough that she could feel his ragged heartbeat, adrenaline sending it racing, and she shut her eyes, breathing in the ever-present sea salt smell of him. “I love you,” he murmured into her hair. “I love you so much.” 

When he pulled back, she was shocked to see his eyes were red. “Percy?” 

“I’m fine,” he said thickly, wiping his eyes. “Come on. Daylight’s wasting.” 

Pink had begun to bleed into the sky, coloring the haze of the far off mountains, creeping ever closer to sunrise. 

They made it through the gate without further incident, and even though Annabeth had seen the Parthenon hundreds of times, in person and online and in dreams, it still stopped her in her tracks. It was a magnificent building, of course, even with the scaffolding holding it together, and she couldn’t help but mentally run through the facts for the millionth time. Pentelic marble, peripteral Doric, perfect proportions. Fluted columns, ionic capitals, no base. Eight by seventeen, slight tapering to account for human perception. Once upon a time, it had been covered in color, a bright, shining beacon of civilization, a living record of war and conquest. The Giants, the Amazons, the Lapiths and the Centaurs, the sack of Troy and the victory over the Persians–the Parthenon was a monument to it all, and to the goddess who presided over them. 

Now if only the British Museum would give back the damn statues.

“Let me guess,” Percy said. “You’re imagining what it would look like with all the marbles restored.” 

She smiled, sheepishly. “You caught me. I have another meeting with the Prime Minister next month.”

“Fifth time’s the charm?” 

“Here’s hoping.” 

“You know, you’ve corrupted me,” he said. “Before I met you, a temple was just a temple. Now every time I see a Greek temple, I have to count the number of columns. The long side is always twice the number of the short side, plus one. I never noticed that before. Not until you showed me.” 

“Sorry.” 

He shook his head. “What for? I never said it was a bad thing. Here.” He took both of her hands, and led her over to the Erechtheion, picking his way around the stones which jutted up from the grass. The pink sky was beginning to blossom into a fiery orange, streaked through with yellow, heralding the sun. “Like with the Erechtheion,” he said. “There’s so much I never noticed about this place before you–the irregular construction, the decorative elements, the whole…” he waved a hand at the stone, but never took his eyes off her. “All of it. Before you, it was just another old building.” 

“A fucked-up old building?” she recalled, remembering a warm spring night on the Aegean, tangled up with her lover on a boat and under the stars. 

He grinned, hopefully recalling the same. “The building of the mighty Poseidon,” he corrected. “I don’t think he’d be too happy to hear you call it that.” 

She didn’t think he’d be too happy with her in general, given the whole rivalry thing, but whatever. “Meh,” she echoed. “I’m dating his favorite sailor. I think I’ll be okay.” 

In the fading dark of sunrise, Annabeth saw his face fall. The gray shadow of the temple made him look ashen, pale. Afraid. 

“What is it?” 

He glanced at the temple, shoulders tight. “It’s cold,” he said, finally. “Come on. Let’s sit in the sun.” 

The sun was just about to break over the horizon, but she wouldn’t push it. 

Percy led her out of the shadow of the Erechtheion, towards the very eastern edge of the site. There, where there had once been a circular watchtower, now flew the flag of Greece, hanging limp in the stillness of dawn. She sat on the wall-bench of the observation point, back against the lip of the retaining wall, and tipped her head back. It was quiet. Seagulls cried in the very far distance. At some point, the floodlights had switched off automatically, leaving them suspended in time, colorless, hovering between tonight and tomorrow, between her past and their future.

But her future didn’t join her on the bench. He just stood there. Looking at her. 

“Percy? What’s wrong?”

She could see his chest moving as he breathed, deep and measured. His mouth hung open, and she could almost see the wheels in his brain turning as he searched for what to say. 

And then, warmth.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the sun had just breached the mountains, the yellow glare shielded by the looming shadow of Mt. Lycabettus, the tallest point of the city.

When she looked back, Percy had dropped to one knee. 

She felt her breath catch. Felt the tears preemptively pool in her eyes. She was a princess. She was a demigoddess, a hero, a feminist, a–a shieldmaiden! She was not supposed to be the kind of woman for whom her engagement was the pinnacle of her entire life. But it was Percy, on his knee before, looking up at her with those green eyes. Looking like he belonged here, between the Athena and Poseidon shrines. She felt like she was in some sort of movie. Every perfect thing coming down to this moment. 

“I was really glad you wanted us to come here,” Percy said, “I… this seemed a fitting place for me to tell you. To say maybe the most important thing I’ve ever said before.”

“A question?” She asked, even though she probably shouldn’t have.

He smiled, lopsided and trouble-making and so, so beautiful. “Could be,” he said, and her heart nearly skipped right out of her chest. “But first…” he looked around, wary, like he was expecting something to jump out. 

Or someone.

“This is the place,” he said, after a moment of silence. His eyes were stormy–thrilling… and scary. “This is the place where Poseidon lost the contest of Athens to Athena.”

Despite herself, she felt her smile drop. It was a story she knew well, had grown up with it and been weaned on it, curled up in her father’s embrace as a little girl as he read to her from the big yellow book of Greek myths every night before she went to bed–but she didn’t know why it suddenly made the bottom of her stomach fall out. 

And then, he said, “This is the spot where… where my father lost to Athena.”

His… “Your father?” The words sounded like they came from very far away. Her face felt numb. 

“My father,” he repeated. “Poseidon. God of the sea.” 

She must be confused, she must not be understanding. An unusual place for her to be, but not impossible. Annabeth was used to being the smartest person in any and all rooms she was in. And so it only took her a few seconds to really, properly process what she was being told. To take that information in and put it up against so much else she’d seen but not really noticed over the past four years. 

“That explains so much,” she said. Her mind quickly flicked through the many details and strange little facts she’d collected, but never been able to fit together. 

At least her brain was moving too fast for her to stop for a second and feel. 

His eyebrows pulled together, that little pinch she always thought was adorable. “It does?”

She nodded, and didn’t meet his eyes. “There was a sea monster, wasn’t there? In Mérida, at the last Olympics. That’s why you lost your lead.” 

He froze, down on one knee. “...Yeah. There was.”

“And that day, when we went out on the boat, you got my hat back, and dried it with water magic,” she continued. “Hans’ team spent a truly insane number of manhours trying to track down your father. But they never could. It was like he didn’t exist.” 

“...What are you saying?” 

“I don’t think anyone ever guessed you were a demigod,” she said. “Which was probably silly. Hans should have known better. And Dad.”

He stared at her, mouth open and gaping like a– “Annabeth?”

The tears finally spilled from her eyes. “Percy,” she said, not sure if she was crying from joy or sorrow. “My mother is Athena.” 

***

Percy’s whole body went cold. The ring box was heavy in his jacket pocket, weighing him down like an albatross. “Athena?” 

She nodded, hanging her head. “Yes. I’m a demigod, too.” 

And suddenly, every little thing that had ever felt out of place snapped into a neat, logical, devastating line. 

Her proficiency with weapons–not just the hobby of some rich girl, but an innate skill. Jokes from her whole family about following the “old ways” that always seemed to hedge a little too close to seriousness. A gaping black hole where her mother should be. 

Just like him. 

How hadn’t he seen it sooner?

Stunned, the next few words just slipped out. “I didn’t know Athena could have children.” 

She snapped her red-rimmed eyes to him. “Are you calling me a liar?” 

“What? No! I just–isn’t she a virgin goddess? How would that even, uh… work?” 

“You’re a classics major,” she said, crossing her arms, hunching in on herself. He could practically see sparks of irritation flying off of her, filling the space she left empty. “I assume you’re familiar with the birth of Athena?”

“Sure,” he hedged, feeling suddenly unmoored. “She was born from Zeus’ head.”

Annabeth looked at him, pointedly. 

So… she was born the same way? “But,” he stammered, his thoughts scattered across the sacred rock, “but… you have a belly button.” 

Pretty much immediately, Percy knew that was the wrong thing to say. 

“Yeah,” she said, stony. “What, were you expecting me to be some kind of freak?” 

Okay. He was now and truly lost. “That’s not–” 

She crossed her legs, cutting him off. “Well, I’m not. I have all my extremities. Just like you.” 

“I… didn’t think you didn’t.” Because why would he? He had seen them all for himself. He had, ahem, explored all the nooks and crannies of her body, many times, had touched and kissed every extremity, every inch of skin… every inch of scar. 

He had seen her scars. Had traced the lines of them, up and down. He hadn’t commented on them, because why would he? His own body was riddled with the same scars. Claw marks and magic burns and the odd sword swipe. They were normal for him. 

They were normal for her, too. 

Because they were the same. 

So why did the thought suddenly fill him with dread? 

“When,” he started, mouth dry, “when did you know?” 

“My whole life. You?” 

“I was six. Luke told me.” It had been a weird day, but one he could look back on fondly. But right now, he could barely remember it. All he could cling to was the one shining, defining difference between them–she had known about her parentage her whole life, and he had only been told about his later. 

And then, he huffed a laugh, surprising himself. 

She frowned. “What?” 

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just figures, is all.” 

“What figures?” 

“Figures that I had to have it spelled out for me while you had it handed to you on a silver platter.”

She rounded her jaw, eyes glistening in the morning light. 

Fuck. This was not how he wanted this to go. “I–” 

“Figures for you as well,” she cut in, avoiding his gaze. “Swimming, sailing, water polo–it all comes from your father.” 

Anger, hot and spiky, lanced through him out of nowhere. “Are you saying I’m only good at what I do because of my dad?” 

She snapped her eyes to him, taken aback by his tone. “No! Of course not!” 

“Because if I wanted to coast on my genetics, I would have just gone with swimming,” he growled, surprising himself with his own vitriol. “Sailing is hard work. Keeping track of the winds, the waves, the sail, the physics–it’s hard work. And I picked it because I knew it would be hard work. Because I’ve had to work my entire life. Not that you would know anything–” 

He cut himself off, standing, before he said something he really regretted. 

Except the damage was already done.

Her hands tightened where they clutched her arms, the tips of her fingers digging into her skin. “I see,” she said, quietly. “So that’s what you really think of me.”

“No, it’s–” He sighed, hanging his head. Breathing in through his nose, he held his breath and counted to ten, before his anger got the best of him again. 

When he looked back up, Annabeth’s eyes were fixed on the ground, her shoulders just barely trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of line. And it’s not true.” When she didn’t answer, he sat down next to her, gratified that she didn’t at least move away from him. “I’m really sorry.” 

Stiffly, she nodded.

“It’s just… I’m sick and tired of being out of the loop. You don’t tell me you’re a princess, you make me leave for meetings–”

“That’s a national security thing–” 

“Everything about you is a national security thing!” He burst out, losing his grip. “Everything you are is some kind of secret that I don’t get to know about, even after we’ve been dating for four years!” 

“I’ve told you plenty,” she said, eyes welling up again. “I’ve told you about my dad, and my insecurities, and all my fears about me and my country–” 

“But nothing about you being a demigod!”

Her face went red. “What the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, stranger, not only is my dad a king, my mom is a Greek goddess, wanna fuck?’”

“No, I just–” 

“You said I was entitled to my secrets,” she stood, pointing at him accusingly. “Just like you were entitled to yours. That was your promise.” 

“Yeah, at the beginning of our relationship, not four years in when I’m about to propose to you!”

She froze, as still and imposing as marble. Percy’s heart had crawled up his throat, threatening to choke him, and in that moment, he was overcome with the sudden need to assert himself. To let her know how she had hurt him. To speak a truth that was even more painful. 

“It’s like–it’s like I don’t even know you.” 

In one swift instant, her tears dried up, evaporating in the heat of her anger. She glared down at him, imposing and impossible, her gray eyes cold and sure and beautiful, it took his breath away.

Of course she was beautiful. Her mother–Athena–had been in Paris’s contest, after all. If Lady Athena had even half of her daughter’s beauty, it was a fucking miracle that she had lost, Helen or no Helen. 

Annabeth whipped around, her blonde curls flying in the sudden wind, making her way back towards the Propylaea. 

But she turned back to look at him, once, at the far edge of the Erechtheion, her mother’s temple to her right, and his father’s to her left. The clear concrete pathway between them felt as wide as an ocean, and just as insurmountable.

Percy felt like the Athenians, thousands of years ago, worshiping their patroness. Worshipful and fearful and in love in equal measures. 

Percy felt like his father, so thoroughly cowed, so beaten. Forever changed, forever brought down by this great and powerful woman. Brought low before her like so many men had been for millennia. 

How did you ever get over someone like her? 

He thought back to his father. And to King Frederick and a handful of awkward dinners with Princess Consort Mary. 

On both counts, Percy was pretty sure, you never did. 

He sat there where their parents' rivalry began–and was still going strong, even after all this time –for a long time, as the sun slowly crept up the sky, until the security guard from earlier came to get him. “Excuse me,” she said, not unkindly. Which was unexpected. In his experience, security guards, Greek or Swedish or otherwise, didn’t take too kindly to him. Maybe they knew something he didn’t. “We’re opening to the public soon.

Percy nodded and stood up. “Sorry.”

“Your friend left thirty minutes ago,” she said, not responding. And then, curiosity must have gotten the better of her. “So… what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Percy said, and he wasn’t. He really really wasn’t sure. The walk back down the hill didn’t clarify things, either. 

A drink might. Or maybe a nap. Maybe he could go back to the Village, grab Jason and Frank and take them out for some midday drinks in Exarchia, take the edge off with some bro-time. 

Halfway down to the city, he stopped to lean against a green metal grate. Just on the other side was a sign, in English and Greek, pointing the way to the Pnyx, the favored soapbox of great thinkers like Socrates. 

He sighed, heavily. 

Gods, he was so fucking sick and tired of classics. 

They’d given him more than enough problems. And he wasn’t going to let classics ruin his life. Not over this. 

In that moment, he made a decision. He wouldn’t go back to the Village and drown his sorrows.

Instead, he called in the cavalry, and asked them to meet him at the Tiki Bar around the corner of the Acropolis Museum. Because he was fucking sick and tired of classics. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be having celebratory engagement sex right now?” Was Luke’s first question as he walked up to the bar where Percy had parked himself, a very bleary Nico and Hazel in tow. Honestly, Percy was surprised he had gotten the younger ones to even show up. The children of the Underworld fully lived up to their reputation as night people, and here they were, deigning to show their faces just after 8 AM.

Luke took one look at Percy’s face, and his own fell, instantly. “Kid? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said, and it was true. He didn’t know what was wrong. And then he said, “Annabeth is a demigod.” That was true, but it wasn’t what was wrong. Why was that bad? It shouldn’t be bad. 

As one, all three of their jaws dropped, eyes going wide. “What?” That was Hazel, now fully awake. “She’s a demigod?” 

“That explains a lot,” said Nico, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “She had a real power vibe, but I thought maybe it was the monarch thing.” 

Percy didn’t want to even try and dissect what that meant.

“She’s a daughter of Athena,” Percy said, but for the first time in about an hour, it didn’t feel like a terrible, horrible thing. In fact, it was almost a neutral observation. Possibly even edging towards something exciting. 

Because Annabeth was a demigod–just like him. Another member of his extended family.  

Hazel gasped. “But Minerva’s a virgin goddess,” she exclaimed, aghast at the very idea. “She’s not supposed to have children!” 

“Annabeth kind of explained it,” Percy said, frowning at the memory. Brain children. It was still kind of a tough idea to wrap his head around. Even though she did have a belly button. “She’s born from Athena like Athena was born from Zeus. I think. I wasn’t paying great attention.” 

“Seems like it should have been important–” But Nico’s snark was cut off by Luke cuffing his head.

“Percy,” Luke said, blue eyes staring at him. “What happened?”

“We had a fight,” he admitted, face flushing from shame. “I'm not even sure… I was just so surprised and kind of overwhelmed by the idea. and I think I kind of freaked out.” Understatement of the century. But then again… maybe she did, too. “I called her privileged and then she stormed off, and…”

“Did you two break up?”

He jolted, like he had been struck by lightning. Or perhaps a spear. Before that moment, the thought had never occurred to him. Athena or not, secrets or not, divine intervention, ancient rivalries, four years of lies or not, he didn't want to break up. Not ever. She was the love of his life. 

“No,” he shook his head emphatically. “We didn't break up.” They had fought, sure, but there had been no resolution. And until she told him otherwise to his face, they were still together. 

Hopefully forever.

“Do you want to break up?”

“Never.” He wanted to tell her Paris was a fool for not choosing her mother if Athena was half as beautiful as she was. He wanted to promise to fell sea monsters and the Minotaur itself for her sake. He wanted to return to the Garden at the very edge of the day, and bring her a golden apple taken from beneath the sleeping dragon’s nose. He wanted to sit in her little apartment in the palace in Stockholm and rub her feet and tell her all about his adventures and ask her about hers, and talk about where Norse monsters ranked on the scale of divine irritation.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Sometimes Nico's bluntness was too much for him, but right now he appreciated the direction.

“I don't know. I was hoping you guys might have some ideas.” 

The cousins glanced between each other, all equally lost. “Flowers?” Hazel suggested, hopping up onto the stool next to him. “Maybe a gift?” 

“Maybe.” A gift wasn’t a bad idea. But it would have to be a hell of a gift. 

Still, something on Hazel’s face troubled him. 

It must have troubled her brother, too, because he placed a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?” 

A knife slowly scraped across the wooden bar, inching its way towards her. “It’s just,” she said, biting her lip, “if she really is the daughter of Min–Athena, then…” 

Nico dragged a stool so he could sit next to her, bumping their shoulders together. Luke, taller than all of them, stood behind her, the three of them leaning in close to listen.

“There’s this story I heard from a friend once, about Minerva.” she mumbled. “When the Romans conquered Athens, they stole something from the city. Something that belonged to her. Supposedly, that’s why Athena and Minerva are so different, personality-wise.” 

Percy nodded, following along. Mostly. The different aspects thing still hurt his head sometimes. Hazel and Nico had tried to explain it to them numerous times, but Percy just couldn’t seem to get it. “What was stolen?”

“No one knows,” she said. The knife started making circles on the bar. “Minerva’s descendents have been looking for it ever since. But no one’s ever found it.” She glanced at her brother. “Remember what Ella said?” 

“Ella?” Luke asked.

“Tyson’s girlfriend–the harpy.” Nico twirled his skull ring around his finger. “She memorized the Sibylline Oracles. Whenever she’s stressed, she likes to spout random lines of prophecy, and the last time we saw her, she told us one. She said, ‘Wisdom’s daughter walks alone.’”

Percy stared. “Wisdom’s daughter walks alone?” 

“Yeah.” Nico shivered. “I don’t know what it means.” 

“I do. Luke, your mom, when we introduced her to Annabeth–” 

Luke gaped. “My mom? That was, what, two years ago? How–” 

“You know she has the power of prophecy,” Percy said. “And she gave one to Annabeth that day.” His mind raced, bits and pieces slotting together like a puzzle he just figured out he was doing. “Luke, do you still have that disk we found?” 

He frowned in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“Do you have it on you?” 

“No, it’s back in my…” he trailed off, his hand automatically going to his pocket. Luke was as shocked as anyone when he pulled it out. 

“I thought you left it in your safe,” Hazel said.

“I thought I did, too.” 

Percy held out his hand, and thought of his latest adventure. The dice game, the cistern, the disk with the owl on it. The owl he knew from Annabeth's tattoo. “I don't know why I didn't see it before,” he said, taking the disk from his cousin, “but that's an owl. Athena's owl. It looks just like the drachma tattoo she has on her foot.” He thought about his own tattoos, blue lines forming the shape of waves and tridents. Thought about phykios, and codename Septentrion, and the million little hints in both directions. 

“You think this belongs to Athena?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, “and she wanted us to find it. She wanted me to find it.” He couldn't help but smile, even if it wasn't really the time for laughing matters.

“Not sure what good that's going to do with you and the daughter of Minerva breaking up,” Hazel muttered, uncharacteristically harsh. 

He didn’t know what would happen. But he knew what he wanted. And what the first step to getting it might look like. “Athena led me to the disk so I could give it to Annabeth. I owe her that much at least.”

“You think you owe Minerva?”

“No,” Percy shook his head, “Not Minerva. Not Athena, either. But I know I owe Annabeth.”

It was four years of lies, yes. But it was also four years of love. 

If he could, he would give her the world. He wanted to give her his heart, red with his love, and he certainly wished he could give her the ring still burning a hole in his pocket.

But he could start with this: a message from her mother.

And what could be a greater peace offering, a better olive branch, than a son of Poseidon helping a daughter of Athena with her quest? 

“Okay then,” Luke said. “Nico, get us a couple of piña coladas, and then we can get down to business.” 

“At 8 AM?” 

“Trust me,” he grinned, predatory, like he was about to hotwire a car, or sell a techbro a useless JPEG. Or steal some rich kid’s boat for his cousin so he could teach them a lesson. “We’re going to need them.” 

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

have a bunch of tbs prompts actually!

-something that fills in a little bit the space between tama and tct since i feel like a lot was skipped in the podcast that you could dip into (all the developing relationships and moving ons)

-joan cutting marks hair after he comes back from the roadtrip with damien

-sam/mark dancing together when their relationship is still new

im happy if anything even gets written, this fandom is sadly so dead and i love any and all additions no matter what they look like

thank you for these prompts! Hoping to get all of them written eventually, but have this one for now. Hope you enjoy!

TW for canon-typical PTSD/depression, Mark post Tier-5, etc.

Mark’s first few weeks back in Boston are a fun amalgamation of Good Things and Bad Things.

Good Things include but are not limited to: Sam. Really good Scotch. Drinking really good Scotch with Sam that he stole from his sister. His sister.

Bad Things include but are not limited to: Nightmares. Damien. Knowing Damien is just Out There getting his ability back. The way Sam looks at him sometimes like she’s not quite sure who he is. The way his sister looks at him sometimes, like he’s just the broken mess of a thing who took her baby brother away. His sister.

Joanie, despite her best efforts, fits neatly into both camps. She’s always been special like that.

The days blur together in a haze of booze and bad dreams, interspersed with all too brief moments of light. Sam drags him out of the house– he has a panic attack at the grocery store. She takes him out to dinner– the waiter tells her she needs to “fatten him up.” She curls up next to him on the couch, warm and real and living, and he feels hyper-aware of every way in which his body fails to live up to the ghost she fell in love with.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when his hair starts to bother him more than anything else.

“Mark?” Joanie calls, rapping her knuckles against the half-open door of her closet turned guest room. Mark was supposed to be getting ready– because Joan refuses to leave the house if he’s still in bed or pajamas, but then she never lets him hear the end of it if she has to cancel on patients, so he at least has to make himself get dressed each morning, even if he falls back into a depressed stupor on the couch the second she walks out the door– but he got stuck at the mirror. He’s wearing jeans, slung low and loose on his hips because Joanie keeps insisting he’ll “grow into them” like he’s five, a t-shirt in his hands. He hasn’t managed to work up the energy to actually pull it over his head yet, but it’s not his scrawny, scarred chest that has him stuck in his own head.

It’s the hair, clean but unruly, reaching almost all the way to his shoulders.

He hates it.

“Mark!” Joan says again, sharper this time, and he startles back into action, mutters, “Hey, sorry, what” as he finally puts his shirt on, his reflection disappearing behind the fabric for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” He tugs his jeans up a little. Fixes his shirt over top. Runs a hand through his hair and then shakes it out like he’s touched something slimy.

He still can’t quite tear his gaze away from the mirror, not even to give his sister a more convincing proof of life.

“Okay, well…” Joan hovers in the doorway. “I’ve got a nine o’clock, so I’m gonna get going…”

“Okay.” Mark gathers his hair up into one hand, turning one way and then the other to try and see how it would look short again. “Have fun.”

Joan still doesn’t move. After a beat, she says, “Is Sam coming over?”

Mark sighs and pats his hair flat again, giving up on trying to make it how it used to be through sheer force of will. “No, she’s got plans with Chloe. And frankly, I think she needs a break from my bullshit.”

“Do you want me to cut that for you?”

He was expecting a big sister/therapist response along the lines of now, Mark, if you say all those negative things about yourself, you’ll just end up believing them, so the question startles him enough that he finally looks at her. “What?”

“Your… hair,” Joanie says, gesturing a little awkwardly. “You keep fussing with it. Is it bothering you?”

Mark grabs a belt from his bed and starts looping it through his jeans– anything to not have to look his sister in the eye. “It’s fine, I just gotta get to the barber.”

They both know perfectly well why he hasn’t yet. The idea of sitting in a chair with restricted access to his hands while a strange man brings sharp objects close to his neck just about makes him wanna fall back into a coma.

But he hates looking like someone who lost autonomy over his own life for the better part of five years. He wants to feel like himself again, and the first step in doing that is to look like himself again.

Joan looks at her watch, shifts her weight from foot to foot. “I really have to get going… but when I get home, we’ll talk about this some more, okay? Maybe we can figure something out.”

***

Joan calls on her way home from work (because she’s an insane person who still has a landline) to say “Meet me on the porch. If you’re wearing something nice, change your clothes.”

Mark is not wearing something nice. He changed back into sweatpants before noon, and he’s pretty sure this t-shirt once belonged to Joanie’s college boyfriend Derek. And part of him wants to see the annoyed look on Joan’s face when she gets home and he has not, in fact, met her on the porch, but honestly he’s too curious about what tricks she has up her sleeve to want to waste time pissing her off.

So he’s leaning over the porch railing when Joan’s car pulls into the driveway. She gets out of the car and calls, “Good! You listened!” and Mark becomes painfully aware of the differences between the two of them– Joan in her neat blouse and pencil skirt, heels in hand as she runs barefoot up the drive, versus Mark in ill-fitting hand-me-downs and Crocs.

“Wait here,” Joan commands, rushing past him into the house. “I’ll be right back. Did you have a good day?”

Mark rolls his eyes, not even dignifying that question with a response.

A few minutes later, she emerges, having changed into shorts and a t-shirt, carrying a folding chair under one arm, her other hand clutched around a handheld mirror and a pair of kitchen scissors.

Mark blinks, the pieces falling into place. “Wait, you were serious? You’re gonna cut my hair?”

“Why not, right?” Joan plops the chair down in the middle of the porch. “Either I do a great job and it gives you the confidence to leave the house more, or I don’t and Sam dumps you, but at least the length won’t bother you so much anymore.”

Mark glares at her, but there’s no heat to it. “It has… been bothering me,” he reluctantly admits.

Joan snips her scissors in the air. “Sit, then.”

He sits. Joan plays the Roman Holiday soundtrack on her phone, for some ambiance. Mark closes his eyes, and then, when that paired with Joan’s fingers brushing up against his neck brings back bad memories, stares into the mirror Joan brought so he can see each clump of hair fall away.

He watches as the broken boy who was imprisoned, and then trapped, and then kidnapped disappears, leaving in its place… Mark.

The Mark Sam met in 1810. The Mark Joan spent years working to save. The Mark he wants to be.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for this.”

Joan combs through his newly shorn hair with her fingers. “You can ask next time, you know. You can ask me for anything.”

Mark’s still not sure about that just yet, but he is sure of one thing: Joanie has a firm spot on the Good Things list today.

--

Taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added or removed):

@pandoradeloeste

@genericgirl420

@sizzlingjudgebanditpaper

@ziggy-st4dust

@flibbertigibbety-jibber-jabber

@friendlyfishboy

@bakugouuuwu

@alexacat57

@jaytheunique

@mercale

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick’. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

[aziraphales-library]

ok so im not sure if this will make any sense, but i was wondering if you had any recs for like,,,big fics

an example would be "the time before" or "a memory of eden"

fics that are multi chapter, have a long over arching plot, preferably ones that involve the whole season 1 gang (anathema, newton, the them etc.)

sorry if that made no sense!!

(oh also any sort of relationship between aziraphale and crowley is fine. i dont mind. maybe preferably fics with no smut but it doesn't matter really)

thanks!!

You’ll want to check our #long fic and #apocalypse buddies tags for more fics like this. You didn’t specify if you wanted to avoid AUs or not (because there are loads of those), so I’ve stuck to canon-compliant. Here you go...

Earthbound Creatures by IneffableToreshi (T)

In burning Agnes Nutter's second book of prophecies, Anathema and Newt discover a mysterious page that refuses to go up in flame. Atop it is written a poem which neither, at that time, can hope to understand.

Something is happening, wheels are turning, and neither Heaven nor Hell are wont to forgive and forget. An Angel and a Demon are very much in danger of losing one another.

Keep Yourself Alive by Jlocked & The_Lady_of_Purpletown (T)

The Apocalypse didn’t happen, and Aziraphale and Crowley's respective Offices have been dealt with. For now. This should be a time for celebration and enjoying their life on Earth. But it seems Heaven has a different Plan for Aziraphale, and Crowley might not be able to solve this.

Meditations on Domestic Bliss by wordsphoenix (NR)

Everyone is alive. Time for an angel and a demon to start doing some living. Preferably in close proximity and with deeper significance than the friendship previously mentioned, since feelings are very much allowed now that Aziraphale and Crowley are aligned with emotionally-driven creatures, and, more importantly, each other.

Good Endings by WyvernQuill (T)

A Narrative of Certain Events following the Ending of the World (Except Not Quite), as vaguely hinted at in The Slapdash and Not Very Helpful Prophetic Tidbit of Agnes Nutter, Witch (And Matchmaker.)

"Their lives are in horrible, terrible danger that only we can save them from!" Anathema held up the Prophetic Tidbit. "It says so. Right here." Madame Tracy peered at the page. Raised a meaningful eyebrow. "Dearie, as a woman of, well, considerable experience, I really don't think that's what 'the lyttle Deathe' means in this context..."

"Huh." Anathema squinted. Flipped the page. Read another bit. "....huh."

(Or, alternatively: Eight - give or take - matchmakers trying really, really hard, honest; two clueless ethereal/occult beings mutually pining their endless days away; and one witch, who can't leave well enough alone when it comes to matters of the heart, no matter how many centuries ago she died.)

Time is the Longest Distance by Beckers522 (M)

Six months had passed since the world hadn't ended and life was good. Life was more than good. It was more than nice. Life on Earth, here in his little corner of London, here with Crowley by his side was absolutely wonderful. Until the day that it wasn't. Until Aziraphale walked into Crowley's flat to find his best friend mysteriously discorporated with both Heaven and Hell staying silent on the matter. With Crowley trapped in Hell and Aziraphale unable to reach him, the pair set off to find their way back to each other. They will have to fight against Heaven, Hell, and Time itself to make their way back into each others arms once more.

This is a full-length story based off the comic by the wonderfully talented Lei_sam. If you have not seen it yet, you need to go check it out. Link in the notes section.

Love is a Temporary Madness by Beckers522 (T)

"They'll leave us alone, for a bit. If you ask me, both sides are going to use this as breathing space, before the big one." "I thought that was the big one." "No. For my money, the really big one is going to be all of us against all of them." "What? Heaven and Hell against...humanity?"

The Apocalypse has come and gone, but Heaven and Hell aren't satisfied. They'd tried and failed to enact their revenge once. Perhaps it is time to try a different strategy.

And the two you mentioned (I assume--please include authors and/or links as well as titles!)...

A Memory of Eden by ImprobableDreams900 (M)

When Crowley gets captured by angels and dragged up to Heaven, Aziraphale knows he has to rescue him—no matter the consequences.

The Time Before by M4R4N14MH (G)

The Apocalypse is not long over and Aziraphale is looking forward to a life free of Heaven and Hell and, most importantly, full of a certain Anthony J. Crowley. That is, until reality attempts to set in again. Now Angels and Demons are being murdered, Heaven and Hell are in disarray, and Aziraphale reunites with a friend older than God Herself. Alpha Centauri has never looked so welcoming, in Crowley’s opinion.

- Mod D

[dragondevinity]

Life stopped, life restarted in another world..?

Chapter one

Readers POV

‘I can’t believe Ive been here for two weeks! Life here is so nice besides the Queen making the dragons raid the village, I know that the dragons have to but it’s still not good for anything involved… I’m just lucky I haven’t been in a fight with a dragon myself…’ I thought while kneading bread dough.

“Y/n! I’ve told you that you already do so much! Go take a break!” Valka says to me with a stern face.

“But Valka! I feel like you and Stoick have done so much for me! The least I can do is help with the cooking and cleaning!” I replied feeling bad.

“Fine..! But at least take a break once in a while.” Valka said with a sigh.

“Plus, this is barely anything, so don’t worry Valka! Plus don’t you like my cooking?” I stated.

“I do, and it’s helping a lot” Valka replies.

“You’re a great cook lassie, she just feels like you’re doing more than a guest should, and not to mention her cooking skills don’t really-“ Gobber says while walking in with Stoick before he gets cut off by Stoick giving him a stern look him.

“What he means to say is we appreciate you cooking and cleaning” Stoick says to me, still slightly annoyed at Gobber.

“T-thank you!” I said, my voice stuttering.

“Okay time to change the topic, anyways are you here for dinner Gobber? It’ll be done in an hour if you are” I asked trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes I am lassie, I’m looking forward to try the food these two keep raving about, I heard you know recipes that contain something called a toma- something?” Gobber asked interested.

“I’ll gladly tell you different things that are good to make with Tomatoes!” I replied happily before explaining things I could make…

*time skip*

Third POV

“Stoick, when are you going to have people start building Y/n’s hut, the lass has been living with you and Valka for months” Gobber states confused at his friend.

“Me and Valka… like having her around, she brings more light to our lives” Stoick replied.

“Ohhh, the lass has herself a place in both you and Valka’s hearts, would it even work for the three of you, together I mean” Gobber asks slightly concerned.

“Well we haven’t told her yet, but we plan to ask her soon” Stoick replies happily.

“I wish ye three luck then” Gobber says with a small smile.

*time skip, again, only like a day though*

Readers POV

‘Why did I have to be grabbed by a dragon in the woods- god I wish I could understand dragons-‘ I thought before hearing… a voice..?

*“Geez this female is so calm, isn’t she that Viking that kiln said was crazy and trying to kill him with part of a tree..? Shoot did I grab the wrong female!”* the dragon said making me startled.

“Holy shit- did you just talk..? That’s so cool! Oh my gods!!” I say out loud which shocks the dragon carrying me.

*“you can understand me..???!”* the dragon says astonished.

“Oh my gods! You actually did talk! And I can understand you!!” I said giddily.

*“Were you the one that joined in to attack Kiln when the male Vikings were fighting him..?”* the dragon asked.

“Ah, yes, yes I was, I would like to apologise to- Kiln was it?- about that, I heard screaming and I thought he was a bird when I attempted to attack…” I replied slightly embarrassed.

*“im sure he’ll forgive you, he’s a nice dragon when not following the Queen’s orders, so don’t worry!”* the dragon replied with a slight purr.

“Thank you, and what’s your name..?” I asked since I don’t want to continue calling him ‘the dragon’ in my head.

*“my name is Terra, I’m a spike tail”* Terra replies happily.

*“you aren’t a normal human besides being able to understand me, huh?”* Terra asks confused.

“I’m not, truthfully I’m not a real Viking and haven’t ever been… but that’s not the point, how did you know..?” I asked.

*“You remind me of a tribe of people I was told about, fierce warriors who disliked hurting dragons”* he replied.

“Ah, there’s a few of those outside the archipelago, I’ve never met them sadly, I wish to one day if I can though” I explained happily.

*“What do you know of dragons miss?”* he asks after we land safely on a sea stack.

“That there’s a lot of species of you guys as well as a Queen as well as kings of dragons you might follow, I know you follow the Queen, I don’t blame you guys for attacking all the villages but I wish it could stop!” I replied confused at his question.

*“Most dragons don’t know a lot about the world, that Queen who some follow is a tyrant, if I had a choice I would abandon her… she even expects us to execute the dragons that are… ones that aren’t worth keeping around, or ones that are deemed dangerous because they can become like you…”* he states looking sad.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, it’s not fun I’m guessing…” I replied sadly.

*“it isn’t… most of them are dead, they might even be fully gone…”* he says.

“Is it okay if I ask how they could become like me..?” I asked softly.

*“Well to do so they have to have died and survived… I don’t know how else to describe it…”* he replied.

“Wait, what..? Does that mean I can?-” I tried to ask.

*“Wait what, you did that already..? Well the way to transform from what I was told once is to concentrate on becoming something other than your normal form… but that might be wrong, it’s been years after all, but it should be worth a shot..?”* he replies.

“Should I try now..? Worst that happens is I can’t change” I say.

*“You should try, but I don’t know if it will work…”* he replied with a slight nod.

“Okay let me try..!” I replied before starting to focus…

*“!!! Female- what did you become-!”* he says startled.

*“It worked! Wait why does it feel like I’m covered in a full body blanket..?”* I said before looking Terra picks me up suddenly.

*“don’t worry I’m just taking you to a pond to look at you new form…”* he says to my panic.

*“oh! Thank you Terra!”* I replied relaxing slightly.

*“here we are! Just look”* he says after we land.

*“EHHHH?!?! I’m not a dragon! This is a dinosaur..?!?!? How in the world?!?!?”* I say confused as hell.

*”I don’t know, maybe it’s because you weren’t a dragon first..? But that form looks pretty and fluffy!”* he says happily.

*“Aww! Thank you Terra! Also it’s getting late, could you drop me back near where you found me..?”* I asked kindly before switching back to normal.

*“Sure, also if you ever want to do this again meet me where I originally snatched you..?”* Terra asks hopeful.

“Sure Terra! I’ll happily hang out with you again! How about in seven days?” I replied after we took off.

*“that works with me!”* Terra says happily.

‘I’m glad I made another friend..! And I’m so happy I found out about being able to change into an Utah-raptor!! Best day so far!!’ I thought happily before he quickly dropped me off in the forest…

“Y/n!!!!!!! Where are you!!” I heard coming from the village.

‘Shit’ I thought before running as quickly as I could to the village.

“There you are Lassie, the Chief’s been looking for ya! Go before he comes to get ye” Gobber states.

“Ah! Okay! Thanks Gobber!” I quickly said before running off.

[marana1]

A/n: Conny lives and she actually got adopted

N/n: nick name

You just got here in the orphanage and you already made new friends, Ray, Emma and Norman. You were really close with the little kids, your most favorite was Phil, he so adorable! "You're so adorable" you said squishing Phil's face with your hands, Phil chuckles at you, little did you know you were being watched from inside a room.

Ray's pov

I saw her playing with Phil outside from a window in a room, just watching inside from a room close to where i can see anyone, im just observing her

i should tell her about our escape from this orphanage

What was her name again? Wasn't it y/n, I gotta tell her about the orphanage but she keeps getting distracted, she's lately been talking to one of my friends Norman he's been talking about her a lot,

Does he like her or something?

Norman has been acting a little strange since she got here, he seems more happy than usual like he's smiling more, is it because of her, I mean look at her, she's really pretty, (A/n: everyone is except for bullies and you cant say otherwise) maybe he does oh this will be fun ill just mess with him whenever he talks to her ill just flirt with her just to mess with him, i thought with a sneaky smile, but well escape this place with her too

later.....

3rd pov

"Sooooo" Ray said with a small smirk on his pale face he sat on a chair next to Norman, "do you like y/n? are you and her a thing?" he said waiting for his response, he looked left and right like he was searching for something or someone like an excuse to leave and then it looked like he was hesitating, "well no.... but i wish we were'' he responded saying the last part quietly, so Ray couldn't hear it

"Oh really, so she's really free?, Norman you wouldn't mind if i ask her out would you?", Ray said waiting for his response "i wouldn't mind but i don't think she would want like that" Norman said his eyes piercing through Ray's a little and with a frown 'why does he look scary and mad or all of a sudden' Ray thought getting a little nervous so he stood up from the chair and saw a familiar pretty h/c haired girl

"Hey Norman y/n said with a small smile, "hi-i n/n" Norman said smiling back with a unnoticeable blush on his face, Norman isnt normally shy to new people or anyone he just likes y/n, hes normal around Ray and Emma but around y/n hes different Norman and y/n, Ray then noticed she was there, Ray then had a grin on his face and saw a familiar orange haired female  "hey n/n can we have a quick chat, me and Ray gotta tell you something" Emma said, as she walked in on their conversation, 'i gotta tell her before someone or any of us get shipped' the ginger haired girl thought

Norman give Ray and Emma a glare 'what are they doing, whats so important that theyre gonna talk about' he furrowed his eyebrows while thinking, 'i think i need to have a talk with them' "actually can we have a chat i promise itll be short" he said 'no one is telling her' he quickly thought, "hurry up" Ray said as they all went to one room together except for y/n sine she was busy coloring pictures 'what are they talking about is it me', she laughed, not knowing that the conversation was about her, 'when am i gonna get adopted' she thought happily, then she heard some yelling

"What do you mean, youve been acting very weird since she -" Ray got by another voice, Norman sighed, then said, "actually can you guys do me a favor please", "what is it?" Ray said with curiosity, "can you not talk to y/n, i mean you and Emma, can you not talk to her" he then said "its fine if you dont want to" 'i had a plan anyway' he thought "we are gonna tell her about this place tonight Ray" Emma said and she looked at him and he nodded at her as Norman left the room and he had a key which he locked the door with

Few days later

.

.

.

You were running in the woods with Norman and the other kids, you werent playing hide and seek, you were running for your life, Norman told you, he told you everything, the place was already in fire, he said that Emma and Ray were just behind us, you think hes lying but youre not sure, you guys were already on the cliff and were about to go the other side of this place, you didnt feel like you were nervous you would fall off, "y/n are you scared" he said looking into your eyes softly, "uh yeah" you said shaking a little and with a worried face

He then stepped closer to you "we can go together" he said blushing a little red, your face warmed a little too he then hugged you "is it ok if i hug you", your face got warmer "yeah its ok" he hugged you tighter and you did the same feeling safe around him, 'together i like that' you thought happily

A/n: was this yandere or not anyway this sucked bye

Also made in 2021

[chososcamgirl]

HIHIHIHI IYAAA SOOOO I JUST CAME BACK FROM HANGING OUT W MY FRIENDSSS AND I DIDNT BUY ANYTHINGG (was gonna spend @ Sephora but ended up reasoning with myself and put everything away YAY ME) BUTTTTTT WE DID END UP WATCHING JOKER 2 SOO IM GONNA RANT ABT IT (to make up for the lost check ins) 😈

HOW WAS WORKK??? HOPE IT WAS VERY SKIBIDIIII!!! TELL ME ABTT IT SIGMA ALPHA IYA🐺💪‼️

I FORGOT IF I SENT MY ACTUALLY DAILY CHECK IN TODAY (I write them in my notes) SO TELL ME IF U DONT SEE IT AND ILL PASTE IT OVER TO TUMBLR (im pretty sure I did but I THINK I FORGOT TO TURN ON ANON SO IF I ACCIDENTALLY DID A BLOG REVEAL KEEP MY IDENTITY A MYSTERY 🤫 BUT TELL ME SO I CAN RESEND MY DAILY ASK) 

OMG I RENTED A POWERBANK AND ACCIDENTALLY BROUGHT IT BACK WITH ME… ITS NEARLY 12AM HERE SO I NEED TO GO BACK TMRW (im gonna get charged about like $40 SOMEONE SHOOT ME OMFG) AT LEAST I GET AN EXCUSE TO GO TO THE MALL TMRW THO?? 

ALSOOO I FOUND A STORE HIRING NEAR MY SCHOOLLLL I RLLY WANT TO GET A PART TIME SO I MIGHTTT CONSIDER IT BUT THEN I WOULD NEED TO FIND THE TIME TO ACTUALLY COMMIT IF I DO WANT TO PURSUE ITTTT

OMGROIGOJIOJIR REMEMBER HOW I MENTIONED I WRITE IN MY SLEEP?? TURNS OUT THAT LIKE A WEEK AGO.. I FELL ASLEEP WHILE DOING HOMEWORK AND STARTED WRITING ABOUT MY RACE IN MY SLEEP.. AND I DIDNT BOTHER TO CHECK IT WHEN I WOKE UP ON MY DESK IN THE MORNING SO I TURNED THAT SHIT IN WITHOUT NOTICING I RANTED ABOUT MY FUCKING RACE ON MY ASSIGNMENT…. MY TEACHER WAS SO FUCKING CONFUSED ON WHY I STATED I WASN’T WHITE ON MY PAPER AND TOLD ME THAT THEY THOUGHT I MIGHT OF BEEN HAVING PROBLEMS MENTALLY… THE FACT I HAD TO ADMIT IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS SLEEP WRITING??? IM GONNA END IT PLEASEEE THATS SO EMBARRASSINMGGGG IT WAS HELLA FUNNY THO.. I WOULD POST THE PICTUJRE BUT I CANT </3 CUS OF ANON *sighs* 

ITSSS SJAPP WEEKENDDDDDD IM SO EXCITED ITLL BE 5AM WHERE I LIVE SO THAT MEANS I GET TO WAKE UP TO A NEW CHAPTERRRR

SPOILER WARNING FOR JOKER 2 ‼️‼️

.

.

.

.

Okay I was a HUGE fan of the first movie which was why I was excited to see the second one with my friends but honestly… IT WAS SO ASSSSS

First, I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS GONNA BE A MUSICAL like I don’t mind musicals, they can be BANGERS and the first few songs were good BUT as the film progressed the songs just felt so unnecessary and awkward👿😭

UGHHHH OMFGGGG IM SOOOOO PISSED ABGT HOW DIRTY THEY DID MISS QUINN IN THE SEQUEL!!!! I LOVE HARLEY QUINN AND GAGA BUT LIKE HER BACKSTORY IN THIS MOVIE AND HER WHOLE PERSONALITY IS NOT ITTTTTT PLUSSS GAGA I LOVE UR VOICE BUT OMFGG I SWEAR THE SINGING WAS TOOOOO EXCESSIVE ARNTRJNSR THEY DID HER SOO DIRTYY.. GAGA WAS ROBBED.. SHE COULD HAVE BEEN SOOOO MUCH MORE BUT HER CHARACTER WAS JUST.. BLEH..

HONESTLY IF YOU TOOK OUT ALL THE MUSICAL FACTORS THEN THE MOVIE WOULD FEEL LIKE A 2HR LECTURE… AND THE RUN TIME??? TWO HRS IS INSANE FOR SUCH A PLOT 

THERE WERE NO PLANS OF A SEQUEL AND THEY SHOULD OF KEPTTT IT THAT WAYYY OMGGG THIS WAS SUCH AN OBVIOUS CASHGRAB.. THE FIRST ONE CLEARLY HAD PASSION, THIS ONE WAS JUST FOR MONEY THERES A REASON WHY THE RATING IS SO LOWWWWWW

STILL THO, THE MOVIE HAD GOOD SCENES AND ALL THE ACTORS HAD THEIR MOMENTS  .

.

. OKKKK HOPE YOU HAVE A VERY SIGMA NIGHT!!! SWEET DREAMS I LOVE YOU DAWG 💪🔥

- 🐺

HI ALPHA!!🐺

responding to ur most recent ask sent on saturday night hello‼️‼️‼️

IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU HAD FUN WITH UR FRIENDS!!! im glad🙂‍↕️ hanging out with ur friends always makes life better even if its for that moment it’s still very much worth it <33 HOORAY FOR REASONABLE SPENDING🎉🎉 u are stronger than me alpha.. sephora and i are in a current battle and i fear she’s winning😰

WORK THIS WEEK HAS BEEN SO GOOD!! i worked 4 days in a row all either opening or closing (or both) but they were all good shifts! i’m just very exhausted from this week though like mentally and physically😭 i slept most of the day away yesterday and im just trying to rest up again today because my throat is actually getting worse which KMS.

NO LMFAO UR FINE!! if u do happen to reveal urself don’t worry i’ll keep it a secret 🤫🤫🤐 WHAT? $40 OH MU GOD what the fuck that is SO EXPENSIVE TO RETURN IT i would just keep it at that point.. but atleast it’s another excuse to go to da mall🤗🙂‍↕️ YIPEE! oooo job searching! that’s exciting. though part time is a big commitment just bc you can’t change ur hours once it’s set in place but if you want to apply for it then i say go for it!! as long as u have the time for it 100%!!

OH MY GOD😭😭 NOT ON THE HOMEWORK TOO PLS that actually made me giggle please. don’t worry abt it though i’ve seen worse!! sleep writing is a talent that u should not be embarrassed abt, you’re good‼️🙂‍↕️

IVE HEARD SO MANY BAD REVIEWS ABOUT THE MOVIE LIKE the fact that they break out into song randomly etc😭 i wanted to watch it but the reviews are making me rethink spending $15 on a movie ticket… ill probably not watch it and watch the substance instead (apparently that’s fucked) BUT ILL LYK!!!

THANK YOU ALPHA!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A VERY SIGMA DAY‼️ ILY🫵🫂

[a-complex-joke]

The Angel and The Assassin Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

I thought that was the last time I'd see her, I mean I wasn't planning on seeing her in the first place, but I still saved her number on my phone. I continued to work but felt so unfocused, it bothered me that one girl could throw me off so much.

My target that night was eliminated, some rich guy, I don't really remember. That's when it started to rain, I walked back to my apartment soaking wet when I heard someone yell out "Ash" I looked in that direction and saw Amelia, but she wasn't alone there was a guy in front of her and another behind her.

"Hey, What's going on here!" I yelled at them, and they looked at me,

"Nothing man is just escorting this little lady home, so how about you scatter off before somebody gets hurt?" the one in front turned pulling a knife out. "Amelia are you ok," I said to her not giving him a second glance, she laughed slightly

"a little roughed up but could be worse," even now as she is scared for her life, she still tries to make jokes.

"Listen, man, I tried to warn you," the first guy said, going in for a jab with the knife, but stopped staring down the barrel of my gun. "Now how's this, give me the girl and I won't pull the trigger." but They didn't, two bullets later and I was carrying Amelia on my back to my apartment.

"You don't have to carry me, I can walk," she said, trying to convince me.

"I told you it's fine plus I need to work on my weight lifting" I joked with her,

"You smiled! it the first time you've smiled," she said ecstatic,

"I smile just not often," I said.

she laughed, "you should smile more if it works on you".

"So what were you doing around here?" I asked.

"Definitely not trying to find where you live," she answered coyly.

"You really shouldn't get involved with me, You're just a kid"

"Im 17, and I can handle myself fine, thank you very much"

We got back to my apartment not long after, I let her shower, then took mine, when I was dried and dressed I came out to see her staring out the big window at the rain.

she wore some of my old boxers and a large t-shirt, seeing as her clothing was soaked and currently in the dryer." it's coming down now, huh" I say, spooking her. "oh yeah I was just thinking about how I'm going to keep myself dry on my way back to the hotel" she laughed nervously.

"back to the hotel? not in this weather. stay here for the night. I've got one of those couch beds so it's not like I'll be sleeping on some uncomfy couch" I said to her. She sighed looking at me. "you've saved me two times and now you're letting me stay at your place for the night, to say I feel guilty would not fully show my feelings" she laughed a bit upset sounding. "meh it nothing much, id just feel guilty if you were out in the rain more than anything" we sat there quiet for a while "so those guys give you those bruises" I asked "some of them, others are just from banging myself on things, and then anytime my family sees me I might get hit a bit" she said looking down on them.

"your family... you mentioned you not living with them before why did you run away?" She sat there and thought about you for a long time. "one of my brothers has serious anger issues and one day tried to choke me out and my parent literally watching him do it and I had marks on my neck, but they took his side and said I was overreacting, so I packed my bags and left, They live in this town so we run into each other and they're mad that I left so they don't have there little slave" she rolled her eyes.

"Ahh the classic oldest child is only an adult without any of the powerful mindset, so just a maid pretty much," I said.

She laughed "Yup I raised your kids and risked my health and you repay me like this" she half-joked, leaning on me. "Your place is nice, this big window, the bathroom. And the whole aesthetics of it. Feels homey" She just kind of stared up at me, for the first time since we met it seemed like she had no clue what to say.

"You know this totally like one of those badly written lemon fanfics, "i'm in your boxers and the whole there's only one bed trope" she said trying to cut through the awkward silence.

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"Well Lemon is usually meaning smut, the boxers thing is just a common thing the female character ends up wearing for pajamas due to not have any of their own clothes, and the only one bed trope is a way to force the two characters to be close which eventually results in the two confessing their feeling and some time sleeping together in the sexual way"

"Are you saying you want that to happen?"

"What no! I'm just saying if we were two fictional story characters this would be the time when the like 12 year old author would do the forced proximity thing" she said growing red faced.

I laughed.

"Well what would you have said if I said I did want that to happen huh?" she said, getting up in my face.

"Id, say... your way in over your head hun" I pushed her back.

"Fair, so what do we do now, it not even close to a reasonable time to sleep"

"Oh well. I usually just watch tv till I get tired so i guess we could do that"

So we did, episodes after episode of those police and firefighter shows, cuddled up till she fell asleep.

I carried her over to my bed and tucked her in but even half asleep she forced me to craw into bed with her, cuddling up to me.

It didn't feel wrong, it was nice to be snuggled up to someone like that.

The next morning she was gone, left a note saying she had to be at work early. Took her clothes and even started a new load of laundry for me.

I think that's when I knew she'd be a constant part of my life.

[sailing-forth]

ok i have. So much to say about this. i’m not sure if any of this will be helpful bc my case was quite different to yours and i’m also neurodivergent in a way that’s Way way different than you so please take caution…..

start with a compliment. i naturally do find people beautiful in all aspects and i give good compliments. usually things that they can control — the clothes they wear, the accessories they own, their skill at a specific thing. etc

alternatively, ask about something that you thought was interesting/you had questions about. extrapolate from there. i made friends w a college student after i asked her about her latin camp t shirt!

ask about compliment. extrapolate. if its on appearance, ask about beauty products/where u bought it from, etc. if its about an achievement, ask about that. if its related to an ec, ask about that.

if its something u find pretty on their person, ask about that community. i made a good friend who was in the same art class as me by complimenting their miku headphones lol

commiserate. or make a joke at your own expense. it is the single ticket to becoming fast friends with someone. oh school is so exhausting. it feels like the days stretch on forever theres too much to do etc . they r probably going to open up more at that.

ask about their own life. their own struggles. probably theyll tell u more about their own ecs etc and then ask about what they find interesting etc. find things u have in common w them and then talk about them!!!!

ask about their own lives!!! if you know theyre good at something, ask about that. everyone likes to be flattered a little. talk to them about the things theyre good at - everyone likes to feel like they’re wanted.

THIS IS IMPORTANT. act as if u fucking belong. whenever im talking to someone the one thought running on loop thru my brain is that oh god they dont want me here i should leave why did i come here. no. that is not true. hold your head up high and act like you belong. you are not being invasive

one principle i use a lot is “talk about nothing of substance” which means in the initial stages of getting to know someone be casually self depreciating but not like. revealing any of your real insecurities. Lie basically

group chats!!! a good way to get to know people fast and make plans. try to ask who they hang out with and see if u can get to know those people better.

be kind to yourself! if someone says something bad about you that’s a reflection of *their* character, not yours. not everyone you meet will be meant for you and that’s Fine. the important thing is to be careful. it’s ok to make mistakes too it’s a part of learning and growing. this sounds like cliche advice but its true!!! i believe in you and i wish you all the luck. i hope this helped!

duyckyuckgo dot cawm ghow 2 not be sososo scared

[falcqns]

Aurorra

Pairing: Dad!Henry Cavill x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Henry meets his daughter for the first time.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst. Dad!Henry

A/N: I don't know why I'm a sucker for these types of stories but I am. Hope you enjoy!

It's been two years and two days exactly since you and Henry had broken up.

It had been one year, one month, and two weeks exactly since you had given birth to his daughter, the daughter he had no idea existed.

It hadn't been a particularly nasty break up or anything, but both of you were hurting. You both wanted the relationship to work out, and when it didn't, you were both too heartbroken to even remain friends.

You had moved away from London not long after the breakup, deciding to live in Manchester, which was closer to your family. When you found out you were pregnant, you had tried to call him, but he had blocked your number. You had no way of contacting him other than through instagram, but he had unfollowed you and you knew your message would get lost in the thousands he received a day if you tried that.

You had no way of contacting his family either. You didn't know what to do. You had told your family, and they were insanely happy for you, even though you were going to be a single mother. When your mom had sat down and told you her and your father would do anything to help and support you through whatever decision you made, you knew the answer.

You were going to be a single mother.

When your daughter Aurorra Enola Cavill was born nine months later, you knew you made the right choice. Being a single mother may not have been what you were planning in life, but holding your blue eyed and brown curly haired baby in your arms for the first time, you knew it was what you were meant to do.

Aurorra had become your little bestie. She was such a well behaved baby. She rarely cried, slept through the night not long after she turned a week old, and was always full of smiles that were clearly from her father. There was never any doubt in your mind that she was Henry's, and every time you looked at her and saw her blue eyes, brown hair, and her cuddly chunky body, it only solidified that fact.

Aurorra had just turned 13 months old, and your job transferred you back to London, so you and Aurorra had just made the big move back.

You had opted to move back to the same neighbourhood both because of the safety of it, and because you knew you'd have a good chance of running into Henry. You had thought about it for months on end, and knew he couldn't be kept in the dark any more.

You had just finished unpacking the last box in the bedroom, when Aurorra woke up from her afternoon nap. You changed her and the two of you headed out to ASDA to get some groceries.

You pulled in the driveway and saw car that looked similar to Henry's BMW, but you didn't think anything of it. You parked and got a less than happy Aurorra out of her carseat and strapped her into the cart before heading on your shopping journey.

You had made it through the fruits and vegetables, and was heading to the freezer section to grab frozen fruit for the growing 13 month old, when you saw a familiar back in the same aisle.

It was Henry. There was no doubt about that. He was wearing a white knitted cardigan, with faded blue jeans, and running shoes. From the top of his cardigan you saw a dark blue t shirt poking out. His hair was slightly messy, but still curly. He was reading the nutrition information on the back of a frozen energy bowl, and you quietly opened the fridge, hoping to grab what you needed from this aisle and escape without him noticing you.

You had gone over seeing him again a million times in your head, and in no way did you plan on it being in the grocery store with other people around.

But, 13 month olds have a mind of their own. At that moment, Aurorra saw a popsicle package with the characters from her favourite show, Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, and proceeded to squeal and call your attention.

"Mama!" She squealed and pointed a chunky hand at the popsicles. "Bug!" You glanced up and Henry and watched as he did a double take back at you. His eye brow furrowed, but you ignored him, instead turning to your baby.

"Yes, that is Ladybug. Would you like them?" You asked, and she nodded eagerly. You smiled and grabbed them out of the freezer once you noticed they were organic. "Say thank you," You prompted, and she brought the same chunky hand up to her chin and then down flat towards you. It wasn't the most perfect sign, but she was still learning.

You saw Henry walk up to you and had to steel yourself for the coming conversation. "Y/N?" He asked, and you turned around to face him.

"Hi, Henry." You said, placing the popsicles in the cart with the rest of your groceries. He smiled at you, and then glanced at Aurorra. She smiled and cooed at him and he smiled back, and stroked her cheek. "Hows everything," you asked, trying to avoid the question you knew was about to come.

"Everything's good. Kal misses you. Still sleeps with the teddy you got him," He said, his eyes locked on your daughter. You smiled.

"Well, tell him I miss him too. Now, if you'll excuse me, we're running a little late. I have to get home and get her fed." You said, but before you could move the cart Henry asked you the question.

"I-is she mine?" He asked, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump that had been forming in your throat, to no avail.

"Y-Yes." You stuttered, and seconds later, Henry's arms enveloped you. "I-Im sorry," You whimpered, and Henry shushed you.

"Its okay. Let's not talk about it here. How about I meet you at your place once were both done?" He suggested, and you agreed, before giving him your address.

"Okay. I'll see you there." he said, giving you another hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of Aurorra's hand that had curled around his pointer finger. He stroked her cheek once more, before giving you both a smile, and heading off. He grabbed his cart with groceries, and made his way towards the checkout.

By the time you had finished shopping and made it home, Henry was parked in the driveway. You took a deep breath, and got out, giving him a smile. He returned it, and got out of his car before walking over to help you.

He grabbed the groceries, leaving you to grab Aurorra, who squealed at the sight of Henry. Henry chuckled, and blew her a kiss. He followed the two of you inside. You set Aurorra down, who stumbled on her own feet before stabilizing, her empty bottle in the right hand.

"Go put your baba in the kitchen please," You said, and she babbled to herself as she walked off, ignoring you and Henry.

"She's absolutely adorable," Henry said, and you smiled. "Well, she is your daughter," You said. Henry threw his head back and laughed before following you into the kitchen.

You set the bags down on the ground and turned to put away the ones Henry set on the counter. You two made small talk while putting away the groceries, mainly about work. You heard ruffling behind you but didn't think anything of it, as Aurorra usually liked to help put away the soup cans.

"Mama?" You heard a little voice ask and you turned around to face Aurorra. She was holding the box of popsicles out to you in one hand, while her other hand made a clockwise motion on her chest, signing please.

You smiled and took the box from her.

"After dinner, okay?" You said, and she didn't like that very much. She plopped on her butt and began to cry.

Her arms reached up to where the popsicles were and sobbed her little heart out. Henry's heart melted and scooped her up. "It's okay baby girl," He said, bouncing her. She sniffled, but calmed down and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled in happiness, and pressed a kiss to her curly head.

He turned to you. "I just realized, I don't know her name," he said, and you smacked your head.

"Shit sorry, I completely forgot to mention that. Her names Aurorra Enola Cavill. I made sure she got your last name, and that you're on the birth certificate." You said, running your hands through her curly hair.

"Enola? Like Enola Holmes?" He asked, as Aurorra cuddled closer, her chunky arms wrapping around his neck. You nodded.

"Yeah. I couldn't think of a middle name for her, and I was watching Enola Holmes just before she was born. It was the scene where Sherlock and Mycroft see Enola on the train platform and you say her name. I knew then it was perfect." You said, and Henry smiled.

"It's a beautiful name," he said, wrapping his free arm around you. The three of you stood there for a few minutes, before Aurorra shook her hands at you, and tried to wiggle out of Henry's arms.

"Ah dun, Mama." She said. Henry pressed a kiss to her chunky cheek, and let her onto the floor. She scurried away seconds later, towards her bedroom.

"Is she okay wandering by herself?" He asked, watching her little body fall to her hands and knees, but get up and brush it off before continuing on her mission.

"Yeah she'll be fine. She's just going to play." You said, and Henry nodded before pulling you into his arms fully.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you about her. I couldn't contact you or anyone in your family, and I didn't have the energy during my pregnancy or after to make the journey to London. I promise I didn't plan on hiding her forever." You said, and Henry squeezed you even tighter.

"It's okay. I know you'd never do something like that on purpose. You've done an amazing job raising her. I just wish I had witnessed it."

"You'll get to see her grow. You might have missed her start life, but I have everything recorded. Her first breath, her first steps, her first words, all of it. I know it's not the sam-" You said, but were cut off by his lips.

His hand travelled up to cup your face, before he pulled away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just- You amaze me, you know that?" He said and you giggled.

"How so?" You questioned.

He rested his forehead on yours before continuing. "You thought to record everything. You made sure she has my last name and that I'm on the birth certificate. You didn't have to do that, but you did. I've missed you so much, and I didn't know just how much until I saw you in ASDA. I never should have left. I never should have blocked you." He said, a tear falling from his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. Thats never what I wanted. But, I promise to be the best dad to her, whether we're together or not."

"I know you will be," You said, and pulled Henry in for another kiss.

The groceries were put away a few minutes later and you told Henry to go and play with Aurorra while you cooked, which he happily did.

He walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and smiled lovingly when he saw his daughter sitting on the ground playing with blocks, a stuffed Akita just like Kal secure under her arm. She was babbling to a Mickey Mouse toy that sat in the corner of the room, and was stacking blocks.

Henry began to walk in the room when she stopped babbling let out a sneeze and a sigh. He grabbed a Kleenex from the change table and sat down next to her.

"Hey sweetheart, can I wipe your nose?" Henry asked, seeing the snot coming from her nose due to the sneeze. She looked up at him and giggled, which Henry took as a yes, and he wiped her nose quickly before disposing of it in the garbage can.

She began babbling again, and pushed the Akita stuffy into his hands. "Goggy," She said, and clapped, which made Henry smile.

"It is a doggy. I have a doggy like your stuffy, wanna see?" He asked, and she nodded and clapped.

Henry pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of Kal. Aurorra stood up and clambered into his lap, which Henry welcomed. When she saw the picture of Kal, she started bouncing and clapping again.

"Goggy! Goggy wun!" She exclaimed when he showed her a video of him running.

"Thats right, he is running. He's really good at it too, believe me." Henry said and put his phone away. Aurorra stood up and reached out her arm for him, opening and closing her fist. Henry stood up, and let her take his big hand in her tiny one, and lead him out of the room, and towards the back door that led to the backyard, babbling the entire way.

"Hold on, honey, we gotta tell Mama we're going outside, okay?" He said and she nodded before running to the kitchen shouting Mama.

Henry watched as she stood in the doorway and babbled before pointing at the door. She held her hand in front of her face and moved it out, closing it into a fist.

"You're going outside?" You asked, and she nodded. Henry saw you bend down and whisper something into her ear with a smile on your face and Aurorra giggle but didn't think much of it, before his little girl was running towards him and squealing.

He scooped her up and carried her out the door. She pointed at the toy box in the corner of the yard and Henry carried her over. He sat her down and opened it, before letting her pick what she wanted to play with. She grabbed a bucket with shovels and molds before running over to the lady bug sandbox and patting the lid. Henry chuckled and pulled the lid off.

"You wanna play in the sand?" He asked, and she nodded before climbing in.

Henry sat down next to her, and a shovel was thrust into his hand seconds later. She had a bright yellow one in her own hand and was digging a hole. Henry followed suit and helped her dig the hole.

A few minutes later she handed Henry a elephant mold.

"Put, Dada." She said, and Henry's breath caught in his throat, the mold falling from his hand.

"Did you say Dada?" He asked her, tears clouding his vision, and he saw her smile and point at the house.

"Mama, say." she said, picking up the elephant mold again.

"Mama told you I'm your Dada?"

She nodded and shook the mold in his face, practically begging him to take it. Henry smiled and pulled her out of the sand box, into his arms.

"I am your Dada, and I promise you I will love you forever." He said, and kissed her cheeks. She giggled before pointing at the sand box and doing grabby hands. Henry chuckled but put her back where she was. He picked up the mold and began to fill it with sand before she got upset.

"I apologize for interrupting your playtime," He said. "Now, lets make some animals."

Later that night, when Aurorra had been fed and put to bed, Henry pressed another kiss to your lips.

"She called me Dada when we were playing outside." He confessed and your eyes lit up.

"Really? I told her before she went out with you that you were her Dada, I wasn't expecting her to say it so soon!" You exclaimed. Henry chuckled, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm so happy she did. Thank you for giving me her." He said, pressing his lips to yours before you could respond.

[lilliths-not-just-httyd-blog]

Hi I have an odd question I’ve recently decided to get back into my old personal Viggo lives comic: “Beyond the Horizon” after seeing/reading other’s rtte art, theories, fics, and head canons on it (tbh your VLAU fic was definitely the kicker that made me want to get back into my comic) but I don’t want to seem like I’m copying or stealing ideas so I was wondering if you had any alternate names for Viggo’s Skrill (also some writing tips would be very helpful since I’m very rusty ;-;)

i mean

this is how i named viggo's skrill to begin with. just a random fucking chapter of a fic i started in early 2022 and abandoned until recently. i justified my choice of name because this bitch from black butler is also called beast and i think she's hot

in VLAU that story viggo referenced liking as a child about the boy with the magic eye was a reference to black butler i shit you not. i don't even like black butler anymore i haven't watched it in years and don't plan on watching it again any time soon.

i find using the Wings of Fire format of names really helps when naming dragons. lets look at the character names in WoF: Clay, Sunny, Starflight, Tsunami, Glory, Moonwatcher, Kinkajou, Deathbringer, Winter, Peril, Quibli and Turtle are some of the significant ones. go for something weather/sky/space themed for a skrill. just like that. combine weirder shit for the viking feel like hookfang or stormfly. but then you've also got like skullcrusher and cloudjumper so it's good. and then just words like barf, belch, toothless and grump so that works. steal the name Thunder from NR out of spite.

you can also search for old norse words that we're aware of and just find one that sounds like a name with a nice meaning if you want to be fancy and preppy.

another way i like to do it is steal species names from the httyd books like i'll just open up my copy of the incomplete book of dragons until i find something nice like... stickyworm? no... vorpent? no... toxic nightshade... NIGHTSHADE that would be a good name for a skrill you can use that if you want. doomfang seems like more of a dagur name than a viggo name but thats still a bangin skrill name.

and uhhh writing tips uhhhhh. i mean i don't got nothing tbh. be as self indulgent as you want. not everything has to live up to the standards of Scholars Mate and Choosing to Forget not everything has to be that good. my VLAU is genuinely just 17+(?) chapters of fluff and angst and vigcup being adorable and its just me projecting a bunch of my stupid little OOC headcanons onto my stupid little adhd blorbos. my other fics were either me being angsty, me listening a little too much to the httyd soundtrack, me just fucking daydreaming about random shit, or me going HAHAHAHAHAHA LETS MAKE VIGGO'S LIFE A LIVING HEL. i find inspiration from the most random shit. i took a bath once and when i hopped in my cold little toes burned like fire in the hot water and then i tried this coconut shampoo and now i have an entire WIP based on that one experience. there's no fancy thought or writing process behind it there's no "first drafts" (probably cuz i edit as i go lmao) there's no immaculate planning every little detail of the fic. it's just little magpie me going "oh shiny oh shiny oh shiny oh shiny" and then making a mosaic out of all the shitty pieces of glass i've found and somehow a couple people find the mosaic pretty so i am proud because i worked hard on it. and lemme tell you, writing self indulgent fanfiction where im not trying to please anyone except myself is so much fun like i've literally written about viggo being the twin's cousin and i literally made viggo a soft poetry boi and its just fun. i know some people aren't into that or aren't interested and thats fine they don t have to read it. write for yourself you don't even have to be good at it just do it who cares. thats the best advice i can give. just do whatever the fuck you fucking want

[stanknotstark]

Commanding Loki (just kind of happens)

Summary: You’re not really sure how it happens but you begin commanding Loki, the God of Mischief, around. To everyone’s shock, he happily obliges to your commands. 

The first time you do it in front of the Avengers they all kind of stop in shock.

"Loki, get me a soda before you sit down." You told rather than asked the God.

You were too busy looking at a tablet Tony had lent you to see him stop in his tracks. He glared at the Avengers looking at him, ready to attack him as if he was thinking about attacking you for giving him an order. They weren't wrong but only because you did it in front of everyone. Probably.

He got you a soda and sits next to you, rolling his eyes at your nonchalant thanks. 

The next time it happened was kind of a life or death situation.

"Loki, leave the room right now and calm yourself," You checked Thor's pulse through the gushing blood which made him slippery as an eel, "You either calm yourself and I’ll let you back in or you can sit out there like a petulant child. Go."

Natasha looked at you as if you were crazy, her hands pressing a t-shirt to Thor’s wound tightly. Loki heeded her no mind though and did as you told him.

He was welcomed back within 15 minutes.

Next, you do it more to push boundaries because Natasha had a conversation with you after Thor's fiasco. She's finds it quite funny that he obeys you like it's second nature but if anyone else dared do it he wouldn't hesitate to threaten their life. Trust me, Tony had wanted to test his boundaries and tried to do it too. Needless to say, Tony wouldn't be doing it again any time soon, he was still pissy some very expensive pieces of furniture got destroyed.

So one day while you and Loki are hanging out with Natasha, like you all consistently do because you three enjoy silence but companionship at the same time. You look across at Nat and grin, making sure Loki doesn't see it and commence your plan.

"Loki," Loki looks up from his book on midguardian foods newly introduced from 1996 to 2010, a questioning frown on his face, "Pass me the remote."

It's simple enough, nothing too strenuous. Yet.

"You have two perfectly functioning arms." Loki mutters but grabs the remote and gives it to you. You give him a genuine smile and you can see he has gone soft in the eyes before he looks at his book again. 

You glance at Nat with raised brows, she looks away with a smirk as you turn on the TV. Flicking through channels you finally settle on reruns of Stranger Things. Natasha gets interested and you kind of watch but mostly you're thinking about commanding Loki to do something else but what? Loki keeps looking at his book but you see him glancing up often to watch the show too.

"Hey, Cowboy," Loki growls at the name, it had come up when Thor told you he used to call him a cow for his horns, "Don’t sit like that you'll get scoliosis....if a God can get that." Loki who had slouched forwards blinked at you and sat up straight in shock from the bad posture. When you see him glower at the TV you smile, he's probably cursing midguardians for ruining his good posture.

"Thanks." You whisper.

Loki hums carelessly and puts his book down to instead watch the show. Natasha coughs into her hand (a hidden laugh, you knew Nat too well), Loki eyes her suspiciously, looks at you, then focuses back on the TV. You force yourself, with great resolve might you add, to not laugh. You let things settle again before you try the ultimate command.

"Ugh." You start, rolling your right shoulder around and poking at it as if it hurts. You're literally about to tell Loki to massage it for you but you’re struck by paralyzing shock. Loki had noticed your 'discomfort' and moved closer to you. Lifting his hands towards your shoulder he stopped and looked at you with a tilted brow, asking consent. 

Aww how sweet.

You nodded and shifted so he had better access to your back. One hand landed between your shoulders on your back and the other pinching the area where your shoulder met your arm and began massaging.

Shocked you let him staring at the TV but not knowing what is going on on the show. Loki and you had touched before so it's not so out in the left field that you're concerned but he was massaging you in front of Natasha. Your thoughts turned to mush as he pushes and pulls your body so he could access all of your back and starts massaging your entire back. You couldn't help the little whimpers and soft moans of delight. Not only was this man a God but he was literally gifted God like hands, unfair!

After letting out another whimper Loki stopped. You felt him shift back to his original spot and so you did too. Glancing at him you saw a hint of flushed cheeks as he stared at the TV distantly. Natasha was outright staring at him with both eyebrows raised to her hairline, it looked like.

Loki cleared his throat and left with an offhand excuse.

Once Loki left the area Natasha's eyes fell onto you. She smirked lecherously but said nothing about what had just happened. Turning her attention back to the show when you shrugged your shoulders, completely flustered. 

She asks, "So like, I don’t doubt Will is going to be found but does Barbara make it?"

You smile and settle into the couch, "You'll find out in a few episodes."

Natasha groans and you laugh. You know she hates not knowing but if she's truly desperate she can look it up on Google or ask Jarvis.

The next time you command him it's another crisis. 

In short, Thor and Loki are arguing, both clearly in a ferocious rage in the kitchen. All the team is there to experience it this time too.

"No, Thor, I cannot simply understand why you would defend those inept idiots you call friends. If you think they're in the right you’re more brainless than I thought!" Loki yells at Thor who now looks like a kicked puppy and your motherly instincts kick in.

"Hey!" Loki looks at you shocked, this is the highest he's ever heard your voice, and probably the angriest too because you just don’t get mad. You have the patience of a Buddha God, Tony likes to say. 

"You apologize to him right now, then you will listen to what your brother has say, and if you interrupt him I will show you just how minuscule a God can be to a non believer."

The entire kitchen is silent. Tony looks like he wants to flee the area, he's been on your angry side once before. Steve is practically engraving the table with his eyes. Natasha shrugs and continues eating her meal, the utensils clipping the plate the only noise in the room.

Loki looks at Thor and raises a brow. Thor, still looking at you, swallows and begins to talk, focusing on his brother again. 

"Im trying to learn but I don’t know how to stay neutral between your feelings and my friend's-"

Loki opens his mouth but slams it shut when you snap your fingers.

"-i do not want to offend anyone but every choice i make I offend you and I’m sorry brother, I truly am. What can I do to amend things between us?"

Loki glances at you to see if he may talk now. At your nod he says, "Start by supporting your brother sometimes. I don't ask that you stand behind every argument between your friends and I but you never fail to support them, it seems. You can't please everybody Thor, and you can't stay neutral forever, at some point you have to realize that you have to pick a side and who's side."

Thor has lost to kicked puppy look but he now frowns and nods, staring at the floor with guilt. Loki's hand comes up, hesitates, then he places it on Thor's arm for a second and swiftly leaves.

When no one moves for a few seconds you clear your throat and they all go back to whatever they were doing before the argument escalated out of proportion, you included.

You realize you may have tiptoed the line of being fair with that last command so you let it rest for awhile, give Loki some space. He of course notices your avoidance because Tony had asked you what was up between you both, stating that the God had asked him if anything was bothering you. Usually Loki came to you with his concerns, not being the type of person to talk behind someone’s back. 

You sigh and tell Tony you’re fine, that you’ll talk to him. So you head out from Tony’s lab and search for Loki. He isn’t in the living room, kitchen, or even his own bedroom. You remember him once stating that he likes read on the roof sometimes, Tony had build Loki a garden up on the roof at one point since Loki clearly missed the garden from home, Asgard. A small gesture but a true turning point for both Tony and Loki’s relationship you think. 

Walking out on the roof you don’t see Loki in the garden so you murmur a few expletives and make your way back to the door when a voice calls out your name. You follow the sound and find Loki hidden on a corner of the roof, sitting on the edge of the building. 

Walking up behind him you ask, “Can we talk?”

“You’ve never asked before, don’t see why you’d start now.” Loki says, no contempt in his voice though, it’s just very...neutral. 

You force out a small laugh, hearing your own tenseness in it, “Ya, about that..”

You sit next to Loki letting your legs dangle over the ledge like Loki does now. His legs kick every once in awhile giving him an almost childlike appearance. 

“First off, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Loki looks at you.

“I was out of line the other day with you and Thor. Not just then I’ve been, well, commanding you to do things for me and that’s...it’s not...right?” You finish lamely, your face a big grimace but you look Loki in the eyes when you apologize.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” Loki says with mirth lingering in his words. 

“Well, ya, is there some other reason I should have?” You squint at him suspiciously.

“No.”

Loki looks at you with an innocent look on his face, which you know is pure bullshit, but you let it slide. Shaking your head with a smile you then look out across the open skyline below you. 

“Apology accepted.” Loki says after some time has past. Your shoulders, which had tensed involuntarily, now relax. 

You don’t react, well more like force yourself not to, when you feel Loki’s hand come to rest atop yours which had been supporting you on the ledge. Loki lets his hand rest there before he gets more confident and intertwines both of your fingers. You smile, finally looking at Loki who is already staring at you brazenly. 

“Kiss me.” 

“What?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Loki smirks then leans in, his left hand coming to cradle your head at your jaw and kisses you. At first softly, as if testing the waters, then begins to put more passion behind it as you lean into him. His tongue gently swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him explore. 

If you thought this man had God like hands....

When you’re both breathless you part but keep your faces close together. Your eyes roam over his face, noting how young he looks right now, how vulnerable, and bite your lip. Loki’s eyes drop to your lips and uses a thumb to pull your lip from your teeth lest you bruise them more. “Don’t bite them, it is my job to bruise them.” Loki says breathlessly. 

Much later, when it’s dark out, you both come back into the tower and make your way to the living room. The first person you see is Natasha who, legit, smiles at the look of you two. Tony who notices Nat smiling looks where she’s looking and whistles at the two of you who decide to share a love seat. 

“Shut up.” You command the two of them. 

You were sure the both of you made a pretty funny picture. Your hair was most likely tousled, too much so to just be from the wind, and Loki’s lips were nearly purple with bruising so no doubt yours were any less. Not to mention the both of you were too incredibly happy, which ya you being happy is normal but it was almost an alarming amount of giddiness and Loki doesn’t normally show his emotions so openly like this. 

Tony smirks, raises a brow and points the remote at the TV. “Stranger Things?” 

You, very much flustered, clear your throat and say yes. 

[jinkicake]

😒😒😒yeah scaramouche has breached the top 10 like I can’t keep seeing these edits and tan art of him in so much anguish and then looking hot saying shit like “ that’s okay, because I’ll make you dumber and dumber until the only thing you can scream is my name” HELLO??? This is a targeted attack on ME personally bc all the hot cosplayers are doing scaramouche thirst traps 😭and my poor heart can’t take being torn in two directions 😔 like on one hand he’s so emotionally stunted and mean that my absolute lack of being serious in any situation would catch him off guard. Like yeah your yelling and ranting about how the other harbingers are stupid but if I kiss you until you can’t breathe and say you look hot what then🤨🎤like he can try and be all yandere but once again I’m gon be into it idk what to tell him! Like I’m mean right back to and I’ll alphabetically list out his mommy issues while not even looking up from what I’m doing🙄he’s also feels like the type to silently but súper loudly beg for attention all day “I can’t believe how cold this bed feels right now👀👀👀👀” like the type to grab your hand and drag you places bc he wants to hold your hand but he can’t let anyone see that he needs human affection 💀 I am all here for spoiled brat scara era like you can’t convince me that he wouldn’t in ei’s room like right after snatching up the gnosis ( nothing but respect for MY electro archon🥰) and fuck you on whatever throne she has in there, in every surface possible bet if he had planned this before hand he would have found a way to do it on the ceiling too. Oh and he’s making sure everyone hears it, it’s usually raining and thundering? Yeah it’s dead quiet everyone is nervous they did something to piss the shogun off bc only the wind in the trees is what they can hear. Rip to whoever lives near that tho bc they hear nothing but the most desperate melodic screams coming from there and skin hitting skin like Rest In Peace fr bc for the next 12 hours that’s their life. Ruler of eternity bc that’s how long he’s gunna fuck you😔😔 there is definitely no mistake of what’s happening when they just hear screams of his name. Like he’s such a petty “ lmao if your a clown I’m the ringmaster” type bitch he wouldn’t care she can hear that shit from inside of her shogun puppet. If your lucky the gods might even bestow a vision in you for enduring that💕 who knows could be an electro one💀 as an “im so sorry you can’t walk anymore” but honestly I would let him, he and Venti are in the same spectrum but he’s the opposite he can “heh pathetic” his way into someone’s pants like childe but less straightforward post redemption arc he’s still the same but he’s traveling around teyvat for the perfect places to fuck you in☺️ like oh this little hidden cave in Liyue looks fine Lmao bc Xiao shows up ready to join in but he talks about it like he’s touring houses “ I think this cave would make your voice bounce off the walls nicely” SHUT UP!!!

not top ten.... come on,,,, we are better than this.... I KNOW WE ARE.

... i deeply enjoy the scara angsty fanart tho,,,, like i cried during that one specific cutscene of the archon quest and after that all of his angst just hit ten times better kekeke

OKAY BUT HEAR ME OUT. him being emotionally stunted and mean MAKES him more appealing?! im sorry that i enjoy a yandere psycho! but youre so right like his desperation for any affection really does dent my yandere!scara agenda bc at the end of the day he will do everything to please you and make you happy bc he never wants you to leave him HAHAHAH like you touch him without warning him and he'll literally turn red in the face and explode,,,, SEE HE IS SO DIFFICULT like i can never pick between cute scara or psycho scara T T

omg this headcannon of archon!scara i- every time you fuck him there would be dangerous thunderstorms LOLLLLLL it's like everyone in inazuma is rolling their eyes and cursing him whenever lightening strikes and thunder claps throughout the air hehehe

0h- i feel like if you got a vision after fucking scara he would pin it to you like a badge of honor.... that would be a physical reminder proving exactly what you are to him.... his toy... his heart... idk- i truly cant decide between making him sappy or mean-

if im fucking scara in a cave and xiao shows up.... that little puppet is getting tossed aside like im kicking his ass out and fucking xiao instead like- THAT is the ONLY option

[darthwheezely]

Georgie Weasley HCS!

This is again, probably the first of many headcanons parts because the twins own mu ass and that’s perfectly fine with me.

Also please watch the video it makes me cry with happy tears-

Warnings: stupidly adorable men named George Fabian Weasley, diabetic level fluff, diet angst, me cussing oops

Let’s be clear: I love this man more than life itself, just because I’m a Fred girl doesn’t mean I don’t simp unhealthily hard for this man ok now I’m done let’s get into it

God, he’s such a soft boy

Like he was the kid growing up that hated seeing lil bugs being stepped on and would make it a priority to save them

“No, even bugs are living things too!” And would cradle them and set them back in the yard, whispering words of encouragement

He would frequently cry to Molly about how worried he was about if they got back to their families or not

At times like these, she was worried for her beautiful son but held him all the same

It’s the way George Weasley loves reading for me

This boy is a bookworm. Period.

He’s read LOTR more times than he’s liked to admit, and he’s read Romeo and Juliet enough times that when the Baz Luhrman movie came out he quite possibly saw it 5 times in a row

Like a movie screening a day. This kid-

That week he screams “part fools you know not what you do” to an unholy extent and Fred almost shanks him like 12 times

He also develops a crush on Claire Danes but that is besides the point

True story anyway-

He is a fantastic cook

No, like for real

If he knows Molly is busy that morning at home and he knows the Burrow is stocked enough with ingredients he can manipulate-

He’s making everyone breakfast

Like regular omelettes? Uh, Chile anyways have you HAD a George Weasley omelette

He hates following recipes too

Swears it “kills his artistic tendencies” but I really think it’s because he stresses over measurements

But that’s what Fred is for :)

His favorite muggle game is Scrabble

He whips literally everyone’s ass at it and has a copy of the Scrabble dictionary on him

“George, what the fuck, ‘aal’ isn’t a real word-“

“WELL LET’s CONSULT THE DICTIONARY HMM-“

He also just starts to make up random words

No one really argues this

So is it cheating?

Nah he just calls it ingenuity sis

Again, this is pretty canon but he has a lot of pent up anger issues

Externally, he keeps his cool light years better than Fred ever will, but internally, he just bottles it all

This is of course why George is considered to be the better beater of the two-

He waits until Quidditch to release all of his anger and stress and pain

Our angel feels resentful of Fred sometimes

He loves him more than anyone on thsi earth, 100%, but Fred doesn’t really understand how much people compare them both and how many people don’t see George as his own person

This leads to being a hyper vigilant Georgie, going above and beyond to craft the best plans

The best jokes

Just wanting to be the best at something

And Fred is there to hype him up constantly along the way, but never really will understand how hard it is for George to cope with his inferiority complex

George gets a bit clingy to his loved ones, afraid they’ll pull away when they realize he’s not Fred

He just needs a bit of reassurance and extra loving :) he deserves every bit of it

George Fabian is a crier

He always has been ever since he was little which led to a very confused Freddie (he’s not a big externally emotional human, in terms of expression like crying)

George is a big empath

He feels virtually everything that his loved ones feel which fills him with a lot of duty to protect

At all costs

George is basically young Arthur, I’m not gonna lie

He’d never say it but George just wants a daughter. Or 10.

To spoil and love and hold

He wants a child of his own to see run around and be crazy with

But also to read to every night and make them feel protected and respected and loved

He wants to be what his dad was and is to him you know?

Also um...babes is kinky

If asked if he’s a, t, or thighs?

Thighs. Every time.

This man is addicted to hips like if you’re dancing at a party and moving your hips?

Good lord he’s such a goner

He’s also packing but yknow

He’s super romantic

Probably the most romantic of any of the Weasley siblings

He’s sucker for old school romanticism and is the most chivalrous little angel

He also probably has a stash of pick up lines and romantic sentences in French or Spanish in his back pocket

Please god I love this man

He has DEFINITELY called you the following:

Darling, my love, my soul, my glorious one, it GOES ON THE MORE ILLUSTRIOUS THE BETTER

Please save me from myself writing this I’m a fred girl but god help me I would die for George Fabian Weasley

His favorite scent is of mornings

Like when you wake up early and you smell dew and grass and sunlight

That’s his favorite scent in the entire world

His favorite dessert is Canary Creams - honestly, he don’t even care about the “side effects” they just taste too damn good

You think I’m joking, Fred legitimately had to take them away from him during testing

“Georgie, stop oh my god we only have so many-“

“P L E A S E I’ll make more later they’re so yummy”

“STOP IT IM SERIOUS”

Basically our angel

And we love him. Period.

[ficrecsbybu]

WinterIron fic rec 2021: Part I

Note: this fic rec consists only of Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark fics. the only Stucky & Stony you might see is as past relationships but that’s it. it’s also complete works ONLY. also - no underage stuff 🔪.  if you have any requests for Winteriron fic recs (for e.g non-superpower au, only one shots, series, hardcore smut, post-tws, college au, not team cap friendly fics, bodyguard au etc.) you can send me requests ^^. anyway... enjoy 😉 

✨ The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchiha

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot. 

Rated M, Hades & Persephone AU, Canon Divergence, always female Tony Stark, not Team Cap friendly. word count: 41391

(note: listen... I know het pairings and/or gender bend is not popular and I never really read those in general BUT this is straight up one of the best fics I have ever read so I NEEDED to share this with y’all...✌️)

✨ Forms of Love by bear_bell

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Rated E, Post-CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Team Iron Man. word count: 33591

✨ Looking at You by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Bucky looks for so long that now all he wants to do is touch and hold and fix everything. But Tony can barely be in the same room as Bucky, cant even look him in the eye. So Bucky doesn't know what to do about Tony, but he is determined to do something. Because all he wants is to look at Tony, and see Tony looking back with a smile.

Rated E, Post-CW, PTSD, team heals, mental healing, forgiveness, angst with a happy ending. word count: 28,168

✨ I'll Be Your Bodyguard (If You'll Be My Security Blanket) by NarutoRox

When one of Loki's pranks gone wrong leaves the team with a young Winter Soldier in their care, they know they're going to have their hands full. Especially since this newer, tinier version of Bucky seems to have a bodyguard complex - and a particular attachment to Tony.

Rated T, kid fic, age regression/de-aging, de-aged Bucky, tiny bodyguard Bucky. word count: 4,993. 

(note: finally something CUTE. Im so sorry for being such a slut for angst and heavy stuff 😅)

✨ Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Rated T, AU - no superpowers, AU - soulmates, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, age difference. word count: 7,032.

✨ Shameless  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

rated M, flirting, dirty talk, sexual tension. word count: 2,560

✨ Winter Wooer by salytierra

Winter may not be the most pleasant guy to live or share your body with, but he isn't nearly as destructive as everybody expected him to be either. He likes to brood in the corners, watch British TV, and freak people out. And Tony. He really, really likes Tony Stark. There's just one problem – Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about the guy.

Rated M, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, team as family. word count: 8,726

✨ Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

rated M (but mild sexual content), parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes recovering, team as family, of love and hobbits 🧝🏻‍♂️. word count: 15,289

✨ Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix 

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

rated T, post-TWS, fluff, humour, getting together, idiots in love. word count: 4,744.

✨ Rise In Perfect Light (Be Not Fearful Of The Night) by RayShippouUchiha

At first, the new element singing in his chest, Tony doesn’t understand what he’s done.

Doesn’t understand the full consequences of his actions.

But, to be fair, there’s no way he really could have.

Not even a futurist like him could have ever seen this coming.

rated G, post-CW, past Stony, angst with a happy ending. word count: 3,589.

(note: this fic is SO BEAUTIFUL. lemme just asjkdjnsjkdm)

✨ and amidst the ruins, there was you by TheKitteh

With everything resolved - post the Berlin conflict, Siberia and the rogue Avengers' return - Tony relishes in the clarity of what the team is now. He can finally see the well-defined lines, he can rely on solid rules and the chain of command. He's settled into his life like never before.

That is, until one day, an unhinged sorcerer with no grasp on his magic shatters that new-found balance.

As a result, half of Tony's soul is now gone, but he's willing to do anything to get it back.

rated T, post-CW, canon divergence, au - Dystopia, Dimension Travel, magical accidents, slow burn, getting together. word count: 36,976

✨ and so we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself.

rated T, CACW canon divergence, getting together, reconciliation, POV alternating, Bucky Barnes recovering. word count: 14,449

✨ Spilt on the Ground like Water by tisfan

Tony has been black-bagged and illegally held at the Raft. Steve has no intentions of going to rescue him.

But the Winter Soldier isn't going to leave him behind.

rated E, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied/referenced torture, frottage, dub-con, mention of part non-con (HYDRA trash party), not Steve friendly, suicidal thoughts, touch-starved. word count: 10,853

✨ Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves) by phlintandsteel

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.

rated E, post-IW au, A/B/O verse, Omega Tony, Alpha Bucky, Soulmates, Peter & Harley playing matchmaker, still recovering Bucky Barnes, not Steve Rogers Friendly, angst with a happy ending. word count: 37,324.

✨ Change You Like A Remix by ficlicious 

No one ever said Avenging would be easy, but Bucky could have really used a memo about the weeks where the hits just didn’t stop coming. He’d probably still have signed his soul away to the gods of spandex and paperwork, but a heads up woulda been nice before he nodded and smiled and took up residence in the house sanity fled when the Avengers moved in.

---- Soulmates, misunderstandings, snark, genderswap and sleep-deprived Avengers abound. Tony's a woman. Must be Friday.

rated E, AU - soulmates, established relationship, temporary gender swap, jealous Bucky Barnes, misunderstanding, miscommunication. word count: 10,494.

✨ Getting to Know You by orbingarrow

It had been an adventure, navigating the sweetly apologetic Bucky Barnes, who haunted the tower most days, and the the Winter Soldier, who occasionally inhabited Barnes’s body. The Winter Soldier was not apologetic; he was scary. And he was currently chilling out, uninvited, in Tony's lab.

“Leave,” Tony said, because Tony was either a dead man or not, and there wasn’t much he could do about it before coffee.

“Or you could give me permission to be here,” the Winter Soldier suggested.

“I don’t let strangers poke around my stuff,” Tony grumbled, as he walked past the Soldier to take a seat at his workbench.

“Easily solved,” the Soldier deflected. “Get to know me.”

-This is what happens when Tony does.

rated G, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are different personalities, fluff, Clint Barton is a good bro. word count: 9,470

✨ Safe House by ali_aliska

For years, Tony had successfully kept his secret. Neither the world nor his team knew he was Iron Man and as far as he was concerned, everyone was better off that way. On his best days, Tony Stark was not someone people liked and trusted, so the last thing Tony wanted was to tarnish Iron Man’s good reputation by revealing the truth.

But then SHIELD falls, the Avengers face disarray, and a stray Hydra assassin forces Tony to go into hiding—and where better than the safe house he had just crafted for the Avengers and their own ex-assassin ready to come in from the cold?

Tony plans to hide away from everyone in his makeshift workshop until the coast is clear and he’s safe to go home. No one would care to spend any time with the reclusive, arrogant billionaire anyways, right? Iron Man is the one everyone wants around.

Bucky Barnes, on his own journey to reclaim his life and identity, seems to disagree with that sentiment.

rated T, post TWS, canon divergence, au - Secret Identity, mutual pining, team as family, slow burn, misunderstandings. word count: 89,533

✨ Versace on the floor by withered

The modern man’s armor is his clothing, and Bucky wants Tony out of his.

rated T,  post CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Separate Personalities, Barnes & Soldier & their hard-on for Tony, not team cap friendly. word count: 2,127