#but learning more made me reach out to athena and briefly to others

[hearthpaw]

i do have to learn about the other gods if im only interested in worshipping hestia? i know some basic stuff about the other gods/goddesses but none of the myths

I personally dont study myths in detail. I find them interesting, but not spiritually game changing. every process is different! Studying other gods may help you to better understand the context Hestia was worshipped in, but you don't have to rush that process.

For me, I worship hestia more in an archetypal sense than literally Greek Goddess Hestia, 1 for 1, as the ancient greeks would have done. like to me she is more of a way to represent the power and emotionality of the Home and hearth, and how it relates into my spiritual/witchy beliefs.

I dont find connecting with myth to make me feel more connected to that sense of belonging and comfort in the home. I also don't find that studying other gods in detail strengthens my connection to the ones I devote to. (sorry if that doesnt make much sense, its abstract and kindof hard to explain for me, as im still figuring out my own beliefs!! )

id say experiment and do what feels right to you, if learning more about the context makes you feel more connected to Hestia, continue to go for it! if it doesnt, skipping out isnt going to like. insult anyone imo. no harm in just learning more about it, even if that knowledge ends up being minimally useful, or you don't continue it very long. good to feel things out for yourself!

[moonlight-frittata]

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500 

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil. 

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??” 

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days. 

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.” 

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said. 

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems. 

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign. 

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand. 

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed. 

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor. 

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand. 

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.  

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day. 

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.” 

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips. 

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement. 

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon. 

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor. 

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again. 

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior. 

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to  fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you. 

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to. 

Remember this! 

Oh how is so and so?  

Damn, that was 5 years ago already? 

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself. 

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding. 

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar. 

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm. 

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.” 

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove. 

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair. 

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners. 

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar. 

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone. 

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it. 

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment. 

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software. 

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?” 

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.” 

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence. 

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused. 

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known? 

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?” 

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips. 

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It’s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone. 

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am. 

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean. 

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

[solangelover]

A Glowing Future

Submission by @satans-little-helper33

This piece takes place right after Nico’s final chapter at the end of Blood of Olympus.

Main Characters: Will Solace and Nico DiAngelo

Solangelo fluff

Nico’s encounter with Eros had cracked him wide open and left him feeling vulnerable and broken, forced to face his own reality and feelings, exposed in front of Jason; he was forced to share his darkest secret for a god’s amusement. Nico now knew he could trust Jason to keep it to himself, though, and he was beginning to realize that in order to crawl out of his self-constructed prison, his barriers first had to be torn down.

The feelings that had haunted him for so long—the shame, the fear, the denial—caused by the mentality of the 1940s he’d grown up in began to fade away. 

He was no longer that scared little boy who had been enraptured by the presence of a powerful demigod, and now that he had finally confessed his past feelings to Percy, Nico felt that he could finally move forward. 

Hades’s son made his way back down the hill to where Will was waiting for him, wearing scrubs,  jeans, and a crooked smile that made his heart skip a beat.

--------

“Sorry I didn’t come visit you in the infirmary,” Nico said, wearing the hint of a smile.

“It’s alright, I forgive you,” Will Solace said, his mouth set tight but laughter in his eyes, like he was trying to stay mad at Nico and failing.

“You wanted me to stay there--”

“For at least three days. Doctor’s orders.” Will started to lead Nico back toward the infirmary.

“Really, I’m Fine,” Nico began, but then his knees buckled and Will hoisted him back up.

“Uh huh. Right. Let’s get you to a bed.”

--------

Even after Coach Hedge’s nature magic/sports drink concoction, which had sustained Nico for a while, the arduous task of shadow-travelling the Athena Parthenos across the world had caught up with him again.

When Nico opened his eyes again, he was in the infirmary half sitting, half lying on a piece of furniture that was somewhere between a bed and a stretcher. 

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” a familiar voice intoned, “have some ambrosia.”

Will sat on a chair beside the bed; the room of the infirmary he was in was long and lined with similar bed-stretchers, separated by white curtains that shimmered in different colors when they were moved.

Several other beds were occupied with demigods sporting now-relatively-minor injuries left over from the battle with Gaia and the monster army: a daughter of Hecate 2 beds over was glaring at her leg in a cast as if she was insulted by the inconvenience.

Nico turned back to Will, and noticed that beside the bed there was a small table with a baggie of ambrosia squares on it. Nico reached out to pick one up but encountered a familiar problem: his fingers passed right through the baggie and ambrosia, as if he was becoming one with the shadows permanently. His hand appeared fuzzy around the edges, as if he was dissolving.

“Uhh, maybe if I try again--”

Will frowned, then sighed. “This is what happens when you overextend yourself. Here, let me help you.” He picked up a square and held it out to feed Nico.

Nico leaned back. “What are you doing?”

“No arguing. Open up.” Solace said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Will took none of Nico’s shit. That was one of the things Nico found most endearing and annoying about him; no matter how hard the son of Hades tried to push him away, Will simply refused to let him.

Nico took the ambrosia, and after a few moments they looked back at his hand, which seemed to be coming back into sharper focus.

“You had me worried there, diAngelo,” Will said, smiling, and briefly gripped his hand to check if it was now solid. Day of the Dead skeletons tapped out a jig in Nico’s chest.

“You were worried...about me?” Nico said, still wrapping his mind around the fact that Will had wanted a death demigod to visit him in the infirmary.

“Get some sleep.” he said, closing the ziplock bag.

“I’m not tired.” 

“Well you will be in a second. CLOVIS,” he called out. The calf-like son of Morpheus appeared around the corner and Will told him “we’ve got another stubborn one,” throwing a teasing smile Nico’s way.

Clovis yawned. “I’m all over it,” he said, and--despite Nico’s protests--touched his forehead. The son of Hades drifted off into a deep sleep.

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

Nico awoke feeling more rested than he had in weeks. 

He quickly sat up, suddenly worried, because the last time he’d felt this rested, he’d been asleep for three days.

Nico stopped a passing Apollo healer. 

“How long have I been out??”

The healer scratched his chin, trying to estimate. “About 6 hours?” He walked off.

Will walked into the infirmary, arguing with a Demeter camper; something about herbs and supplies? He turned and spotted Nico.

“Well, good evening, sleepyhead! How was your nap? Feeling better?”

“I think 6 hours is slightly more than a nap.” Nico retorted.

“Well, count yourself lucky that Clovis has learned to control his powers better. A while ago he put a camper out for a week by accident.” Will made his way toward him. “Can you stand?”

“Um, let’s find out.” Nico swung his legs over the bed and got up. Aside from stumbling a little, he was feeling much better. Nico marvelled at the healing powers of sleep.

As if he read his mind, Will said, “Oh yeah, sleep has endless benefits.”

Nico twisted his skull ring. “Hey, I came in here at about noon, which means--”

 The conch horn signalling the dinner feast echoed across the valley. Will grinned. “I think that’s our cue.”

--------

The Half Blood campfire that night still carried with it an aura of elation spurred from disbelief, that they had won the battle against Gaia and made allies with the Romans, and a sort of desperation to feel alive brought about by all of those who had died in the process. Nico felt a pang for Leo, though he had a strange feeling that his death wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.

Will sat by him at the bonfire, the Apollo cabin on his left and Nico on his right, leaving Nico unsure as to whether Will had sat next to him or his cabin. He chastised himself for hoping that it was the former.

The enchanted flames in the brazier blazed brightly with the energy of the campers, and Nico felt the warmth flare in his heart as he cast a glance at the son of Apollo, the light from the fire reflecting off of his blonde hair. 

--------

Nico lay in his bunk that night after the campfire, staring up at the ceiling of the Hades cabin that was inset with precious stones. He quickly realized that there was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, and he climbed out of bed. The whole room was drenched in liquid shadows, and despite his exhaustion after the journey shadow travelling with the Athena Parthenos, Nico stepped forward and became one with the darkness with ease.

  He melted from the shadow of a tree, finding himself by the lakeside at the edge of Camp Half-Blood. A full moon cast a pale glow on the night. Nico walked down to the sand and sat down; the silence was intoxicating, and Nico closed his eyes and listened to the gentle lapping of small waves against the shore. Suddenly he felt something nearby, heard the brush rustle, and wondered whether the cleaning harpies had come to eat him for being out past curfew. Nico drew his Stygian sword, which seemed to pull at the darkness like a magnet, and got ready to defend himself. What actually emerged from the brush was Will, who abruptly spotted Nico’s sword and laughed quietly. 

“Expecting a fight?”

Nico quickly sheathed his sword. “What are you doing out here?” He noticed for the first time that Will had something in his hands.

He held up two goblets. “Mind if I join you?”

Will was the only one at camp who was not blatantly wary of him; after several years as an outcast, the effect felt foreign.

Will sat down next to the son of Hades and spoke to one of the goblets--“Pomegranate juice”--and handed it to Nico as the cup filled with garnet liquid. 

“Are these--” Nico began.

“Glasses from the dining pavilion? Yeah. I snuck a couple out before dinner ended.” He wore his trademark mischievous smile. “I noticed you asked for pomegranate juice at dinner.” Nico felt his face grow warm as Will turned to his own cup and requested ginger beer. Soon the glass was filled with amber.

“It...reminds me of my mom.” Nico said quietly. “Not Persephone, ironically. When Bianca, my mom, and I...” his voice caught on Bianca’s name “when we lived in New Orleans, I was little, but I remember her giving us pomegranate juice on special occasions. It was a tough thing to find where we lived, so she would only have it on celebrations or...when my dad came to visit. I was just a baby when she was murdered.”

He stared down in silence at his drink.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. Bianca, your mom, none of it,” Will said gently.

“I know,” Nico muttered, his voice nonetheless doubtful.

Will placed his hand on Nico’s, and he tensed, ready to pull away, but then instead turned his palm up to hold Will’s. 

Nico turned his head to look up at Will, his pale blue eyes shining in the moonlight, almost periwinkle, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Will murmured, his gaze taking Nico in. Will looked into his dark eyes as if he could perceive all of him, good and bad, and was still enraptured by what he saw. 

Will reached out hesitantly, as if to touch Nico’s face, but stopped before, gaging his reaction, and when the son of Hades didn’t pull away, he brushed the ink-black hair out of his face.

Involuntarily, Nico’s eyes closed and his heart began to race. His life had, for years, been spent more with the dead than the living. No one had touched him tenderly for what felt like eons, not since Bianca, and only now did he realize how starved for physical affection he had been. Not just starved, he thought to himself, afraid of it… 

And in that moment he decided that he was not going to be afraid anymore.

  Will’s gaze moved from Nico’s eyes to his lips, and he leaned in carefully as if approaching a wild animal. Nico closed the distance, and as their lips met, his life bloomed before him like a chrysanthemum opening layer by layer. Suddenly Nico could see a future before him that wasn’t ruled by death and solitude. 

Unnoticed by either of them, a dead mouse at the edge of the forest was brought back to life and scampered off into the trees.

 - Alya

@satans-little-helper33

My writing blog: @from-story-to-screen

[bevioletskies]

spare me a little (of your love)

summary: Klavier always liked to express his love with flowers, so sending a beautiful bouquet to his boyfriend every now and then seemed like the obvious thing to do. However, there’s just one little problem - Apollo is very, very allergic to pollen.

word count: 5.3k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day two of seven (prompt: "flowers"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings, but doesn’t reference any specific plotlines otherwise. My source for flower meanings can be found here. Fic title is from the song Spare Me a Little of Your Love by Fleetwood Mac.

“The language of...flowers?”

“Oui, oui, mon ami!” Athena chirped, nodding eagerly. “That’s just one of the many languages I speak, y’know.”

Apollo eyed her skeptically over the top of his laptop screen. “...right. Elaborate, please.”

“Well, you know how people usually give roses to express their love?” Athena said, leaning across the gap between their desks. She didn’t even blink when she accidentally knocked over Apollo’s calendar and pen holder in one fell swoop. Apollo, on the other hand, shot her an affronted glance that she deftly ignored. “Well, each flower actually has its own specific meaning. It even varies from color to color! Par exemple, white roses symbolize innocence, while yellow roses symbolize friendship.”

“That seems unnecessarily complicated,” Apollo remarked. “Don’t most flowers come with a card? Why can’t people just write their messages instead?”

They turned at the sound of a disappointed groan coming from the middle of the room. “You’re so unromantic, Polly,” Trucy complained, peeking at them from over the back of the couch. “I almost feel bad for Mr. Gavin!”

“Hey,” Apollo protested. “I can be - I-I’m romantic!”

“If you say so,” Athena giggled, poking him in the shoulder. Huffing, Apollo prodded her back. Athena reached for a rubber band, fully intending to escalate things. She lowered her projectile dejectedly when Apollo raised his hands in surrender; he had no interest in losing an eye today.

“Sunflowers and tulips are supposed to symbolize happiness, right?” Phoenix asked. “Those are pretty much the only flowers I really know, so.”

There was a long, uncomfortably drawn-out silence. “...Daddy, your ex-girlfriend’s name was Dahlia. Her real name was - is - Iris.”

“Oh...right,” Phoenix chuckled, only mildly embarrassed. “Speaking of, do you know what dahlias and irises mean, Athena?”

Athena’s eyes were practically sparkling now. “Oui! Dahlias symbolize elegance and dignity.” Phoenix made a face. “...but, they also symbolize dishonesty and betrayal.”

“That’s more like it,” Phoenix muttered under his breath. “And irises?”

“Faith, wisdom, that kinda thing,” Athena shrugged. She then paused. “Y’know, if you want some ideas on the kinds of flowers Mr. Edgeworth would like, I can make some - ”

“Nope, nope, I-I’m good,” Phoenix interrupted swiftly, his face reddening. He had a vase of daffodils sitting on his desk, which Edgeworth had sent to the office a few days ago. None of them believed Phoenix when he claimed they were purely intended for decoration. “So why the sudden interest in flowers, Apollo? Is this, er...is this about Gavin?”

“If you’re not talking about your prosecutor, sir, I’m not talking about mine,” Apollo said firmly, turning back to his laptop.

“Sure, except I think your prosecutor’s fair game when he picks you up from work most days,” Phoenix teased. His tone was eerily similar to Trucy’s. If Phoenix wasn’t both his boss and his sort-of stepfather, Apollo would’ve picked up a rubber band himself.

A few hours later, Apollo was locking up the office for the evening when he heard the roar of a familiar-sounding motorcycle coming up the street. He turned, biting back a smile as Klavier pulled up beside the sidewalk and turned off his engine. “Your bike really is as obnoxious as you are.”

Klavier removed his helmet, pouting. “Achtung, is that any way to greet your boyfriend?”

“It is for me,” Apollo replied, kissing him briefly. “Hi.”

“Hallo,” Klavier murmured against Apollo’s lips, grinning as he pulled away. “Dinner?”

“Yes, please,” Apollo said, reaching for Klavier’s spare helmet. “I’m feeling...pizza and all the cheesy garlic breadsticks. Or maybe we can just get cheesy garlic breadsticks.”

“As nice as that sounds, you need more vegetables than the little bits you get in your cup noodles, baby,” Klavier said, patting Apollo’s hip affectionately. “Pizza, breadsticks, and a side salad, ja?”

“Fine, fine,” Apollo grumbled, settling in behind Klavier. “Turn me into a rabbit, why don’t you? Buy me a bag of carrot sticks the next time we go to the grocery store. Stuff my mattress with straw and newspaper - ”

“And people think I’m the dramatic one,” Klavier lamented, shaking his head in amusement.

It wasn’t long before the two of them were sitting on the floor of Klavier’s living room, pleasantly stuffed with pizza and breadsticks and a mediocre amount of Greek salad (“I’m not a fan of olives, you know.” “Not surprising, since the color doesn’t work with your complexion.” “Klavier, I swear to - ”). A random made-for-TV movie was playing in the background on mute, though neither of them were particularly interested in watching it.

“How was work?” Apollo asked, taking a much-needed gulp of cold water. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get the taste of garlic out of his mouth.

“Boring, unfortunately,” Klavier said with a grimace. “Herr Edgeworth didn’t have anything but paperwork to offer me. No trials, no investigations, nichts. You?”

“Same,” Apollo replied. “Mr. Wright’s mostly working with Athena this month, so they’re taking the big clients while I get stuck with the smaller cases. Not that I’m complaining, I mean - it’s a nice change from Khura’in. I don’t want every trial to feel like I’m going under, you know?”

“Nein, that would be terrible,” Klavier agreed. “Exciting, sure, but the stress wouldn’t be worth it. I already found a gray hair the other day, ach.”

Apollo snorted. “Just one? You should see mine - I’m gonna be completely gray by thirty-five at this rate.” He shuffled closer so he could snuggle up against Klavier’s side, letting his head drop to Klavier’s shoulder. “So...turns out, Athena knows all about the flower language thing. Figured she might.”

“Flower...language...thing?” Klavier echoed, confused. He then brightened. “Ah! From our video call with my mama the other day, ja? I didn’t know you were actually interested.”

“I wasn’t, not at first,” Apollo admitted, squeezing Klavier’s arm. “But...I want your parents to like me, and since she said she was taking an interest, I thought, y’know, why not look into it? And it sounds kinda...contrived, not gonna lie. But I guess it’s kinda sweet, too. Like a secret language between just two people.”

Klavier’s face softened. “Ja, exactly. My parents used to write love letters to each other when they were in school, so I think this is Mama’s way of starting a new tradition - buying Papa flowers so he can plant them in his garden. You should see our family estate in the summer, it’s absolutely stunning.”

“Sounds like it,” Apollo said, smiling. “Your parents’ lives sound so...peaceful. Baking, gardening, travelling...I know it’s a little early to start thinking about retirement, but still, they’re living the dream.”

“They’re not retired yet,” Klavier chuckled. “And stop making me feel like I’m dating an old man, bitte. You complaining about your back makes me feel like I have to start complaining about my back.”

Apollo hummed, tracing random patterns along Klavier’s forearm with his finger. He was pleasantly sleepy from a number of things - his long, if uneventful day of work, the amount of cheese and carbs he’d just consumed, and the warmth of Klavier’s skin against his. “Sorry we can’t all afford chiropractors and massage therapists, sheesh,” he teased, unable to hold back a yawn.

“Maybe we can get a massage together someday,” Klavier suggested, stretching luxuriously. “Ah, before I forget - since we were talking about my parents just now, they asked me the other day if it would be alright to text you and send you things, little gifts and whatnot.”

“Huh? They would do that?” Apollo exclaimed. “I only just met them, like, a week ago!”

“They’re a bit...much,” Klavier said carefully. “Even when I was in high school, every friend I brought home was a potential lover to them, you know? They wanted to know everything about them, to shower them with gifts and affection. Even when I started working, I would ask Papa if I could have some flowers from his garden - you know, an arrangement to thank Herr Edgeworth for giving me a raise, a bouquet for my manager when we got our first record deal - and it was always the same story. Achtung, it’s embarrassing, but they mean well. You don’t have to say ja if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, I - it’s okay, I’d love to get to know your parents more, I’m just surprised,” Apollo admitted. The thought of them liking him this easily made him both relieved and unnerved at the same time. “Should I, uh, get them something in return?”

“Nein, nein, let them spoil you.” Klavier cupped Apollo’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. “Just like I do.”

“Sap,” Apollo murmured, kissing him back.

_____

It was a sort of gradual thing, for the most part. Barely a day had gone by when Apollo found himself in a group text with Klavier’s parents; he quickly discovered how witty and sweet and whip-smart they both were. Klavier’s father sent gorgeous photos of his garden - and calling it a garden seemed almost too modest when it seemed to be the size of a soccer field - while Klavier’s mother sent book recommendations, even the occasional movie recommendation.

“I never thought I’d be at that point in my life where my boyfriend’s mother sends me three long paragraphs about how she ‘discovered’ the Legally Blonde musical, but here we are,” Apollo had mused to the other agency members.

“Did you tell her that Klavier reminds everyone of that song, the one that goes - ”

“No, Athena, I did not. I want her to like me, remember?”

Soon after that, gifts started to arrive. Apollo had requested they send them to the agency, given how little he trusted his apartment building’s security after they nearly let his cat escape not too long ago. Unfortunately, it was too late before he realized that sometimes, he trusted his co-workers - or more specifically, his sister - even less.

“Trucy, do you know who ate the last piece of pie? Y’know, the one I was saving for today, to celebrate the end of my trial?”

“...huh. No idea, sorry, Polly!”

“Wait - th-there’s graham crumbs on Mr. Hat, what the hell - ”

His sister’s betrayal aside, Apollo felt good about things, almost unusually good. He soon started texting Klavier’s parents just as frequently as he did his own mother, thanking them for their generosity whenever they sent the occasional box of pastries or discounted event tickets. They also exchanged anecdotes about Klavier, along with stories about their own lives. He even received celebratory emojis whenever he told them about his victories in court - over their son, no less.

“I’m starting to think they like you more than they like me,” Klavier had lamented, though he seemed pleased all the same.

Then, a month into their budding familial relationship, a problem arrived on Apollo’s desk in the form of a bouquet the size of his head.

“Ah-choo!”

Trucy and Athena, who had been standing by the latter’s desk, both startled at the sound. “Ay Dios mío!” Athena exclaimed, clutching her heart in shock. “Are you okay, Apollo? That was some sneeze. I thought we were having another earthquake!”

“Har, har,” Apollo said dryly, reaching for a tissue. “It’s just the - achoo - flowers, that’s all.”

“They’re beautiful - very classic,” Athena added, dropping into Apollo’s desk chair so she could get a closer look. “Red roses and white lilies, claro. Ooh, I see some red carnations and white chrysanthemums, too!”

“Well, I see a card,” Trucy said, plucking a small white notecard from between the leaves. “Let’s see what it says!”

“That’s for - achoo - me, thank you very much.” Apollo snatched the card out of her hands, then squinted through his watery eyes to read it. “I...oh. Klavier says his mom helped him make the arrangement, with flowers from his dad’s garden.”

“How sweet!” Trucy gushed, taking a moment to sniff them, inhaling deeply as her eyes drifted closed. “Ooh, and they smell amazing. Mr. Gavin is such a good - ”

“Ah-choo!” Apollo sniffled, wiping his nose carefully. “...dammit.”

“I didn’t know you were allergic to pollen, Apollo,” Phoenix commented; he was on the other side of the room, pouring himself a cup of tea. “You never had any problems with the flowers Edgeworth sent to m - I mean, to the office.”

“Maybe it’s a freshly-cut thing?” Athena guessed, ignoring Phoenix’s awkward laugh. “Or, y’know, some flowers are worse for allergies than others. Dahlias, for example, are the worst.” Phoenix made another face before turning back to what he was doing.

“You should tell him you’re allergic,” Trucy said, patting Apollo’s free hand in sympathy. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

“But…” Apollo hesitated. The others braced themselves, anticipating another sneeze. “...this is from Klavier and his parents, you know? I can put up with a sneeze or two if it makes them happy. He loves sending flowers, and his dad’s really into gardening, so...if I tell them, they’ll stop doing it, and they’ll be too understanding, and I - I can’t deal with that. The, uh, the niceness, I mean.”

“Poor you, having the sweetest in-laws in the world,” Athena teased, pouting exaggeratedly. Oh, the humanity, Widget added. Apollo would have glared at them both, had he not started sneezing again. “Como tú quieras, I guess.”

Hours later, when Klavier met Apollo at the agency, the sight of his face brightening when he saw the bouquet confirmed Apollo’s fears. “Ah, how wunderschön,” Klavier declared, beaming. “I was worried they wouldn’t hold up during delivery. Do you like them, liebe?”

“They’re beautiful,” Apollo said, as honest as he could be. “Thanks, Klavier. I, uh, I hope it didn’t take you too long to put together.”

“You know how picky I can be,” Klavier hummed, carefully drawing a carnation out of the vase between two practiced fingers and bringing it up to his nose to smell. “I don’t settle for anything less than perfekt.” He turned, smirking. “That’s why I’m dating you, after all.”

“Gross,” Apollo said, wrinkling his nose; the effect was ruined by his affectionate laughter. “Hey, is it okay if I press them after they’ve wilted? I was thinking I could keep ‘em in my journal as a nice little reminder.”

Klavier chuckled, reaching over to squeeze Apollo’s hand. “Of course, Forehead. They’re all yours, you don’t have to ask for my permission. And I’m sure Mama and Papa would be delighted to hear you’re planning to give Papa’s flowers a second life. We’ll have to send you more in the future, ja?”

“...ja,” Apollo said weakly, his heart sinking.

_____

The next bouquet arrived two weeks later, bigger and bolder than before. According to Athena, it consisted of pink and orange roses, pink lilies, and yellow alstroemeria. However, it seemed to be the handful of sunflowers that topped everything off that left Apollo’s nose running all day.

“I think the only sunflower I can stand to be around is my attorney’s badge,” Apollo had bemoaned.

After that came an arrangement of white daisies, red gerbera, and white limonium (or, as Trucy liked to call it - she liked practicing tongue twisters when she was bored - “linoleum”). Then green hydrangeas and Queen Anne’s lace, which admittedly wasn't so bad, followed by purple daisies and pink gerbera, which was very, very bad. Apollo did not like the fact that he was getting used to the taste of Benadryl. He did manage to get some reprieve when Klavier sent him a simple vase of pink peonies.

“They’re hypoallergenic,” Athena had informed him. “But...mein Gott, Apollo, just tell him already!”

“But if I do, i-it’s…” Apollo had gestured wildly, unable to find the right words. Athena and Trucy had exchanged glances, then shook their heads in eerily synchronized disappointment.

Pink carnations and pink alstroemeria, purple irises and white aster, yellow daisies and orange roses; Apollo was starting to think the Gavin family garden was endless. And while his journal had never looked prettier, every page decorated with carefully pressed petals, every other page detailed with a date and a description courtesy of Athena’s expertise, his nose had never looked worse, his skin pink and dry and irritated. He was getting too used to the smell of CeraVe as well.

Finally, a bouquet of red roses - thankfully, also hypoallergenic - arrived with Klavier himself. He seemed delighted to be at the agency while everyone else was present for once, chatting happily with Athena and marvelling at Trucy’s card tricks. He and Phoenix seemed awkward around each other, though Apollo supposed that was to be expected. Even now, they hesitated whenever Apollo brought the other one up.

“So what’re you doing here, Mr. Gavin?” Trucy asked after she’d successfully duped him three times in a row. Apollo had to stop her before she started charging him for it. “Is it date night?”

“Not exactly,” Klavier said, turning to Apollo. “I came here to ask you something in person, liebe.”

Apollo raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all. What’s up?”

“I think it’s about time you meet my parents in person.” Klavier took both of Apollo’s hands in his, smiling hopefully. “So, if you’re ready...are you free this weekend? We could go to my family estate, spend the day - Mama would love to teach you how to make those puff pastries you like, and Papa wants to show you around the garden so you can see where all your wunderschön flowers came from.”

“I...oh.” Apollo’s face fell for a split second before he quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, Klav, that sounds incredible, but I-I was gonna stay with Mom this weekend. Maybe another time?”

“Natürlich,” Klavier replied, still smiling. While his smiles usually made Apollo feel warm and fuzzy, now all he was feeling was gnawing guilt. “Let me know when you have a free weekend, ja?”

“For sure,” Apollo promised, pecking him briefly on the cheek. “And thanks for the roses, even though I, uh, kinda ruined the occasion.”

“Ruined?” Klavier repeated, chuckling. “Ach, it’s no big deal, you’re busy. We have time, don’t we?”

“Of course!” Apollo exclaimed, far too loudly. Klavier didn’t seem to mind, though; he leaned down to kiss Apollo properly, humming all the while.

“Anyway, I should get going before Herr Edgeworth notices I’m not in my office,” Klavier said, reluctantly pulling away. The look on Phoenix's face suggested he knew that Edgeworth had figured it out long ago. “Auf Wiedersehen, süßer!”

The second Klavier left, Apollo let out the breath he’d been holding. He didn’t even need to look up to know the others were staring at him very judgmentally. “...I don’t wanna hear it.”

“You really shouldn’t lie to your boyfriend, Apollo,” Phoenix said gently; his voice had taken on the sort of “dad” tone that made Apollo feel even guiltier. “Er, that is, you shouldn’t lie to anyone, but you know what I mean. Are you really protecting his feelings by doing this?”

Sighing, Apollo collapsed into his desk chair, dropping his forehead to his desk with an audible thunk. “I know, I know. It was stupid from the start, but...I-I honestly wasn’t expecting him to send this many! I thought it’d be, y’know, for special occasions only, like every few months or whatever. Then I could deal with it, and he would never have to know. Not, like, just ‘cos he felt like it. Though I guess I really should’ve seen it coming, knowing him.”

“You really gotta tell him,” Trucy insisted. “Next time you see him, okay? Or else you’re never gonna say anything!”

“I will, I swear,” Apollo insisted, combing his fingers through his hair. He could feel more grays coming in by the second. “I have no interest in being the worst boyfriend ever, believe me.”

_____

It didn’t take long for Apollo to realize that while he was perfectly fine - or, at least, reasonably fine - with confrontation in the courtroom, he was very much not fine with confrontation in his personal life. The flower arrangements came less frequently now, and when they did, they seemed to be exclusively hypoallergenic. Klavier’s invitations, on the other hand, seemed more persistent.

“I don’t mean to push,” Klavier would say. “It’s just that exam week is coming up and, being professors and all, they’re going to be very busy soon. I was hoping we’d be able to spend some time with them before then.”

“Yeah, o-of course,” Apollo would reply, his stomach twisting every time, knowing full well he was about to turn him down again.

Another weekend went by, then another. There always seemed to be something, whether it was Apollo’s sudden frequent visits to Thalassa’s, Trucy’s sudden need for a magic show assistant, or that Apollo was just too tired to be good company. Eventually, Klavier seemed to simply stop asking. In fact, he seemed to stop asking him about anything at all.

“Do you wanna grab lunch?” Apollo had once asked Klavier while they were both packing up after the end of a lengthy trial.

“I don’t know.” Klavier had sounded tired, subdued; he refused to look Apollo in the eyes. “I think I’m just going to head back to the office and catch up on my emails. Take care, Herr Forehead.” He’d quickly swept out of the courtroom before Apollo could even say goodbye.

Apollo’s group text with his parents seemed to slow down, too, especially when it came to Klavier’s papa’s photos of his garden. Klavier’s mama, on the other hand, sent him short, stilted messages, now seemingly out of obligation instead of affection. Their near-radio silence, Apollo had to admit, was well-deserved. He knew he had to do something before it was too late, if it wasn’t already too late.

“I was surprised you wanted me to join you today,” Klavier said one morning as the two of them were taking a leisurely stroll around People Park, hand-in-hand. “Lately, I feel like I’ve been dating a ghost, achtung. We only ever see each other in court. Maybe at crime scenes, too, if we’re lucky.”

“And I’m surprised you agreed to come,” Apollo admitted. “I missed you, Klavier. Only...I, uh, I know that’s really my fault, not yours.”

“You do, do you?” Klavier sounded bitter. His grip on Apollo’s hand was looser than usual, like he was ready to pull away at any second, like he wanted to run. The thought made Apollo’s chest ache. “And here, I thought you were as oblivious as ever.”

“Hey,” Apollo protested, frowning. Then, he sighed. “No, you - you’re right. This is on me. Will you - I - listen, I have something for you, back at the office. Can we go get it before you head to work?”

Klavier nodded shortly. While his eyes had softened, his smile was still strained. “Ja, let’s go.”

Thankfully, the agency was empty when they got there, save for a certain something sitting patiently on Apollo’s desk. He set his bag down, then turned on all the lights, his heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage. “So these aren’t as nice as your dad’s, but, uh. This is for you...and your parents.”

“What do you - ah!” Klavier approached Apollo’s desk with wide, disbelieving eyes, his gaze fixated on the beautiful arrangement of white lilies, yellow tulips, and white orchids wrapped in white decorative tissue paper. “Apollo, these are...they’re lovely! Did you pick these out yourself?”

“Athena helped,” Apollo said, hovering nervously. “She said white lilies are for humility, yellow tulips can mean forgiveness, and white orchids symbolize strength. Fitting, since I wanted to...apologize. For being a horrible boyfriend.”

“I don’t know about ‘horrible’,” Klavier said, gently running a finger down the length of one of the orchids. “...but you have been distant. If you’re not actually interested in meeting my parents, or if you...if you want to end things, just say so, will you?” His voice cracked. “I might like a bit of drama every now and then, but not in my own life. Not in my own relationship.”

“What?! No, no, I-I don’t wanna end things at all!” Apollo exclaimed, his voice filling the room. He took a few deep, even breaths to calm himself. “Just...will you hear me out? Please?” Klavier nodded, though he refused to look at him. “I’m...I’m sorry for avoiding you and your parents. And before you ask...yes. I was doing it on purpose. It’s nothing that - none of you did anything wrong, okay? It’s me, i-it’s - it - I - ah - ”

Klavier turned on his heel, worried. “Apollo? Are you - ”

“Ah-choo!”

Klavier jumped. “Ach - Apollo?”

“I forgot there were asters in there,” Apollo grumbled, reaching for a tissue. He wasn’t sure which was redder now, his nose or his cheeks. “It’s - I - achoo - ”

“Apollo,” Klavier said slowly; if Apollo didn’t know any better, he would've thought he was trying not to laugh. “Are you, by chance...allergic to pollen?”

Apollo sniffed sharply. “...yes, dammit, yes! That’s literally what I’ve been trying to say - achoo - just now, until - achoo - my sinuses decided to - achoo - speak for me!” He was half-doubled over at this point, clenching a fistful of tissues in both hands.

“Baby, have you been rejecting my invitation to meet my parents because you’re allergic to all the flowers we’ve been sending you for the last several weeks?” Klavier sounded more incredulous than angry.

“...yes. Yes, I have, yes, I’m an idiot and an asshole and - achoo - I’m so sorry, Klavier, I - achoo - ”

“Bitte, say it, don’t spray it.” Klavier held up Apollo’s tissue box for him, keeping it - and Apollo himself - at a good distance. “Mein Gott, Apollo, I thought you wanted to break up with me! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?!”

It took another minute or so before Apollo finally stopped sneezing long enough to get a full sentence out. He sniffled again, wiping his nose completely clean. “...have you ever told, like, the tiniest lie to make someone happy, only for it to turn into a big...thing? And then you know you have to come clean, that it’s what you’re s’posed to do, but the thought of doing it makes you anxious, even if not doing it also makes you anxious, and then...it just...it, uh, it stays with you.” He swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “Not that that’s an excuse, it’s just - that’s just what happened. I’m sorry, Klavier, I really am. I really do want to meet your parents, they’re so sweet and friendly a-and funny, I’m just...I’m bad at this. Really, really bad at this.”

Klavier sighed. Apollo held his breath, anticipating the worst. Then, Klavier wrapped him in his arms, letting out another sigh of relief. “I understand, liebe, and...I forgive you. Danke for explaining yourself.” He kissed the top of Apollo’s head. “Maybe we should’ve stuck to sending you pies, ja?”

Apollo laughed wetly. “I don’t know how you’re joking right now. That’s usually my job.” He lifted his head from Klavier’s chest to look up at him with a grateful smile. “I really did love the flowers, you know. When they weren’t attacking my respiratory system, that is.”

“Still, let’s not push it any further,” Klavier said wryly. “Now - two things, if you don’t mind. First, let me give you some moisturizer for your poor, poor nose. I’m not kissing you until I’m sure your skin won’t flake off in the process.”

“Ew, thanks for the gross visual,” Apollo grimaced. “And the second thing?”

Klavier smiled. “If you're alright with it, I’d like you to tell my parents what happened...in person.”

_____

The garden was just as beautiful as Apollo imagined it to be, given the dozens and dozens of photos he’d gotten from Klavier’s papa. It was full and lush and vibrant, with towering trees that provided ample shade, a beautiful gazebo with a built-in fireplace, a gorgeous two-tiered fish pond, and of course, a plethora of flowers, as far as they could see. Everything was especially beautiful, in Apollo’s opinion, from the relative safety of the conservatory.

“We’re not throwing you to the wolves, darling,” Klavier’s mama insisted, as if she were talking about actual wild animals and not her husband’s hobby. “We’ll stay in here for high tea so you can admire the garden at a safe distance, yes?”

“Yes, th-thank you,” Apollo stammered, relieved. “High tea?”

“Today’s menu is German chocolate scones and mini-sandwiches. With the crusts cut off for my fussy baby boy, of course,” she added, pinching Klavier’s cheek with a devious grin.

“Mama,” Klavier protested, embarrassed. His papa chuckled, settling into the chair across from his son; he still had a smudge of dirt on his nose. “I’m a grown man, achtung. I have my own health insurance and everything!”

“I really am sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gavin,” Apollo said sincerely. Despite their kindness and generosity, he was still somewhat intimidated by them, by how tall and beautiful and well-spoken they were. As much as he didn’t want to think about his former boss, Apollo could see where he and Klavier got their good looks and charm from. “I wanted to make a good impression, but I, uh, I didn’t go about it the right way. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now, but...I kept it from happening for a dumb reason, and it led to me hurting your feelings and Klavier’s feelings. I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Klavier’s papa insisted, waving a hand. “Just promise you’ll stop by every now and then, alright? Our doors are open to you, Apollo. Consider us your parents, too, if you’d like.”

Apollo smiled softly. “I would, sir.”

“It’ll be a good, allergy-free time, I promise,” he continued with a teasing wink. “We’ll bake some bread, watch some home movies...are you interested in seeing - ach, what do the kids call it - Klavier’s ‘goth phase’?”

Apollo’s mouth dropped open. “...his what.”

“Papa, nein,” Klavier whined; he really did sound like a child now. “Maybe it was a mistake to bring you here, liebling.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Apollo said, his grin widening. “I would love to see Klavier’s goth phase. Did he dye his hair?”

“Oh, did he,” Klavier’s mama said slyly with the exasperated sigh of a parent who had dealt with too much. “It’s a miracle he managed to get back to blond at all.” She then got to her feet, smoothing out the front of her apron. “Anyway, Papa and I should go check on the scones now. You two sit tight, okay?” Before Apollo could blink, she’d dropped kisses on both his and Klavier’s foreheads, then disappeared down the hallway and into the kitchen, her husband in tow. He turned to look at Klavier, who was watching him nervously.

“I love them,” Apollo admitted. “They’re so sweet, Klav, they - stop looking at me like that, will you?”

“You can’t blame me for worrying,” Klavier said, kissing him briefly. “But I’m glad to hear it. Ich liebe dich, schatz.”

“Love you too, dork,” Apollo murmured against Klavier’s lips. “...so. Did you have a lip ring, or snake bites, or - ”

“Get out of my house,” Klavier huffed, pinching Apollo’s arm with an exaggerated pout.

“Hey! This isn’t your house, it’s your parents’ house, and they said their doors were open,” Apollo teased, laughing. Rolling his eyes, Klavier pulled Apollo into his arms, the two of them snuggled up on the loveseat. In the distance, they could see birds and butterflies fluttering among the flowers, a stray squirrel or two sniffing curiously at the edge of the fish pond. It was peaceful, serene. If it wasn't for the pollen, Apollo could see himself staying outside for hours at a time. “...but seriously, I’m looking forward to the video evidence.”

“I’m sure you are,” Klavier sighed, giving Apollo one last kiss before his parents returned with a large tray of sandwiches, scones, tea, and a vase with a single red rose for decoration - hypoallergenic, of course.

_____

a/n: Welcome to my second entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the fourth of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. Today, I have projected my allergies and anxiety onto Apollo, because that's what fanfiction is for, right? I hope y'all like my version of the Gavins; I've written them as cold and distant a couple of times, but I usually prefer to write them as warm and witty so that Klavier has a good support system in his life.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[pjo-whore]

Percy In Tartarus

Chapter 1: The Fall, And Gone

ao3 link. if anyone wants to be tagged for future updates please comment!

Annabeth had seen some strange things before, having been privy to the mythological world since she was only seven years old.

Several things she could name off the top of her head was her first time at Camp Half-Blood when she witnessed her best friend die in cold blood, then proceed to be turned into a pine tree; witnessing the Stoll brothers pull of pranks that increasingly defied the laws of physics; and when she had even seen her boyfriend turned into a guinea pig by a vengeful sorceress.

And that wasn’t even half of the craziest stuff she had to deal with on the daily.

But if there was one thing she had never witnessed before, it was cars raining from the sky. If she was being honest, it wasn’t as cool as it sounded.

Like, three out of ten.

Would not recommend.

As the roof of the cavern collapsed, beams of sunlight came through from above, blinding Annabeth. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the Argo II.

It had used its ballistae to blast a hole straight through the ground.

Giants chunks of asphalt tumbled down, along with six or seven Italian cars. One would have crushed the Athena Parthenos, but luckily the statue’s glowing aura acted as a force field, and the car bounced off.

Unfortunately, that car fell toward Annabeth.

Annabeth launched herself to the side to avoid it and accidentally rolled her bad ankle. Pain washed through her, making her lightheaded. She was only just able to flip onto her back in time to see a bright red Fiat 500 slam straight into Arachne’s silk trap, punching through the cavern floor and disappearing with the Chinese spider-cuffs.

As Arachne fell, she screamed like a freight train on collision course.

More chunks of debris slammed through the floor, riddling it with holes.

The Athena Parthenos remained undamaged, thankfully, but the marble under its pedestal was a starburst of fractures.

When everything settled and debris stopped falling, Annabeth was finally able to calm down and take stock. She was covered with cobwebs. She trailed the strands of leftover spider silk from her arms and legs like the strings of a marionette, but somehow none of the debris had hit her.

Annabeth wanted to believe that it had been the statue of her mother that had protected her, but bitterly, she suspected it may have been nothing but luck.

Around her, the army of spiders had disappeared.

Either they had fled back into the shadows, or they had fallen into the chasm along with Arachne, and there was no lost love from Annabeth for either option.

As natural light flooded the cavern, Arachne’s silk tapestries along the wall crumbled to dust. Annabeth could hardly bear to watch it, especially when the tapestry depicting Percy and her kissing underwater turned to nothing.

But none of it mattered the moment Annabeth heard her boyfriend calling from above.

“Annabeth!”

“Here!” She sobbed. It hurt to yell. “Over here!”

Her terror left her in one massive wave of relief. As the Argo II descended, she could see Percy leaning over the railing, waving to her. Black hair whipping in the wind, smile crooked, he appeared like a god sent from Elysium. His smile was better than any tapestry Annabeth had ever seen.

The room kept shaking, and with no lack of difficulty, Annabeth pulled herself to her feet. Her backpack was missing, along with Daedalus’ laptop.

Her celestial bronze knife, which she’d had since she was seven, was also gone.

Annabeth wanted to cry. It felt like she had lost a part of herself.

Above her, the Argo II came to a stop about forty feet from the floor. A rope ladder was lowered, but Annabeth ignored it as she stood in a daze, head still heavy.

Percy appeared at her side, lacing his fingers with hers.

He gently turned Annabeth away from the pit and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Annabeth buried her face in his chest and finally broke down in tears.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re together.”

Percy didn’t say “you’re okay” or “we’re alive.” After all the two had been through, he knew the most important thing was that they were together. Annabeth felt fit to bursting for the love she held for him, and she hugged him tighter.

Around them their friends gathered. Nico was there, but Annabeth’s head felt so fuzzy that it didn’t even surprise her. It only seemed right for him to be there.

“Your leg!” Piper exclaimed. She kneeled next to Annabeth and examined the Bubble Wrap cast, fretting over her friend’s injury. “Oh, Annabeth, what happened?”

Annabeth wanted to explain, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She felt so light-headed, and her tongue felt swollen. Her throat was parched. Percy seemed to know what she needed and called for a water bottle, which Leo grabbed from his utility bet and quickly handed over to her.

As she started, it became easier.

Percy didn’t let go of her hand either, which helped to motivate her.

When she finished, everyone was staring at her in disbelief.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason said. “You did all that alone – and with a broken ankle!”

“Well, some of it with a broken ankle,” Annabeth said weakly.

Percy broke out in a grin. “But you made Arachne weave her own trap? I knew you were good, but by the gods – generations of Athena kids tried and failed, but you did it! You found the Athena Parthenos!”

Attention switched to the statue.

“So … what do we do with her?” Frank asked. “She’s huge.”

“We have to take her with us to Greece,” Annabeth said. “She’s powerful. Something about her will help us stop the giants’ rise.”

“The giants’ bane stands gold and pale, won with pain from a woven jail,” Hazel said, quoting the prophecy. Her expression gained a hint of admiration. “It was Arachne’s jail. You tricked her into weaving it.”

With a lot of pain, Annabeth thought humorlessly.

Leo raised his hands in a mock framing, trying to measure the Athena Parthenos. “Well, it might take some rearranging, but I think we can fit her through the bay doors in the stables. If she sticks out at the end, I might have to wrap a flag around her feet … or something.”

Annabeth shuddered at the image. She imagined the Athena Parthenos jutting out from the trireme with a sign across its pedestal that read “WIDE LOAD.”

Then she remembered the other lines the prophecy: “the twins snuff out the angel’s breath, who holds the key to endless death.”

“What … what about you guys?” Annabeth said. “What happened with the giants?”

Percy told her about rescuing Nico and the surprise appearance of Bacchus, along with the fight with the twin giants in the Colosseum.

Nico didn’t say much. He didn’t say anything at all. The poor guy looked like he had been wandering through a frozen wasteland for a week. Percy shared what Nico had learned about the Doors of Death, and that to properly close them, they had to be shut on both sides.

Overworld and Underworld.

Even with the sunlight from above, Percy’s news made the cavern seem dark again.

“So, the mortal side is in Epirus.” The gears in Annabeth’s head begun to turn. “I mean … at least that’s somewhere we can reach.”

Nico grimaced. “But it’s the other side that’s the problem – Tartarus.”

The word seemed to echo eerily through the chamber.

The pit behind the group of demigods exhaled a cold blast of air, causing Annabeth to shiver. The shadows got darker, the pit echoed, and an icy feeling crept up Annabeth’s spine. Annabeth knew with certainty that the chasm went straight to the Underworld.

Percy must have felt it too because he guided Annabeth away from the edge.

Slowly and carefully, the group migrated back to the Argo II.

Annabeth’s arms and legs trailed spider silk like a bridal train, and she wished that she had something to cut the silk off. She almost asked Percy to do the honours, but he leaned in and began talking. He frowned. “You know, Bacchus mentioned something about my voyage being harder than I expected. Not sure why he –”

Suddenly, the chamber groaned, making the Athena Parthenos tilt violently to the side. Its head caught on one of Arachne’s support cables, but the marble foundation beneath the pedestal was crumbling quickly.

For a horrible moment, Annabeth thought the statue was going to fall.

Her stomach dropped.

“Secure it!” She cried out.

Thankfully, her friends understood what she meant almost immediately.

“Zhang!” Leo called, already running. “Get me to the helm, quick! The coach is up there alone!”

Frank shifted into a giant eagle, pausing only for a moment to allow Leo to jump onto his back, and the two of them soared toward the Argo II.

“Don’t worry about running, I’ll be back for you guys in just a second. Just don’t reinjure Annabeth’s ankle,” Jason said to Percy and Annabeth. Then he turned and wrapped his arms around Piper, and he summoned the winds and shot into the air.

“There’s no time, this floor won’t last!” Hazel warned, but Jason didn’t hear her. She turned to the others. “The rest of us need to get to the ladder as quick as possible!”

The group started making their way to the Argo II less carefully, speed the only thing on their minds.

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from the holes in the floor, causing the demigods to inhale the dust and choke. The spider’s silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. The floor lurched and crumbled.

When they reached the ship, Annabeth watched anxiously as Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder, which was swaying wildly with the shaking of the cavern. Hazel gestured for her brother to follow. Nico was in no condition to pull himself up, still sickly pale and thin and limping. Hazel had to grab him from beneath the armpits to hoist him up.

Percy held onto Annabeth tighter, shifting on his feet worriedly.

“It’ll be fine,” he muttered. “It has to be fine – we’re so close.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

Above, grappling lines shot from the Argo II and wrapped around the Athena Parthenos. One lassoed Athena’s neck like a noose. Leo was shouting orders from the helm as Jason and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had managed to climb a quarter the way up when a sudden sharp pain shot up Annabeth’s bad leg, causing her to cry out and stumble.

“What is it?” Percy asked.

Annabeth didn’t have an answer.

Everything was in a haze and her head felt heavy. Confused, she staggered toward the ladder again, only to find that she could not. Instead, she was moving backward. And then her legs were swept out from beneath her in one pull, and she fell on her hands and knees. There was a hollow sound as her head bounced off the ground, and Annabeth saw stars.

“Her ankle!” Hazel screamed from the ladder. “Guys, quickly! Cut it! Cut it!”

Annabeth didn’t understand. Cut her ankle?

Apparently, Percy didn’t understand what Hazel meant, either. He grabbed Annabeth’s hands and tried to pull her back to her feet, but it caused more pain and he stopped when Annabeth began to cry. Then, suddenly, an invisible force yanked Annabeth backward and dragged her toward the pit with the force of Heracles.

Percy yelled out in fear. He lunged for Annabeth, grabbing her arms, digging his heels into the ground. Unfortunately, the momentum still carried him along with her.

“Help them!” Hazel yelled.

Nico jumped down from the ladder, headless of his injured state, and began hobbling in the direction of the pit as Hazel tried to disentangle her cavalry sword from the rope. The others were still focused on the Athena Parthenos and Hazel’s cry was lost in the general chaos.

Annabeth’s stomach dropped when she was yanked back another few feet.

She was terrified.

Now that Annabeth realized what was happening, it was too late. She was tangled in Arachne’s spider silk. She had assumed it was all loose lines, but with the entire floor covered in cobwebs, she hadn’t noticed that one of the strands was wrapped around her foot – and the other end went straight into the pit. It was attached to something heavy down in the darkness. Something was pulling her in.

Percy continued to pull uselessly on her, until something popped in her right shoulder, making her scream in pain. Startled, Percy slipped and fell past Annabeth. A large chunk of marble was upended behind them, granting them momentary pause from falling.

Percy finally seemed to get his wits about him and pulled out Riptide.

Annabeth couldn’t see it from where she was scrabbling for purchase against the marble floor, but she heard the blade hiss as it cut through the air.

With a snap, a wave of relief crashed through Annabeth once the pressure was released on her ankle. She tried pulling herself up, but the ground trembled as the marble cracked further, and the chunk behind them dropped into the looming chasm. Percy, who was behind her, tumbled down the sudden incline and, in a panic, reached out for something to grab – which happened to be Annabeth’s good ankle.

Together, they slipped further from the pull of Percy’s weight.

Terrified, Annabeth screamed and kicked him away. “Let go of me!”

“Fuck!”

Percy disappeared over the edge.

She scrambled backward as Nico hobbled past her and leaned over the edge, eyes wet.

“Annabeth help!” Percy cried. Annabeth crawled back in fear as the floor cracked further. Nico either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Percy was partway into the pit and dangling over the void. He had managed to catch a ledge almost fifteen feet below, but that wasn’t going to help him. He was holding on with one hand, struggling to get a drip with his other, which was bleeding profusely from a large gash across his palm. Several feet away from the hole sat Riptide, blood staining its blade.

No escape.

Annabeth jerked back.

She could have sworn a voice echoed from the pit, mocking her. Bile rose in her throat.

I go to Tartarus, and your loved one will come, too.

The pit shook violently, as if it were eagerly anticipating its next meal – its next victim.

Nico leaned over the edge of the chasm, hopelessly thrusting out his hand to help. But he was too far away. Nico knew it, Annabeth knew it – and Percy knew it, too.

“Percy,” Nico said, “grab my hand!”

Percy’s face was almost white with effort.

Hazel was still yelling for help from the others.

Even if they did hear her over the chaos, they would never make it in time.

Annabeth felt like her whole world was crashing down around her. She couldn’t comprehend that Percy was going to die. Even from a few feet away, she could feel the pull of the pit. She could see the darkness slowly rising, trying to claim Percy.

Percy gasped when the ledge shuddered and shifted. He looked up at Nico fifteen feet above, hand still extended. Percy’s face twisted as something final crossed his expression.

“The other side, Nico.”

Annabeth didn’t understand right away, but Nico did. He shook his head violently. “No, Percy –”

“The other side! I’ll see you there. Understand?”

Nico’s expression turned pained. “But –”

“Lead them there!” Percy said. “Promise me! Please!”

It suddenly struck Annabeth that Percy couldn’t see her. He had his eyes locked on Nico. Beside her, Nico looked lost. He stuttered. “I – I will.”

Below Percy, somewhere from the endless void, a voice laughed in the darkness.

Ice crawled up Annabeth’s spine.

A sacrifice. Such a beautiful sacrifice to wake the goddess.

It finally clicked in Annabeth’s mind.

A one-way trip.

A very hard fall.

And Percy looked scared.

Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to watch anymore.

She looked away, and Percy was gone.

*

[athenaquinn]

Can of Worms || Margot & Athena

TIMING: September 29th (before Margot’s wrist injury) LOCATION: UMWC library  PARTIES: @g0t-ri5h and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: All good friendships begin with dealing with bug infestations, right?

Margot did not enjoy libraries. She held no love for the smell of musty pages or worn in spines. Books were just so… wasteful and time consuming. Knowledge was much easier to acquire online and in turn to digest. But, nonetheless she was at the UMaine library, where WiFi was fastest and most accessible. It would be nice to leave her dorm room for an evening, and she’d take any excuse to escape her roommate. Margot had settled into a seat in the far corner of the library, where the fluorescent lighting was less assaulting to the eye. It was here she worked on her latest “comp-sci” project. It was a simple one, something she could’ve pulled off while she was in high school. Though, like always, she had procrastinated so thoroughly that it was due tomorrow and she had only just begun. Margot had no doubt that she would finish it on time, so long as she had no distractions. Thankfully it was a Friday night, and most had opted for college parties rather than their studies. The library was nearly empty, barring a student a few tables over, and she seemed to be quiet enough.

Athena could tell that this was already set to be a busy semester. For one, it was the second to last semester that she would have at UMWC, and she was taking a number of courses on top of TA-ing for Anita. She often found herself keen to study in the library, especially given that she didn’t live on campus and though the drive was hardly too much trouble, it didn’t seem worth it when she still had things to do on campus later on. The library wasn’t all that busy today, and KIL didn’t have a party this weekend, so she had settled down with her textbooks and pile of index cards, preparing for an exam that she had next week. Glancing up, she spotted another girl a few tables away. Athena wasn’t certain if she’d seen her before, but at least she wasn’t fae. The occasions when Athena had been in the company of fae at the library had been infuriating, not the least of which because killing them then and there would cause a scene. As the other girl looked up, Athena offered a quiet wave before bending back over her textbooks, twirling a pen around between her fingers.

At the girl’s wave, Margot shot back an uncomfortable smile. She wasn’t good at niceties, as much as she tried to be; polite conversation normally sounded sarcastic and gestures looked forced. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t formed any friendships since moving to town, though to be fair, she hadn’t tried very hard. Margot turned her attention back to her project, settling into an advanced algorithm. “Shit.” She cursed under her breath when the process came back with an error. She referred back to her notes, or rather, her intense, unintelligible scribbles. After a few moments of reflection, Margot could see where she had gone wrong. She began to rifle through her backpack for a pen in hopes of amending the mistake, coming up empty. Margot groaned. The light glinted off the pen being twirled between the girls fingertips. Margot made her way over to her table, plastering that same uncomfortable smile on her face. “Hi.” Margot said, “Could I borrow your pen?” Her eyes were trained on it rather intensely. She shook herself from the fixation before adding, “Please?”

The girl offered her a smile in return, and Athena didn’t pay too much attention until all of a sudden the other girl was right by her. “Hi.” She glanced up. “I’m using this one, but,” Athena grabbed her backpack, pulling it up and onto her lap. She grabbed her pencil case and unzipped it, pulling out another, identical pen. “Here. You - you can keep it, if you’re out of pens.” She paused. “If you’d like, you can come over here. I’m not going to be loud, and if you happen to lose another pen, it’s probably best to be in close proximity to the supply.” Athena tapped her fingers on her textbook. “I’m Athena, by the way. Might be worth introducing myself if I’m going to be inviting you to sit with me. What’s your name?”

Margot took the pen gratefully, and began immediately scribbling the correct notes on her paper. She breathed out a sigh upon completion, as if it had been an intense task. “Thank you. I’m usually typing, these things are an afterthought.” Margot said, referring to the pen. At the request Margot glanced to her desk, and then back, weighing up the choice. “Sure.” It was the least she could do to be polite. “I’m Margot.” She called over her shoulder, already up and relocating her things. Once she had settled into the new spot across from Athena, Margot took in the contents of Athena’s study kit, an array of index cards and textbooks. “You’re so,” Margot paused in awe, “organised.” It was of stark contrast to her own distressing set-up. “What is it you study?”

“I like both, so I often just have them on me.” Athena gave a shrug. “It’s no bother.” She grinned just slightly as the other girl agreed to come and sit with her. Athena found that although she could be perfectly content all on her own, she often found that she desired company. “Nice to meet you.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her own gaze following Margot’s. “Oh, well, you know....” Someone else might have blushed at the compliment, but she took it in stride, because it was true. “It’s just how I’ve always been. I appreciate the compliment.” Tapping her fingers against the pages of her textbook, she glanced back over to Margot. “Neuroscience and Religion. I’m also pre-med. Just recently sent out my applications, so hoping to get into a top school.” She bit her lip. “How about you?”

Margot’s eyebrows raised and she let out an impressed whistle. A librarian stuck her head out between an aisle of books at the obnoxious sound and gave Margot a scowl. Margot returned the expression to her. The librarian ducked out of sight and Margot returned her attention to Athena. “Wow, pre-med. That’s intense stuff. Good luck with your applications.” Margot wished she held such an ambition for the future, but alas, she usually didn’t plan ahead further than an afternoon. “I’m a comp-sci major. Computers and stuff.” She couldn’t be bothered to explain much further. People usually lost interest when she started to ramble on about algorithms and operating systems. “I’m working on a project due at midnight, only started on it an hour ago.” Margot explained to Athena, with a guilty look on her face. She started to rearrange her laptop on the desk in order to regain her focus on the project, and in doing so, knocked a stack of books that had been left on it to the ground. “Shit.” Margot cursed. She hastened to pick them up, kneeling beside them. But, she stopped— “What the hell?”

A book lay open on the floor. Margot watched, eyes wide, as the words on the pages were disappearing, line by line. Were her eyes deceiving her? Margot reached out to pick up the book and upon touching it felt… a bite? “Ow!” She yelled, and dropped it back to the floor.

Athena smirked at Margot’s reaction, even ignoring the librarian’s response. The librarian knew her well enough, so it’d blow over, and if she was completely honest, she didn’t especially care right now. At the moment she was more focused on the other girl. “Thanks! I like to hope for the best, so I believe that it will all work out.” She grinned, pressing her tongue between her teeth. “Oh, that’s cool! I can’t say I’m a computer expert, though I do know my way around one. Though for all that I believe in learning as much as possible about anything and everything, the world would be quite terribly boring if we all knew everything about everything, wouldn’t it?” She giggled, making sure to keep her voice as quiet as possible. They didn’t need another icy glare from the librarian. “Oh yeah? That’s not uncommon.” I never do that, was another thought that crossed her mind but that she refrained from speaking out loud. She knew that saying something like that wouldn’t do much of anything to keep the conversation going. Margot’s books fell to the ground then and Athena was about to go and help her grab them when the exclamation of pain from Margot caught her attention, and upon glancing over, Athena spotted the pages growing blank and fought away a huff of annoyance. She really didn’t have time to be dealing with this right now, but she also knew that given what she was born to do, she had no right to complain. “Here, wait!” She said, grabbing a bandaid from her bag and moved to where Margot was, handing it out to her, letting one of her rings briefly touch Margot’s skin and breathing a sigh of relief when no rash appeared. “What happened? Was there a misprint in your book, or…?” She let her voice trail off. She didn’t know what Margot thought about the supernatural, and this was as good a gauge of that as any.

Margot blinked a few times, her eyes settling on the small bite on her palm and then to the girl in front of her. How did she get here again? It was as if she had lost recollection of the exchange that had taken place only moments before. “Um, thanks,” Margot took the bandaid from her, “Sorry, I’m having a blank, who are you again?” Margot asked guiltily. This person was terribly familiar, Margot felt a kind of déjà vu just looking at her. She shook off the feeling, her attention settled back on the thin trickle of blood coming from the small bite on her hand. Margot wiped the blood on her shirt before adhering the bandaid to the wounded spot, cringing as she did so. Once she was done, she looked back to the book that had caused the injury. Perhaps it was just a papercut? The book lay open where Margot had dropped it moments before, except... “What happened to all the words?” She asked the stranger with alarm. “Tha-- That was covered in words just seconds ago!” Was she going mad? Maybe the page had just turned, or it was a different book. Margot reaches out her thumb and forefinger tentatively, using them to flip to the next page. Alas, it was as if the book was un-writing itself, words being chewed from the page. She was definitely losing her mind.

“Of course.” Athena’s brow furrowed at the girl’s next question. “I - I’m Athena.” There was always the chance that the girl had severe short-term memory impairments, but nothing else pointed to that. Margot’s next comment caused her to glance at the page. The words were disappearing. The words were disappearing and Margot couldn’t remember something. Bookwyrm. Admittedly not the worst of supernatural creatures, but still a pest. “It was.” Athena let a shocked expression cover her face. She wasn’t sure if the girl had any sort of clue what was going on, and it was best to deal with this as smoothly as possible, without drawing too much attention to all of … well, everything. “I’d not touch the book if I were you. It - those bites can do a lot of harm.” She brushed her fingertips against her nose. She had to figure out a way to get rid of the thing before it destroyed the whole book. “Did you see what bit you?”

“Athena, that’s right.” Margot pretended that she was back up to speed, embarrassed at her temporary memory loss. “Sorry, how could I forget…” How had she forgotten? At Athena’s warning, Margot tucked her hands to the side, resisting the intense urge she had to flip through the pages and inspect the book. “S-So they are bites?” Margot stuttered in confusion, glancing back down at the bandaid. “I have no clue what it was, I just know it fucking hurt. What do you think it was? Maybe some kind of book termite?” She hated to ask so many questions, always wanting to be the smartest person in the room, but none of this was logical. She’d never even heard of book termites. Athena seemed deep in thought, considering the facts. “Should we tell the librarian? Maybe this has happened before.” Yes, the librarian would know what to do.

“Yes. I mean, I have a bit of a memorable name but…” Athena frowned. “Don’t apologize.” Her voice was a bit too even, a bit too brusque, but it was important to not dwell on what was going on too much, especially if Margot had no clue what was going on. “Yes. It - you could call it that. Particularly bothersome ones, and they - well…” she motioned at the book. “They destroy books quite entirely.” She wanted to grab the book, find the creature and be over and done with but she had to be careful. Though Winston and Blanche were admittedly not the worst to out herself as a hunter in front of, you never knew - and even if someone was harmless, explaining what she was could always run the risk of too many questions. “Sometimes the librarian doesn’t know what to do, and I’ve read that these…” things “can sometimes have infestations. Which means a lot of bad news for the books in here.” She looked over to Margot. “You’ve never seen something like this before?”

Margot couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Book termites? She had suggested it almost jokingly, to find out they were real seemed like a ridiculous notion. “How do you know all this? Have you seen one of these before?” They were in a library, if a librarian didn’t know what was going on, what chance did they have? Margot hoped that Athena knew how to fumigate this pest, if not, the library might be wiped blank by morning. Margot threw her hands up at Athena’s question. “No, I can safely say, I have never seen the words on a page disappear before my eyes. Provided, I’m not much of a reader and I probably haven’t used a book in years, but this isn’t normal is it? Words don’t just backspace themselves!” Margot was rambling, becoming more unwound with every syllable. She began to pace back and forth around the table, careful not to bump the infested book.

“Like once?” Athena replied, voice rising, making it far more of a question than she had originally intended for it to be. She had seen these, and she’d read about them, but going on and on about that would likely only make Margot look at her like she had three heads. “It’s - well, I guess it happens sometimes. There’s all sorts of bugs and animals that have yet to be discovered. Trust me, I’m TA-ing for an entomology class this semester - and though I took that same class not too long ago, I find that there is still so much to learn.” Athena watched Margot move back and forth, trying to figure out a way to work through this. “No, it’s not typical. Though it’d be a heck of a way of recycling. Full honesty though? I think there’s better ways to save the planet. Give me a reusable water bottle over books that erase themselves any day of the week.” Voice still level, she continued to let her eyes follow Margot. “This book only just started doing this, right? It - it wasn’t like that when you picked it up?”

“Once?” Margot repeated. She hoped that Athena’s one off experience or TA work had taught her how to get rid of the creature, otherwise they may have to contact some kind of fumigation service. “Yes, pests that bite and consume the words of books is probably not the most efficient way to reverse the effects of climate change.” How had the topic been changed so drastically? Margot sensed that Athena was trying to divert her attention, and it had somewhat. Subconsciously, she had stopped pacing, and was now facing the other girl. Margot composed herself with a deep satisfying breath. “I don’t know when it happened, I just knocked the book off the table and that’s how it was.” At least that’s what she thought was what happened. Margot’s memory of the past few moments was coming back to her a little foggy. “Just please, tell me you have some way of fixing this, because I don’t want Ms. Shhhhhh over there,” Margot pointed back towards the librarian, “thinking I damaged university property. I’m not paying for it.” She couldn’t pay for it. Who knew how much a textbook this thick was worth.

“Yes.” Athena gave another shrug. At least the other girl had appreciated her joke - or at least it had been a temporary distraction - but she had to think fast. Athena wasn’t sure if there were more bookwyrms, and if so, if she would be able to easily find them, but if they could take care of this one at least it would do something. The librarian on duty didn’t know anything when it came to this, no matter how helpful she could be about anything academically oriented. “Yeah, they’d suck at that big time.” At Margot’s next comment, she gave a quick nod. “Makes sense. These - well, it can happen suddenly. Can I ask - what are your thoughts on capturing and getting rid of bugs?” She knew that killing it would be the best option, but she could also always give it to Anita - so long as she made clear to her professor that these could cause damage. She knew that she had to check in with Margot first, because acting too rashly in front of someone who seemed to be totally unaware wasn’t going to do either of them any favors. “No, of course. You won’t have to pay for it. It was a misprint, and in reality, the library should send it back to the publisher and ask for a refund.” A conspiratorial grin crossed her lips and she raised an eyebrow at the other girl. “I’m good at talking to adults, and I’ll take care of this. We just have to get rid of the bug first and let the library know to be on the lookout for an infestation.”

“Let’s kill em’.” Margot replied to Athena’s question. She wasn’t a fan of insects or pests of any kind, and she had no hang-ups about their extermination. “I have a can of bug spray in my dorm room. If that’d work to get rid of them, I can run up and quickly fetch it for you?” She would leave the actual killing to Athena, afterall, she had already been bitten once by the critters and had no urge to experience it again. Margot was relieved to hear that she would be free of the damage charges, it was true that she hadn’t been the cause of the destruction, and was happy that she had Athena to vouch for her. Perhaps the girl was a handy person to have around, certainly more pleasant and sociable than Margot had ever been. Athena oozed a certain confidence that was even beginning to rub off on Margot. “I trust you with this.” Margot stated nodding. “Just tell me what you need me to do.” She tacked on, in fear that she had sounded passive, scared. Which she was, but Athena needn’t know that.

“Works for me,” Athena replied with a grin. She wouldn’t actively try to kill most bugs - but this one would do more harm than good in the long run, which meant that it had to be dealt with. “That offer is super appreciated, but these don’t always respond to typical techniques. I’ve found the best way is to either trap them or just straight up deal with it right here.” She certainly wasn’t about to go track down pixies. “Bug spray is handy to have.” Athena flashed a grin to the other girl. Even if Margot had no idea what the bookwyrm was, Athena appreciated that she wasn’t about to insist that they keep it around. She knew not to count her blessings too much, given that she had far too much luck with people who didn’t seem to care what she did to supernatural pests recently, but that didn’t stop her from feeling pleased whenever someone seemed to align their views with her, even if only for a brief period of time. “Do you want me to get rid of it here? If so…” Athena bit her lip, “just make sure it doesn’t escape? It shouldn’t, but you never know. Then I can deal with it.” She stood up and quickly grabbed a cloth handkerchief. “I’m gonna get it with my boot, but you know, I’ve found that it’s best to clean up a mess. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Margot smiled back at Athena, excited that there was a plan being formed. She wasn’t sure why bug spray wouldn’t be the most effective, it had been very handy at exterminating many insects in the past, but Margot trusted Athena’s judgement. It was probably for the best, it would take a while for her to gather the insecticide from her room, and it seemed time was of the essence. “Here’s as good a place as any to get rid of it.” Margot replied, besides, she wasn’t keen on moving that to another location, not after what happened when she’d picked it up just moments before. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll try to keep it contained.” Margot wasn’t sure how she would stop the critter if it tried to make a run for it, not even knowing what it was, but she’d give it her best shot. She glanced down at Athena’s boots, a simple yet effective weapon. Margot gave Athena a nervous nod, indicating that she was prepared for whatever was to come. “Let’s do this.” She said, mostly to herself.

“Makes sense to me too.” Athena grinned. “Best not to risk it causing further damage elsewhere.” Though she never liked to owe anyone anything, she thought to herself that she would certainly make an attempt to at least take the other girl out for coffee or something after all of this was over. She wondered if she'd have questions about any of this, or if she’d just pass it off as a strange bug - which, in fairness and by definition it was, but it was far more than that too. At Margot’s words, Athena pushed herself up, rolling her shoulders quickly - glancing around the room before she dug her heel right into the bookwyrm, and if it were able to make much noise, she knew that it would be screaming in anguish right now. It deserved that much at least - even if it wasn’t a creature of the highest risk, it destroyed books, and could do a heck of a lot more damage than it had if she let it go free. It would have been a disservice to give it to Anita - she appreciated her professor, and this could do a great deal of harm to her hard work. “All done. Told you I could make it efficient.” She began cleaning off the heel of her boot with the cloth handkerchief. “What do you think? Should we go and tell our friend the librarian that there’s horridly defective books in the library?” She winked. “Happy to do the talking, if you want.”

Margot raised her eyebrows. The death of the critter was so quick, easy and painless, well not for the bug, but for them. Was Athena a professional pest killer in her spare time? Margot knew she would have many questions for the girl, but for now she was lost for words. “Nice job.” Was all she could think of. Margot glanced back at the librarian, shuddering at the thought of facing the authority figure. “Okay,” She said hesitantly, “Let’s get this over with.” Margot headed in the direction of the librarian, hoping that Athena was following behind her. She was counting on her to sweet talk the woman, God knows Margot was not charismatic enough to get away with it. “Hello.” She said upon reaching the front desk. The book merchant looked up at them. “There seems to be an issue with your books.”

“Excuse me?” The woman glared over her reading glasses with confusion and disapproval. Margot looked to Athena for help.

“Well, you helped too. It’s not all me.” Athena winked. “However yes, let’s get this over with.” Putting the dirty handkerchief into a plastic bag, she made her way behind Margot, straightening her posture as much as possible. Luckily she knew a fair number of the librarians already, and she had been on good terms with them. Giving hand-baked goods proved useful, as did complimenting their thrifted sweaters. “There is quite an issue.” Athena bit her lip, letting her eyes grow wide. “The horrid printing company sent you misprints!” She flipped the book open to one of the pages. “They sent you a book that is mostly blank. I’d check a lot of the other ones in this library, and to top it off,” she glanced over at Margot, wondering what the other girl was thinking, “we saw a bug. Big. You might want to call in someone to fumigate the place, this library is too special to incur such damages as seem to be happening. You deserve a refund for this book at least.” The librarian raised an eyebrow, though she accepted the book and began to page through it, concern spreading across her face.

“Right?” Athena did her best to keep her voice hushed. “It’s not Margot’s fault, she was studying for an important exam and then all of a sudden we saw that there were no words on the page. We don’t want anyone else to end up in our same position.” She took in a deep breath and waited for how the librarian would respond.

Margot covered her mouth and fought the urge to snigger at the exchange. Athena was turning out to be quite the actress, knowing when to exaggerate and when to hold back. A force to be reckoned with. She surely would’ve fooled Margot had she not been privy to the truth. Margot made sure to nod along with all of her claims, to ensure believability. God was she glad she hadn’t been alone in the library tonight.

“Very well, girls.” The librarian responded as she took a deep dissatisfied breath, “Thank you for bringing this issue to my attention.” As she flipped the pages, they confirmed Athena’s story. The librarian pursed her lips and locked eyes with Margot. “I think it would be best if you packed up your things,” Her eyes then fell on Athena, “Both of you. I’m going to have to close the library.”

Margot’s eyes widened. Her assignment, she had almost forgotten. “C-closed? I have an assignment due in a few hours!”

“I’m afraid so.” The librarian said solemnly. She took a large coil of keys from the desk drawer with finality. Margot looked to the other girl, who had studies of her own, sorry that this had been the outcome of this event. As she returned to their table, Margot sloppily stuffed her things back in her bag. She was beginning to accept that she would receive a bad grade. “Thanks for getting rid of that thing.” Margot said to Athena. “Maybe we could hang out sometime, you know, when there’s no bugs or books around.”

At least the librarian believed her. Athena let a small smile settle on her lips. She knew that she played the innocent part well. That most people were inclined to believe her, especially authority figures. It was how she’d gotten out of trouble throughout her schooling, and it was certainly how she endeared herself to many members of the community. This librarian was human, and Athena did appreciate her, though laying on the compliments and wide-eyed confusion never hurt.

She hadn’t, however, been expecting the librarian to take drastic actions so quickly.  “Closed?” She replied, practically in unison with Margot. Athena held her tongue between her teeth. It would be best if the library dealt with this as soon as possible, but there was a certain part of her that did feel bad for leaving Margot stranded and without a place to work. As they returned over to their table she kept watching Margot, as the other girl shoved all her school supplies into her bag. “Oh yeah, of course. Also hey - I know another good study space on campus. In the campus center? There’s a side room people don’t use much, and I know some people on student government if you want to get into an even more private room.” She looked over, “just, you know, if you want. I’d like to hang out some other time too. Though for right now we may have to stick with the books at least.”

Margot’s eyebrows raised at Athena’s suggestion. Campus center, she’d never been there, but the wifi connection couldn’t be worse than her dorm room. “Awesome, yeah, thanks for the tip! I’ll head over there now!” Maybe all hope wasn’t lost. Her spirits were already back on the up. Margot slung her packed bag over her shoulder. “Can’t wait!” Margot replied with a smile. As the girls exited the library, they exchanged cell phone numbers, promising to meet up sometime soon. Next time in a more relaxed setting.

[moondeerdotblog]

On Dragons

A brief note for short attention spans: stick around if you wanna see how I manage to seamlessly (and I do say so myself) tie together dragon mythology, weaving, and politics into one giant point about worldview diversity and problem solving efficacy (even got a Trumpian meme for y’all towards the bottom if that is more your bag).

I have always been fascinated by the common thread stretched about humanity that links up our narratives. The similitude with which humanity engineers itself by independent means.

Take dragons for example. Damn near everyone thought up dragons.

They thought ‘em up in Egypt, where Apep was the very embodiment of chaos.

Egypt also thought up my personal favorite, Ouroboros, who was a manifestation of the snake god Mehen.

They thought ‘em up in Mother Russia where it would appear three really is a magic number. One would assume their mastery of weather and water source got ‘em the gig at the bow of this Russian Viking ship.

This handsome three-headed fella, who goes by Zmey Gorynych, is from Russian folklore. He liked taking human form and seducing him some laadiees.

In Greece, dragons were hurling up namesakes. Here we see a depiction of Athena watching as the Colchian dragon, guardian of the Golden Fleece, disgorges Jason.

Greek dragons were also being raised solely for the purpose of slaying Heracles (pictured here failing miserably is the Lernaean Hydra).

The Greeks also liked stickin‘ ‘em in mosaics, as with this depiction of a sea dragon or cetus.

In China, where dragons were thought to bring good luck to those worthy of such fortune, you’ll find them carved into walls. I mean … be kinda awkward not to find dragons at Nine-Dragon Wall … am I right?

The last imperial dynasty of China, the Qing dynasty, chose to stick one of the dragon gods, the Azure Dragon, on their flag.

It wouldn’t be long before the Chinese dragon would make its way to Japan, as evidenced by this Hokusai painting,

as well as to Korea, as evidenced by the murals found at the Goguryeo tombs.

The first known portrayal of a fully modern, western dragon may be found within a medieval manuscript.

Native Americans painted dragons on bluffs. This fearsome piasa bird craved human flesh.

So what is the point of my little dragons of the world presentation? I believe it worth considering the discrepancies and commonalities amongst such cultural invention.

Let us begin with commonalities. The nearest I can tell, the single common thread among these narratives defines a dragon as a serpentine, legendary creature. Let me paint my point metaphorically.

We often speak of storytellers as though they were spinning yarn. It would not, then, be much of a stretch to reimagine them as weavers, and their creations as tapestries such as the two below.

We might think of the universally common as the warp threads running through these tapestries. Something structural. Not the good stuff.

What they all saw the same way isn’t really the interesting bit, is it? Seems to me the good stuff is what each culture thought of a little bit differently, the weft threads of the tapestries.

That which makes the Chinese dragon on the right something entirely different than the Celtic dragon on the left. Different … but no less beautiful … and the world is richer having known them both. Having known them both, what might one weave next?

Consider, then, what invention becomes possible with all things considered.

What might I be able to learn from someone with whom I share nothing but warp threads (were we each provided our very own babel fish … obviously).

What might he learn from me? After we have finished feeding our fish and gone our separate ways, how might we be affected? What ingenuity might we have unlocked for future endeavors?

Not enough? Not yet convinced of the beneficiality of discrepant embrace? Another example, then.

What must this untouched Amazonian tribe have thought possible that they hadn’t only moments earlier?

I don’t want y’all thinkin’ I only value discrepancy. We value the shared human experience, that which binds us as a species … the things about our lives, about the human condition, one finds to be as true beneath the canopy as they are in my backyard.

Without such warp threads we might find those outside the purview of our particular worldview entirely un-relatable. We might consider children one such thread. Entirely relatable.

What I find to be most valuable, however, are those weft threads … the good stuff. The stuff that tells us not who we are, but who we might be … who we might become. It is the unique that drives us to want to try out something new … that has us saying, “huh, I never thought to do that,” or “I haven’t thought of it that way before.”

It is the unique that allows us to glance up at the sky and say to ourselves, “I never knew that was possible.”

Thinking about folklore and mythology in this way got me thinking about world-views, and the current political climate in our country.

When Trump was first impeached, I became deeply invested in the plight of our nation. If I was awake, the television was tuned to MSNBC and I was absorbing all of it. The reality rejectionist platform pushed by the GOP, the militia grooming, the election theft, the fascist coup, etc., etc. You all know the story.

The things is, I was getting there weeks, if not months, before anyone I was seeing on my television (or Twitter for that matter). I began wondering why. I mean … me … a guy with a political knowledge gap the size of those Texan power bills.

Then there seemed to come a moment at which point everyone caught up. Biden was declared victorious.

I was caught up in the jubilation

and felt as though, perhaps, the whole divergency irritant had been flushed.

It hadn’t been. Coinciding with the beginning of Trump’s second impeachment trial, even more so than before, my read diverged from any other I could find. Maximum dissidence was reached immediately following the Senate’s vote to acquit, when Mitch stepped up to the podium and began speaking.

Wait … wait … that wasn’t Mitch.

Okay, that’s Mitch. So Mitch got up there and did precisely what I feared he might … he pivoted away from a doomed reality rejectionist platform. My surprise was in how everyone else responded. I have yet to find anyone anywhere not surprised by Mitch that day.

“So what, then, is your point?” you ask. “It seems as though that vuvuzela isn’t all you’ve been blowing,” you say (in a rather accusatory tone I might add). Here is my point with regard to my power to prognosticate.

I have grown convinced that I have uncovered the force at play here. It is precisely that political knowledge gap which has turned me amateur prognosticator. Without the knowledge of political norms and precedents pressing into my mental map of possibility, my imagination would not be limited to what has come before. My expectations were unflappable when met with a world that no longer made sense, while so many clung to a pre-Trumpian set of expectations. They, consciously or subconsciously (mind is tricky that way), feared the unrecognizable now.

I want to return, briefly, to that Amazonian tribe, staring up at that plane. No doubt you had a similar reaction to my own upon seeing that image, postulating what magic they must invent to explain that which they have seen.

I want you to consider something that perhaps you wouldn’t have thought to consider. Let’s reimagine magic. What if Trump were piloting that plane? (Nailed it, right?)

Of course the plane crashes. It was held aloft by norms and precedents. Say everyone survives the crash. Which group, the planites or the tribe, now possesses the most accurate view of what surrounds them?

Politically, societally, pick-your-ly … who among us has the most accurate view of what surrounds us today?

Well … I mean … you’re not wrong. We have a hell-of-a-lotta problems (and thanks for participating, couldn’t pull this off without ya) … problems requiring masterful weavers work together in fabricating solutions.

Let us, then, consider carefully whom we shall invite to sit down at our table … with which unique perspectives we shall be outfitted.

What might discrepant world-views or experience engender as we begin weaving? What might we see in the weft threads of our tapestry that we never knew was possible?

[dickd0c]

STRIKE

CHAPTER NINETEEN — “day five, part two”

A while later, Nic found herself walking out of her room and down the hall. There wasn't much to do. She didn't want to text Lucas—she'd just met him and didn't want to come off clingy. Riot was gaming (loudly) in his room. Tank was still at the gym and probably would be for a while, and Athena was definitely still pity shopping.

So she wound up in front of the door to Alpha's room, asking herself why her heart was pounding so fast and her chest was growing so tight. She slowly pushed the door open a few inches, peeking in to see Alpha seated on his bed with his laptop a few feet away from him. He had a massive bowl of popcorn beside him. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn, so the only light illuminating his face was the flashing from his laptop. It had been hours since he'd popped into her room to annoy her, so she wondered how many movies he had watched in that time.

Nic pushed the door open a bit more, sidling in before quietly shutting it behind her. She walked over to the side of the bed, Alpha not even glancing over at her, and lifted the covers so she could sit with him underneath. As she lifted her knees on to the bed, she glanced up at him, noticing something different.

On top of his nose sat a pair of black-framed glasses that reflected the movie on his laptop. Nic had never seen Alpha with glasses before, but she had to admit, he truly pulled them off. Biting her lip, She slid under the covers, sitting up with her legs extended.

Wordlessly, Alpha wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her towards him. Nic nearly fell over, surprised, but she steadied herself and found their bodies so close together their legs were touching. She was angled a little so that her back rested on the side of her chest, and she was nearly sitting on him. He then moved the laptop so it was balancing on top of both of them. Nic didn't fail to notice the arm that stayed around her waist.

It was odd sitting with him like that. He wasn't the most touchy guy in normal situations. He barely cuddled after sex, he didn't even tapped her shoulder if she was in his way. Nic's body stayed tense, feeling his arm get comfortable. He pulled her a little closer so that his hand could rest peacefully on her thigh, but that just forced Nic to resist the urge to squirm.

Nic forced herself to zero in on the movie playing on his laptop. It seemed like a comedy, which kinda surprised her. She figured that he would be the type to watch action or thrillers, but hey, everyone can use a good comedy every now and then. An actor on the screen cracked a joke, and next to her, Alpha let out a humored breath. Nic smiled to herself, feeling her body slowly relax against his.

Between scenes, the screen went black. Though it was dark in the room, it was still light enough for her to be able to see their vague reflections. She looked at Alpha, watching him adjust the glasses resting on his nose. She really did like those glasses on him.

"Damon," Nic said suddenly, as if testing the name out on her tongue. It clearly startled him, though.

"Yeah?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing behind those glasses.

"Nothing. Actually, how old are you?" Nic asked quietly, reaching for the popcorn.

Alpha quirked his eyebrows, as if caught off guard. Nic had to admit, it was a bit random. "Uhh, twenty-one."

"Oh. So you just graduated college, didn't you? Congratulations," she said with a smile, watching him nod and shrug. "What did you major in?"

Alpha gave her a weird look, like making normal conversation was new to him. "Nursing," he said, and Nic could feel his abdomen tense up against her back.

Nic's face brightened. "Oh, that's great! I have a friend who's doing nursing. She says it's really hard. Wow, so you've got your bachelor's?"

Alpha made that face again, looking steadfast at the flashing laptop screen. "Yeah... why are you questioning me, again?"

Nic huffed, turning her face away from him with a small scowl. "Because... I know Tank, Riot, and Athena's ages. I know what they're studying. I know their favorite colors too. But you? I didn't even know you wore glasses."

It was true. She knew a lot about those three. Tank was nineteen, like her, and an athletic training major. Riot was twenty and a communications major. Athena, twenty as well, was a compsci major. Nic learned all of that in one or two weeks, but she just found out the same information about Alpha after nearly two months.

"You didn't even know any of their real names until today," Alpha pointed out in a snarky voice, his abdominal muscles shifting against her back.

Nic rolled her eyes but stayed silent. Partly because he was right and that was awkward, and partly because she wasn't in the mood to get him angry.

Alpha sighed, long and loud, and Nic nearly turned around to tell him off for being unreasonably irritable when he spoke again.

"Green," he said in a quiet and raspy voice.

Nic smiled to herself. "Mine's purple," she said softly, leaning comfortably into his chest. His arm tightened around her and his thumb started rubbing circles on her thigh. A brief glance at Alpha told Nic that he was doing so absentmindedly.

"So..." Nic thought out loud, thinking of a question to ask him. She just wanted to keep him talking. "Are you going to be getting a job?"

Alpha cleared his throat, clearly unfamiliar with talking so much with someone he didn't already know well. "I'm going for my master's actually, so I won't have time for a full time job."

Nic didn't know jack shit about nursing. She had made up that friend she had mentioned.

"You really like nursing, huh?"

Alpha just shrugged, but Nic could see the small smile that he swallowed back.

Nic slowly let her head fall back to rest on Alpha's shoulder, feeling his body tense under her before it slowly relaxed. She watched the movie, smiling slightly as the actors cracked corny jokes and managed to get into sticky situations every ten minutes. Every once in a while, Alpha would chuckle lowly, making her let out a small laugh of her own. She hadn't heard Alpha laugh this much in...

Ever.

There were still so many questions she all of a sudden wanted to ask. There were so many things she didn't know about him, so many things she didn't even know about the others. Come to think of it, she'd never had a single conversation with any of them about their or her family life. Maybe a few brief ones, but the fact that Athena had homophobic parents was honestly the most she knew.

Nic looked down at the strong hand resting on her thigh, wondering what Alpha's family was like. A heavy pit in her stomach told her that it was probably a bad idea to ask.

A few minutes later, the movie came to a sappy end, where the short balding man finally kissed his stunning, sweet ex-wife. Alpha chuckled, a rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against Nic's back as his fingers reached for the laptop and fiddled with it.

"What do you want to watch next?" he asked her, catching her by surprise.

"Um... something horror, maybe," she replied.

"Alright, try not to hold my hand too hard," he said, sounding amused as he scrolled for movies.

Nic rolled her eyes. "I don't scare that easily," she proclaimed, and Alpha's hand tightened around her thigh.

"We'll see..." he mused, clicking on a movie and letting it play. He then moved the lap top between his legs. His hands shifted to Nic's hips, catching her by surprise when they lifted her and pulled her over with ease.

Nic landed between his spread legs, feelings arms wrap around her torso to pull her back tight against his flexed chest. Alpha's head dipped to the side of hers, mouth brushing against her ear as he whispered.

"If you get scared, I'll be holding you."

Nic's heart pounded against her chest, and she was sure that he could somehow hear it. She sat there, slightly dazed, trying to figure out if his words were supposed to be sexual or sweet.

The first scene played out on the screen, sharp blades slicing a woman's head clear off.

Stomach churning, Nic hoped it wasn't sexual.

As the movie progressed, Alpha's arms seemed to grow tighter around her. Nic wasn't sure if that was for her comfort or his, because every time something gory took place on screen, she'd flinch violently, but he'd gasp in shock.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be touching the popcorn," Nic nearly gagged when the killer cut open a man's abdomen and took an organ into his hands.

Alpha nodded, briefly moving an arm away from her to push the popcorn bowl away. He wrapped his arm back around her, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. He still hadn't shaved, so his light scruff scratched the sensitive skin on her neck. Nic tilted her head and rubbed her face against his ever so slightly, enjoying the feeling of his scruff against her cheek.

"What are you doing?" Alpha whispered, his hands moving to grab hold of her waist, fingers digging into her skin.

Nic froze, grateful for the dark room covering up her pink cheeks. She shifted her head away from him, feeling her embarrassment pool up in her tightening chest. She cleared her throat—"Sorry."

She couldn't see it, but Alpha frowned, looking confused. "No, I didn't mean it like that," he said, dipping his head back down to rest in her neck. He then winded as a body fell from forty stories up in the movie, flinching as it landed with a loud thud. "Shit..." he muttered into Nic's neck, burrowing nearly his entire face into it so that just his eyes could peek out and see what happened next.

Nic laugher lightly, moving her hands to rest on top of each of his and give them a light squeeze. "Look who's scared now," she teased, feeling his hands tighten their grip on her.

"I was just pretending to make you feel better," he responded arrogantly, and Nic could practically hear his smirk.

"You keep telling yourself that," she cooed, moving her hands back to rest in her lap.

Alpha didn't respond. He just pulled her tighter against him, if that was even possible. Nic grinned to herself despite the gory scenes before her eyes, catching herself sometimes flinching on purpose so that his fingers would rub circles on her skin.

She never thought he'd touch her like that. It was new, it was different. It was nice.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Daniel Michaelson: Embrace

(final prompt for @whumptober2019: Embrace! Since yesterday’s was such a sweet, genuine bit of brotherly loyalty and love and comfort, today is... well, it’s the exact opposite of that. TW: there’s some pretty much outright torture here. Blood, knives, stress positions, dehumanization, it’s all here, folks. Abraham Denner is very, very good at what he does - and what he does is terrible)

“Did you think you were my first?” 

Abraham sits back in the folding chair, looking down at the slim, sharp knife he holds in one hand, chosen expressly for today's purpose. The end of it is still red, and he tilts the knife down, watching a single drop coalesce at the tip, swell and grow fat, shimmer in the dim light, and finally drop to the ground.

There is a tiny spot that briefly darkens where it lands and then is indistinguishable from all the other blood soaked into the earth here - insignificant, like the puppy’s life.

A life he has broken and remade in his own image.

Red is kneeling, in the dim light and cured-meat smell of the smokehouse. Kneeling and bent totally at the waist, folded in half with his arms out in front of him, forced straight until they pull, a little, at his shoulders by the ropes cutting hair into his wrists that tie him to the hooks in the wall near the ground.

Bram reaches down to pull his fingers against one of those ropes, then lets it go, and smiles at the twang and the groan from the back of Red's throat, forced unwillingly from behind the muzzle.

"Oh, right, your shoulder isn't quite healed yet, is it? Silly me. Well, I suppose we should keep talking, hm? Or I should. You can't really hold up your end of the conversation today, can you?"

Red doesn't even try to look up, and Bram smiles at the sheen of sweat on those muscled shoulders, along the line of his arms, the trickles of sweat that run over the clear shadows along his ribcage.

It's hot in here, today.

Abraham feels it as a gentle, comforting warmth, but the sweat on Red is a giveaway that he feels the heat very intensely. 

Funny. Bram never feels warm unless he’s in direct sunlight.

Red’s hair is a riot of mess everywhere that it isn't plastered to his forehead and neck with the sweat or the leather isn't pushing it in. Abraham’s are caught, for a moment, by the metallic glint of the little padlock laying against the back of his head.

He smiles at the curve of the grid he can see along Red's cheek and jaw, the way it's red there, too, smeared around from Bram's thumbs. 

But that doesn't hold a candle to his back. 

His back is a beautiful mess. Abraham's been working on it for the better part of two hours now, carving into the skin with a steady hand and a practiced eye for anatomy. Never too deep, never even grazing anything he can’t live without. 

You can't see the design through all the blood, but you will, soon enough - and when it scars Bram will get to feel the twisting patterns he’s made himself, run his fingertips over them and watch Red hold himself so carefully, perfectly, obediently still. 

For now, kneeling and prostrated and bloody, he looks like a flagellant. As though he’s a pilgrim out of time, a penitent being bloodied in purification, bleeding out the weight of his sins before God. 

Bram Denner is not God, of course.

The puppy that used to be Daniel Michaelson prays to him now at night, though, and that's close enough.

“Did you think I was born with this knife in my hand? That I sprang fully formed from my father's forehead like some slightly less muscular and significantly prettier Athena?"

Red doesn't answer - but then he can't, with his voice locked away. The only sound from him is the harsh breathing through his nose and low, ragged sounds coming from the back of his throat as the position he's in stretches his shoulders just a little too much and aggravates the still-aching too-recently dislocated joint.

Bram only left it like that for a few hours, but these things take time to heal, and Bram has never been a fan of letting old wounds heal before creating new. 

The sweat runs into the cuts all over his back and makes them sting, no doubt. Maybe Red can't even feel it any longer, though. 

Doesn't matter.

"No, this is the kind of thing you discover in yourself and then cultivate, puppy. You understand, right? You sure showed me some hidden talents that we got to cultivate together, hm?" 

He kicks out his legs, landing a glancing blow into the puppy's shoulder, and Red coughs behind his teeth, whining a little at the ache and the pain as he inadvertently tries to force his jaw open and fails.

"You paying attention, puppy?" 

Red doesn't even try to look up, nodding with jerky, dazed movements. Honestly, he's probably lost enough blood by now to be feeling pretty out of it - and he has that trick where he leaves his head when the muzzle is on, too. Abraham hates that trick. But the only thing that seems to prevent it is the headphones, and he wants little Red to really hear his voice today, in whatever part of him can still hear.

“Good boy. I know what you’re thinking. Why is this happening? What possible mistake did you make to earn this punishment, what lesson must you learn? What rule did you break?” Bram laughed, the deep, low little rumble of sound that he used to charm the bodies out there in the world, all of them collections of organ and bone waiting to be made better, to be fixed.

 But Bram was only one man, and even his prodigious skills could only be utilized on so many people at once. Besides… he’d hate to be distracted away from the puppy. 

Bram was very devoted to the puppy.

“Let me reassure you, little Red, you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong this time.”

Red made a sound like a sob that came from somewhere deep within his chest, giving a single full-body shake, and fuck, he was so beautiful like this. Bram leaned over and tilted his head, looking carefully for a clean spot of skin. It was hard to find but eventually he located what he was looking for and smiled. 

“This isn’t about punishment, little Red. This is about honing a craft. I had to learn these skills that make good boys like you over… years… You know, we all have something we’re good at, but you have to really practice to turn a basic talent into a real skill. You’ve been so good lately, but I can’t just… waste these talents just because you’re getting so good at keeping me all kinds of happy, you know?” 

Bram leans down, thoughtfully, and slides his hand along the metal muzzle that locks Red's voice up, smiling at the pinpricks (not pain, not really - Bram never feels much pain at all) as his thumb finds the spots he turned into little jagged edges that pop up from the wires to cut and poke and tear. When he lifts Red's chin, he finds empty blue eyes staring up at him from above the muzzle, hair hanging over them that goes unnoticed. 

Bram hums appreciatively at the sight. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, just taking it in. 

Wide, nearly sightless blue eyes under sweat-soaked red hair. The slight unconscious nearly inaudible whines, vibrations Bram can feel against his fingers when he presses them to Red's throat. The red smears where his skin is retorn every time the muzzle goes on or off.

Nate never appreciates it - he’ll be angry once Bram finally lets the puppy back in the house, he’s usually angry these days anyway. He’s been pulling away from Bram’s kisses, acting differently. It takes longer - and takes more incentive - to make Nate be his black-haired prince, his true love, like he used to be. It’s confusing and troubling to Bram, but he tries not to think about it, too much. It had taken him months to hunt Nate down when he ran - and he can’t run, not here in the middle of the woods with his bad leg. There’s nowhere to go.

He’ll come around, Bram is sure of it - it just might take a while. But as long as Red is here, Nate will never, ever try to leave… that, at least, he’s sure of. 

Nate just doesn’t understand, is all, because he’s not really a Denner yet. Those things take time, but he’ll get there, he has to. He doesn’t grasp how all of this builds, layer on layer, into a perfect portrait of exactly what something like Red was born to be.

The dim light that comes through the cracks in the wood slats makes Red’s blood too vibrant, nearly surreal. It looks like paint, like his puppy is a Renaissance painting with those bright blue eyes and that wavy red hair. He’s pure unadulterated beauty in every line, scar, and bruise. 

Red had cried when they started in here, but he was far past tears now. Now he was blank, and empty, locked inside his head just a little further than Abraham Denner could follow. He would be back, later, and the pain would still be there for him, to shape him.

He didn’t need to be here to learn his lessons.

All Bram needed for those was his body.

“I have made you,” Bram murmured. “I have made you from the dust of your life and you are my creation, little Red, and I call you good.”

Maybe he was a little bit of a god, after all.

He slid his hand over Red’s hair, feeling the damp softness of it in between his fingers, before forcing his head back down until Red’s chin was pushing into his collarbone, baring the back of his neck to Abraham’s eyes.

A bit of clear, unbloodied skin. A blank canvas, ready to be painted. A piece of creation, like the dark and formless sea before it split to make the heavens.

“You belong to me,” He says softly, marveling at it, at the miracle of coincidences it took to bring little Red into his orbit at just the right time, the right place, when he needed something to help him hold onto Nate, when he had gone too long without someone to remake. “All of you, forever, belongs to me. You’re all mine.”

He moves his chair closer, watching Red shift around, trying in vain to find a way to take some of the pressure of the position he was trapped in off his knees and thighs. 

“Poor thing, your feet went numb ages ago, am I right? And your legs must ache. Don’t worry, I’m almost done. Just one more thing, puppy, and then we’ll go inside and get you all washed up and bandaged, okay?”

If Red even hears him now, he doesn’t react, only continues breathing harshly and quietly towards the floor. If he could talk, Bram thinks cheerfully, he would probably tell Bram he was busy being someone else.

It’s a neat little trick, but it never lasts long after the muzzle comes off - and when Red comes back, he feels all that pain he worked so hard to escape. 

Bram moves the knife, with its thin, razor-sharp blade, to the back of his puppy’s neck. The clear skin splits apart like darkness and light - like the land and the sea - opening and welling up with the same brilliant red blood. Bram carves two careful straight lines at diagonal angles that meet at the top, connects them with a shorter line through the center. 

Red groans again, but it’s fainter, now - more distant and hazy. He’s begun to shake helplessly, and Bram frees his hand from Red’s hair to rub soothingly at his shoulder while he lowers the knife to carve again. “Good, you’re doing so very well, my sweet boy. Just a little more.” 

Another straight line, vertical this time. Then a half-circle curved to meet the line at either end. He continues to soothe Red with one hand while cutting him with the other, and feels the man’s shaking grow more and more noticeable under his hand. 

He’s pushed him nearly too far, right up to the line of what his body will take before it simply drops him into unconsciousness in a desperate attempt to escape. That’s all right; Bram knows how to walk the line very carefully. He learned that skill a very, very long time ago.

Finally, below the first two letters, he carves the final one. One straight line up, one diagonal line to the side and down, then another straight line up. The blood is smeared and running down the sides of his neck now. Bram leans down to lick it up, feeling Red shudder but try to hold himself still.

He doesn’t try to pull away, even like this.

“Good. Very good, sweet boy. We’re all done now.”

Bram looks over his handiwork with a satisfied eye, then moves to the ropes that hold Red’s arms out, taking his sharp little knife and slicing right through them until the wrists are freed, wrapped in deep red welts that will bruise, in time.

Red bruises so very, very easily. Something about pale redheads, Bram thinks. Makes him irresistible when you can see all those pretty marks.

Red falls forward without the tension to hold him, collapsing onto the ground with little choked-off cries of pain as he tries to pull his arms back and his shoulders - stretched for hours - protest any attempt to bring them back to his sides. He can’t unfold his legs, and just rolls onto his side to take the pressure off, trying to sob without opening his mouth even as his eyes are still glazed, fogged-over, and empty.

Bram lets the knife drop to the side and kneels down himself, bundling the bloodied redhead into his arms, heedless of the blood he smears, enjoying the little hisses of further pain as he presses his palms against the new cuts along his back. 

Red doesn’t fight him, and that’s perfect - just curls up against him, head under his chin, clutching weakly at Bram’s shirt with shaking fingers, whining and pleading behind his teeth. Bram knows the different sounds so well by now, has beautiful dreams about them. 

“Don’t worry, you’ve been so good,” He soothes. “No more for today. No more. I’ll take you inside and get you all clean. We’ll bandage you right up, you can take a little nap on your mat, then you’ll get some dinner made for Nate and I tonight, hm? You were so good, helping me keep my skills up. So very, very good, little puppy. Do you know you’re my very good boy?”

There’s a movement of the soft sweaty red hair as Red nods against him, fingers finally able to get a good grip in his shirt, twisting into the fabric the way a child might hold onto their mother. Red’s eyes are closed and he breathes, in and out, in stutters and stops.

He's very nearly unconscious, and it makes him weak and pliable in a way that sends sparks of joy through Bram's mind.

Bram smiles, sitting back into the dirt, keeping the other man sitting right in his lap, letting himself be soaked in the blood. He lets his fingers run over the new letters carved on Red’s neck - A, D, N - and licks the blood off them enjoying the sparks of life on his tongue, the taste of pain and misery and I give up that has been forced into Red’s veins. 

"Oh, you sweet thing.” Bram presses a kiss into his hair, feels Red boneless against him, maybe even pushing himself a little more against the cool skin in the baking hot smokehouse, taking the comfort Bram chooses to give with gratitude, because this is better than the pain, and it’s all the choice he gets. 

He takes Red by the muzzle that runs along his jaw and tilts his head back, leaning in to kiss the sweat-soaked forehead, feels the flutter of Red’s eyelashes against his cheek when he nuzzles into the side of his face.

One of Red’s hands moves up to touch Bram’s neck, to curl around it, to pull him back to kiss his forehead again, wordlessly, whining low in his throat, desperate for any sense that the pain is really over, that Bram can be kind if only for a second.

He’s praying for mercy, Bram thinks with a laugh bubbling in his throat. I think you’ll find I can be a merciful god. The joke would be wasted now; he'll have to tell Red later, when he comes back to himself. 

Red won't laugh - but he'll give that tremulous, trembling little smile that never reaches his frightened eyes, and that's even better. 

Bram smiles, and kisses each closed eyelid. Red slowly starts to truly relax, to trust that for this moment, at least, it’s over. 

“You're not my first,” Bram breathes into his ear. “Not by a long shot.”

He tucks a little bit of red hair behind one ear, feels Red's pounding heart start to slow. Those empty blue eyes look right into his, and he wonders what little Red can even see. 

“You’re not my first, and you won’t be my last, little Red, but I think you might be my best."

[satans-little-helper33]

Solangelo Fanfiction

This piece takes place starting at the end of Nico’s scene at the end of Blood of Olympus.

Main Characters: Will Solace and Nico DiAngelo

Nico’s encounter with Eros had cracked him wide open and left him feeling vulnerable and broken, forced to face his own reality and feelings, exposed in front of Jason; he was forced to share his darkest secret for a god’s amusement. Nico now knew he could trust Jason to keep it to himself, though, and he was beginning to realize that in order to crawl out of his self-constructed prison, his barriers first had to be torn down.

The feelings that had haunted him for so long—the shame, the fear, the denial—caused by the mentality of the 1940s he’d grown up in began to fade away. 

He was no longer that scared little boy who had been enraptured by the presence of a powerful demigod, and now that he had finally confessed his past feelings to Percy, Nico felt that he could finally move forward. 

Hades’s son made his way back down the hill to where Will was waiting for him, wearing scrubs,  jeans, and a mischievous/crooked smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Sorry I didn’t come visit you in the infirmary,” Nico said, wearing the hint of a smile.

“It’s alright, I forgive you,” Will Solace said, his mouth set tight but laughter in his eyes, like he was trying to stay mad at Nico and failing.

“You wanted me to stay there--”

“For at least three days. Doctor’s orders.” Will started to lead Nico back toward the infirmary.

“Really, I’m Fine,” Nico began, but then his knees buckled and Will hoisted him back up.

“Uh huh. Right. Let’s get you to a bed.”

Even after Coach Hedge’s nature magic/sports drink concoction, which had sustained Nico for a while, the arduous task of shadow-travelling the Athena Parthenos across the world had caught up with him again.

When Nico opened his eyes again, he was in the infirmary half sitting, half lying on a piece of furniture that was somewhere between a bed and a stretcher. 

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” a familiar voice intoned, “have some ambrosia.”

Will sat on a chair beside the bed; the room of the infirmary he was in was long and lined with similar bed-stretchers, separated by white curtains that shimmered in different colors when they were moved.

Several other beds were occupied with demigods sporting now-relatively-minor injuries left over from the battle with Gaia and the monster army: a daughter of Hecate 2 beds over was glaring at her leg in a cast as if she was insulted by the inconvenience.

Nico turned back to Will, and noticed that beside the bed there was a small table with a baggie of ambrosia squares on it. Nico reached out to pick one up but encountered a familiar problem: his fingers passed right through the baggie and ambrosia, as if he was becoming one with the shadows permanently. His hand appeared fuzzy around the edges, as if he was dissolving.

“Uhh, maybe if I try again--”

Will frowned, then sighed. “This is what happens when you overextend yourself. Here, let me help you.” He picked up a square and held it out to feed Nico.

Nico leaned back. “What are you doing?”

“No arguing. Open up.” Solace said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Will took none of Nico’s shit. That was one of the things Nico found most endearing and annoying about him; no matter how hard the son of Hades tried to push him away, Will simply refused to let him.

Nico took the ambrosia, and after a few moments they looked back at his hand, which seemed to be coming back into sharper focus.

“You had me worried there, diAngelo,” Will said, smiling, and briefly gripped his hand to check if it was now solid. Day of the Dead skeletons tapped out a jig in Nico’s chest.

“You were worried...about me?” Nico said, still wrapping his mind around the fact that Will had wanted a death demigod to visit him in the infirmary.

“Get some sleep.” he said, closing the ziplock bag

“I’m not tired.” 

“Well you will be in a second. CLOVIS,” he called out. The calf-like son of Morpheus appeared around the corner and Will told him “we’ve got another stubborn one,” throwing a teasing smile Nico’s way.

Clovis yawned. “I’m all over it,” he said, and--despite Nico’s protests--touched his forehead. The son of Hades drifted off into a deep sleep.

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

Nico awoke feeling more rested than he had in weeks. 

He quickly sat up, suddenly worried, because the last time he’d felt this rested, he’d been asleep for three days.

Nico stopped a passing Apollo healer. 

“How long have I been out??”

The healer scratched his chin, trying to estimate. “About 6 hours?” He walked off.

Will walked into the infirmary, arguing with a Demeter camper; something about herbs and supplies? He turned and spotted Nico.

“Well, good evening, sleepyhead! How was your nap? Feeling better?”

“I think 6 hours is slightly more than a nap.” Nico retorted.

“Well, count yourself lucky that Clovis has learned to control his powers better. A while ago he put a camper out for a week by accident.” Will made his way toward him. “Can you stand?”

“Um, let’s find out.” Nico swung his legs over the bed and got up. Aside from stumbling a little, he was feeling much better. Nico marvelled at the healing powers of sleep.

As if he read his mind, Will said, “Oh yeah, sleep has endless benefits.”

Nico twisted his skull ring. “Hey, I came in here at about noon, which means--”

 The conch horn signalling the dinner feast echoed across the valley. Will grinned. “I think that’s our cue.”

The Half Blood campfire that night still carried with it an aura of elation spurred from disbelief, that they had won the battle against Gaia and made allies with the Romans, and a sort of desperation to feel alive brought about by all of those who had died in the process. Nico felt a pang for Leo, though he had a strange feeling that his death wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.

Will sat by him at the bonfire, the Apollo cabin on his left and Nico on his right, leaving Nico unsure as to whether Will had sat next to him or his cabin. He chastised himself for hoping that it was the former.

The enchanted flames in the brazier blazed brightly with the energy of the campers, and Nico felt the warmth flare in his heart as he cast a glance at the son of Apollo, the light from the fire reflecting off of his blonde hair. 

Nico lay in his bunk that night after the campfire, staring up at the ceiling of the Hades cabin that was inset with precious stones. He quickly realized that there was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, and he climbed out of bed. The whole room was drenched in liquid shadows, and despite his exhaustion after the journey shadow travelling with the Athena Parthenos, Nico stepped forward and became one with the darkness with ease.

He melted from the shadow of a tree, finding himself by the lakeside at the edge of Camp Half-Blood. A full moon cast a pale glow on the night. Nico walked down to the sand and sat down; the silence was intoxicating, and Nico closed his eyes and listened to the gentle lapping of small waves against the shore. Suddenly he felt something nearby, heard the brush rustle, and wondered whether the cleaning harpies had come to eat him for being out past curfew. Nico drew his Stygian sword, which seemed to pull at the darkness like a magnet, and got ready to defend himself. What actually emerged from the brush was Will, who abruptly spotted Nico’s sword and laughed quietly. 

“Expecting a fight?”

Nico quickly sheathed his sword. “What are you doing out here?” He noticed for the first time that Will had something in his hands.

He held up two goblets. “Mind if I join you?”

Will was the only one at camp who was not blatantly wary of him; after several years as an outcast, the effect felt foreign.

Will sat down next to the son of Hades and spoke to one of the goblets--“Pomegranate juice”--and handed it to Nico as the cup filled with garnet liquid. 

“Are these--” Nico began.

“Glasses from the dining pavilion? Yeah. I snuck a couple out before dinner ended.” He wore his trademark mischievous smile. “I noticed you asked for pomegranate juice at dinner.” Nico felt his face grow warm as Will turned to his own cup and requested ginger beer. Soon the glass was filled with amber.

“It...reminds me of my mom.” Nico said quietly. “Not Persephone, ironically. When Bianca, my mom, and I...” his voice caught on Bianca’s name “when we lived in New Orleans, I was little, but I remember her giving us pomegranate juice on special occasions. It was a tough thing to find where we lived, so she would only have it on celebrations or...when my dad came to visit. I was just a baby when she was murdered.”

He stared down in silence at his drink.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. Bianca, your mom, none of it,” Will said gently.

“I know,” Nico muttered, his voice nonetheless doubtful.

Will placed his hand on Nico’s, and he tensed, ready to pull away, but then instead turned his palm up to hold Will’s. 

Nico turned his head to look up at Will, his pale blue eyes shining in the moonlight, almost periwinkle, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Will murmured, his gaze taking Nico in. Will looked into his dark eyes as if he could perceive all of him, good and bad, and was still enraptured by what he saw. 

Will reached out hesitantly, as if to touch Nico’s face, but stopped before, gaging his reaction, and when the son of Hades didn’t pull away, he brushed the ink-black hair out of his face.

Involuntarily, Nico’s eyes closed and his heart began to race. His life had, for years, been spent more with the dead than the living. No one had touched him tenderly for what felt like eons, not since Bianca, and only now did he realize how starved for physical affection he had been.

Will’s gaze moved from Nico’s eyes to his lips, and he leaned in carefully as if approaching a wild animal. Nico closed the distance, and as their lips met, his life bloomed before him like a chrysanthemum opening layer by layer. Suddenly Nico could see a future before him that wasn’t ruled by death and solitude. Unnoticed by either of them, a dead mouse at the edge of the forest was brought back to life and scampered off into the trees.

[strongheartmaid]

oh look, my monster of a fic. Let us lead off with this being an entire AU or Canon doesn’t live here anymore (get back here you, Sea Dragon)

Behind a cut because this is huge

Venus made her way to the scrying chamber, the room within Mount Olympus that the Pantheon could go to gaze upon the waters and view the lives of the mortals below. It had been some time since this room had been used - as the doors to the room groaned in protest as she pushed them open and strode inside. She made her way over to the pool and settled besides it, waving her hand over the waters and watched it ripple until an image came through. A frown marred her elegant features and only seemed to deepen as she watched the images flitting across the watery screen. With a wearied sigh, she waved her hand over the water again, dismissing the images. She could feel the start of a headache form as she tried to process what she had just seen. She paused a moment and turned her head, her eyes locking on to see who joined her in the chamber. "You seem... displeased," came a soft melodic voice from the doorway before the voice's owner slipped inside the room. She made her way over to where Venus sat and settled near her. She waved her hand over the waters, intent on searching, watching something, someone. "Displeased seems a tad too diplomatic," Venus muttered darkly. Her gaze drifted back to the waters to see what her companion was viewing, before dismissing it as unimportant and raised her head to look at her companion. "Checking in on that little mortal of yours, Thetis?" she asked, a teasing tone to her voice. "He's hardly a little nor a simple mortal, Venus," Thetis returned, a slight bite to her words as she spoke. She turned her gaze away from the waters and then at Venus. "He's the mortal incarnation of my lord." A silent 'my husband' hung in the air between them. Venus visibly startled and stared at Thetis before her gaze returned to the waters. Her eyes gleamed silver as she read the Cosmos of the youth in question. She raised her head, her expression stunned as she looked at Thetis. "How long?" Thetis was silent for a long moment, a look of pain and sadness crossing her features. "I only just learned from our kin two months past that my lord was reborn," she said, a broken note in her voice. "Then why so sad?" Venus asked. "Rejoice for he lives, little queen of the oceans." "Aye, he lives," she began, tears streaming down her cheeks, "but he remembers naught of who he truly is." Venus sighed softly, reaching over to place a hand on Thetis's arm. Privately, she cursed the Fates for separating the pair. "That may be, little fish," she said, an affectionate nickname for the other woman. "But nothing says you can not go to his side and coax his memories back to him." "Do you think it's possible?" Thetis asked, looking hopeful. "I do," Venus said, smiling at the younger goddess. "Now, go. Be with him." Thetis nodded before taking her leave of the elder goddess. Hopefully, she'd be able to help him regain his memories - it would be nice to be by her lord and husband's side once more. "Causing mischief, wife?" Hephaestus asked as he approached his wife from behind. She slanted her gaze towards her husband, a small tight smile on her features. True, she was married to him but, she let out a soft mental sigh, it wasn't by her choice. It was one of Zeus's many attempts at trying to control her, to control Hephaestus (why he needed to be controlled, she didn't know, but then she wasn't in a position of power like Zeus was). "No," she said finally, turning to look at him. Her expression softened a moment and she rose to make her way over to him. "No mischief, just trying to reunite a pair of lovers." Hephaestus nodded briefly, raising one soot-stained hand to brush a lock of golden hair off her face, accidentally smearing the soot on her face as he did so. "I see," he said softly. Venus raised her hand to touch his, uncaring of the soot for a moment. "Hard at work?" she asked. Hephaestus let out a wearied sigh and leaned against his wife for a moment. "Yes, I am," he said. "Well, not at the moment, obviously. I needed some fresh air - it was starting to get claustrophobic down in the smithery." Venus nodded, before moving his arm so it was draped around her shoulders. "I'll help you walk back to our chambers," she said quietly. "You'll need your rest before you return to that lair of yours." "Is that concern in your voice I hear, Urania?" he asked, curiosity clear in his voice. She rolled her eyes at the name chosen. "Of all my titles, you have to pick that one," she drawled. "And.. maybe." He gave a low chuckle at her snark before his expression warmed at her brief confession. "I promise, I'll rest," he said quietly. "Of course, there was one thing you didn't tell my dear aunt." "Oh, and what's that?" Venus asked. Why was she just now getting an unsettled feeling? "I don't suppose you noticed that the mortal that houses my uncle has a twin brother," he said lightly. "No riddles, Klytotékhnēs," she hissed. "Direct or not at all." "Oh, you take all the fun out of life, my dear," he sighed. "The mortal known as Julian Solo, and yes I did go look that up in Father's statuary, my dear, has a twin brother, Sean Solo. Sean Solo just happens to be my other uncle." Venus froze midstride, turning her gaze on her husband. "WHAT?!" she exploded, a stunned expression on her features. "What do you mean he's your.. Oh no," she groaned. He nodded slowly. "Oh yes, my lady wife. You just sent Thetis to awaken Poseidon, which may trigger Hades to awaken as well." Venus closed her eyes and silently started to count to ten in Greek. 'éna dýo tría...' she began before she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Please tell me Athena's not awake." He let out a soft relieved sigh. "No, no sign of my sister being awake yet." "Thank the Fates for small miracles," she said, looking relieved as well. "I'm not sure the mortal realm could handle a Holy War of those proportions if all three were awake at the same time." "Wife," Hephaestus began, giving her a mildly stern look. "Why in the name of my father's lightning bolts did you have to go and say that? Do you like tempting the Fates?" "As the mortals would say, my dear husband, oh crap," Venus groaned.

-

Thetis stood on the shoreline below the Grecian summer home of the Solo family, her eyes staring out into the distance, listening to the waves as they crashed upon the shore. Somewhere, deep below those waves was Atlantis, was her home - one she hadn't seen since the time of myth or was it later than that, she mused but decided she truly didn't care, either way - it had been far too long since she had seen the glistening white marble buildings, heard the laughter of her people. She let out a wearied sigh, praying that whatever time had done to her (their) home, that it would be easy to repair. That would be the one drawback to being awake in this time - very few mortals would know the ancient crafts needed to repair any damage (for that matter, she wasn't sure *if* there were any stone masons still practicing their art in this modern age). She quietly walked along the shoreline, trying to figure things out. So much to do, so very little time to do it in - especially if this was to be done before Athena awoke and made a mess of things, again. A part of her did truly love her niece - but there was another part that grew vexed by how quick she was to assume the worst of people, especially her male relations (particularly her two uncles). She paused, her head turning to look behind her as she heard the rapid approach of hoofbeats and the raucous sound of male voices and laughter. She let out another sigh - terrific, just what she didn't need as she tried to come up with some sort of plan on what to do.

 "Ikki, no fair," cried a young male voice as they struggled to keep up with their older cousin. It wasn't quite fair that their cousin was doing so much better at riding horses than they were.

 A delicate frown crossed her lips as she tried to recall where she had heard that name before. No matter - wasn't truly important, she thought as she quickly ducked behind a rocky outcropping, not wanting to be seen just yet. The first youth - the one possibly named Ikki - rode by, his deep indigo hair wild. She could feel his Cosmos from where she was, and that left her unsettled - it was far stronger than she had ever imagined a mortal's to be. She shuddered, trying to quell the feel of terror rising in her before she spied the two youths coming behind. The first was fair of face (almost too pretty for a man), with deep jade green eyes and rich green hair. She startled a moment, getting a feel of his Cosmos as he rode past where she was hidden - why hadn't Venus told her about this? How was this even possible? Both..? But then the one she was waiting for appeared in view and a soft sigh escaped her. He hadn't changed much in their time apart - well, maybe his hair was a little lighter and his eyes a little bluer but it was still him, she would know her beloved no matter what form he took. If they just said their names, she'd be able to confirm that she was where she was supposed to be - and then came the fun of trying to come up with a good story to explain who she was and why she was there, she thought a small bubble of despair welling up for a moment.

 "Not my fault that you're slow, Sean," Ikki called over his shoulder before slowing his horse down so his twin cousins could catch up to him. He smiled warmly at Sean, reaching over to ruffle the windswept green locks. He chuckled, a rich warm sound as Sean tried to bat his hand away. "How you holding up back there, Julian?" he asked.

 Julian just gave a thumbs up and a smile. "Although, I'm not sure Aegaeus could handle another run like that," he said, rubbing his horse's neck and whispering soothing nonsense in his ear.

"So, why did you name your horse that anyway?" Ikki asked as the trio quietly rode together, allowing the horses to recover from the race across the beach that they had done.

 Julian gave an absent one-shoulder shrug in response to his cousin's question. "Just felt right," he said, still unsure why he named the horse that other than the feeling of it being *right*, familiar even.

Thetis tilted her head as she tried to remember why Aegaeus sounded familiar - oh, right, his epithet from the town of Aegae since he had that gorgeous temple there. She'd have to go there later, check on the status of the temple (hopefully, still in one piece, if not, she was going to have severe words with that darling niece of hers) and leave an offering to her beloved there.

"Couldn't you have named it something easier to pronounce?" Ikki asked, quirking a brow.

 "We can't all have something as easy to pronounce such as Phoenix," Julian snarked back. "Besides, I don't hear you complaining over the name Sean gave his horse. Moiragetes is more of a mouthful than Aegaeus." He paused when he heard a feminine giggle coming from behind a rock. He quirked a brow before quietly riding his horse over to where he heard the sound coming from, intent on finding out the source of the noise. "By all that's holy..." he breathed to himself as he stared down into ocean blue eyes. He dismounted from his horse and slowly approached the maiden. "I know you.. but how.." he murmured.

 Thetis just stared up into his blue eyes, silent, unsure of how to answer. "It's.. a long story, fantastical even," she offered up after a long moment of silence.

 "Perhaps, then, you could tell it over a cup of coffee?" he asked, offering her his hand.  Ikki watched the scene play out from his spot on the back of his horse. Wonderful, there was his cousin picking up strange girls. "Don't get any ideas, Sean," he muttered to the younger twin.

 Sean just fixed his cousin with a Look. "And what ideas are those, Cousin?" he asked, a faint bite to his words. "Picking up strange women on the beach," he said before guiding the pair over to Julian and his mystery lady. "Perhaps introductions are in order?" he suggested. "Ah, yes," Julian said before gesturing to himself. "Julian Solo. This is my younger," Sean's voice cut in with an annoyed "I'm your twin, you blithering idiot", "brother, Sean. And this bruiser of a teddy bear," which earned a warning growl from the youth in question, "is our cousin Richard Patton, but he prefers the nickname of Ikki for whatever reason." "Thetis," she said, bowing her head slightly, a soft smile on her lips. "As in the goddess?" Sean asked, curiosity welling up. Strange how familiar this woman was - but he could have sworn that he had never met her before.. Thetis just smiled, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Well, that's a rather interesting story. I believe your brother already offered me a drink in exchange for telling it..?" - "So," she said, holding a warm cup of coffee in her hands, as they sat outside on the balcony of the estate. "Where do you want me to begin my tale?" she asked. "I find a tale told from the beginning is oft the best course of things," Julian said. He took a sip of coffee before setting it back down on the table. "Well, in answer to your question before, Sean," she said. "Yes, as in the goddess," she continued. "Or rather, as fantastic as it may sound, I am she of who you speak." Ikki stared at the blond before rising and heading inside. He returned after a moment, setting a bottle of rum on the table with a decided thunk. "I have a feeling we're going to need something stronger than mere coffee if what you're saying is true, Thetis." Thetis smiled as if she had been prepared for this and closed her eyes. A shimmer of light surrounded her before it vanished, revealing her in her Holy Cloth - the Crimson Scales of the Mermaid.  Julian stared, stunned. "Right," he said, before grabbing the bottle of rum and pouring a healthy dose into his cup. He drank it slowly. "So, the Greek gods and goddesses do exist still." She nodded, reaching up to remove the helm and set it on the ground next to her. "A few of my kin do incarnate as mortals and remain unaware of their true nature. However, there comes a time when there's a need for them to awaken, to remember who they truly are." She took a sip of her coffee, a curious expression crossing her features after she swallowed. "Is this drink always this bitter?" "Not always," Sean said as he reached over to drop some sugar into Thetis's cup. "That should help a little." "Thank you," she said, taking a sip and nodding. "Better but I'm afraid I'll never quite like the taste of coffee." She set her cup down and looked at the trio, trying to figure out how to explain the next bit of information she was about to tell them. "So, these mortals that are gods or goddesses unawares, how do you awaken them, if as you say, the need arises? How do you know they are who they are?" Julian asked. Thetis let out a wearied sigh. "That, as you mortals would say, is above my paygrade in understanding. It has something to do with one's Cosmos," she said. "It's basically a recreation of the Big Bang within your soul, at least that's how Zeus explained it once. It mostly went over my head once Apollo started to add on to the explanation." "So, okay, let's go with the Cosmos can tell who's who," Ikki said slowly. "Does that mean you're able to read our Cosmos, if we have any?" "All mortals have it - just not all mortals are aware of it," she said diplomatically. "But to answer your unspoken question, yes, I can sense it in all three of you." "Well, that's a good thing, right?" Sean asked, sipping his coffee. "Well, that depends if you think two god tier cosmos and one that I have no clue where it came from because I've never felt anything like it before is a good thing," she responded.

[dontshootmespence]

Puppy Duty

A/N: A request from @milkandcookies528 for a Kate x Reader where she and her husband have divorced (no baby involved). She started dating the reader a while ago and has recently gotten married to her girl; they decide to get a pet. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn

                                                               ----

Just before Kate was supposed to get home from work, Meg ran down the stairs with her phone in her hand. At 15, it was a great time for Meg to learn some responsibility - a pet would definitely help do that. Wasn’t a baby, but it was a living thing that she would need to help to take care of. That was the opening of your argument to your wife. “Look at this one, Y/N,” she said, curling up next to you on the couch and swiping past a bunch of pictures to get to the one she wanted. 

“Oh my god, stop,” you said, smiling at the little pitbull puppy. She looked so angry, but she was so small it was just cute rather than intimidating. “Look at her little gray furry fluff and her blue eyes and that tiny little nose. I love her. Does she have a name yet?”

“No!” Meg said excitedly. “But she’s so cute, right? Do you think we can convince Kate? I really, really want a dog.”

You did too. Kate was away a lot, which you understood and were fine with, but it could get lonely in the house, especially when Meg was out with friends. “Me too,” you said. “I think I can convince her.”

“Do whatever you have to do,” Meg said, giving you an over-exaggerated wink.

You slapped your step-daughter on the arm. “Megan!”

“What?” she laughed. “I’m just saying.”

Of course, Kate walked in at that moment. “Hey, baby,” you said, walking over and placing a kiss on your wife’s nose. “We’ve missed you.”

“What are you two up to?” She smiled. She wrapped your arms around you and kissed your forehead. “My wife and my niece are up to something. What is it?”

Meg took Kate by the hand and brought her to the couch. Your wife looked between you both wondering what the hell was going on. “We have something we need to ask you,” Meg said, a permanent smile plastered across her face. 

Kate turned to you, Meg’s smile mirrored on your own face. “We want to get a dog,” you said, grabbing her hands and lifting them to your face so you could kiss them. “Now, I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?” she asked.

You nodded your head. “Yes, my love. You’re going to say that a dog is a really big responsibility and you aren’t home a lot. I know, and that’s all true. But Meg has been doing so well in therapy for the past two years and even her therapist said that having an animal around the house might help her improve even more. Plus, she’s 15, so she could split puppy duty with me and learn a little bit of responsibility. It’s a win-win all around. She gets that. I get a cute doggy to spoil and fawn over, and when you are home, you can fawn over them too.”

“I don’t know...” she said, wincing at the idea. You could see it in her eyes though; she really did want to say yes.

Reaching over, you smiled at Meg and grabbed her phone. “And look at this furry baby.” You pouted and then took her face in your hands, craning it back toward Meg, who was also pouting. “Come on...” you crooned. “You wanna make your niece and your wifey happy don’t you?”

“I definitely wanna make you happy,” she said, leaning over and placing a small kiss on your lips. “Is this one up for grabs or is this just an example?”

Meg’s voice raised by nearly two octaves as she realized that Kate was actually entertaining the thought of a puppy. “This one is up for grabs. The couple down the street has a pitbull and they didn’t realize she was pregnant until a few months ago, and they can’t take care of all the puppies. They are giving them away for like $250 which is like crazy cheap and we could actually go see them today or tomorrow to look at the puppy. Can we, Kate? Can we please?” Meg clapped her hands in front of her face. 

Looking between the two of you, Kate finally relented. “We can go look. No guarantees,” she added quickly when Meg started to freak out. “And who says $250 is cheap?”

“For a pitbull?” Meg squealed. “They could be nearly $1000.”

With plans to go look at the puppies the next day, Meg hugged you both and ran upstairs, calling her friend to tell her the good news.

                                                              ----

The next day, Meg, Kate and yourself made your way down the block to talk to the couple selling the puppies. “Okay, you know the deal,” Kate said. “If we decide to get one, you pay for half. Y/N and I will pay the other half.” Eagerly, Meg took $125 dollars she’d been saving for something special out of her pocket.

As soon as the three entered the house, Kate knew she was doomed. “Oh look at all the tiny barky babies,” she squealed. Meg had leaned down and one in particular, a girl, practically hopped into her arms. You and Kate spoke briefly with the couple and watched as Meg played with the puppy. “Would we be able to take her today?”

“Of course,” the woman said. “We’d prefer it. Our little Tabitha’s pregnancy kind of took us off guard, so we can’t take care of them all. The sooner we can put them in good homes, the better.”

You looked at Kate and smiled, turning back towards Meg who looked like she would burst into tears if Kate really didn’t want this dog. “Can we get her?” Meg asked. “Please Kate? Please, please, please!”

She sighed. “Okayyyyyy,” she said. 

“Ahh!” Meg squealed and ran around in circles before taking the money out of her pocket and handing it to you. “My puppy!” The little dog began to lick Meg’s face incessantly.

After paying the couple the rest of the $250, the now four of you made your way home. “We are going to need to go grab some puppy supplies,” you laughed as Meg placed the little gray ball of fur on the floor. The puppy scampered around and Meg pretty much crawled behind her. “What’s her name?”

“Athena!” Meg screamed immediately. 

“Strong name,” Kate said. “I like it.”

“Athena, come here,” you said, patting the floor. But nothing.

“Athena!” Kate called. Still nothing.

“Come here, Athena,” Meg said softly, her fingers gently patting against the carpeted floor of the living room. Instantly, the dog approached her. “Yay! She loves me most!”

[athena-minervaa-blog]

//Closed roleplay. If you don't like it i can remake it. <3 --------------------------------- Trust gets you killed. Love gets you hurt, and being real gets you hated. --------------------------------- Athena had found herself traveling to the underworld more and more frequently. At first it had been curiosity that had gotten the best of her. What was really down there? Who was there? What were they like? How strong were they? Many questions that she had asked herself while on her visits. Things that Athena had wanted to find out first hand. But as time traveled during and between each visit she found the answer to each question she had asked herself.. So that would mean her task in the underworld were completed correct? That she would no longer have any desire to visit the underworld and its fellow companions correct? Wrong. There was something else that lured her there. At first Athena couldn't pinpoint at all what it had been. She hadn't had the slightest idea. Had she grown attached to someone there? possibly in an emotional way? No... She wouldn't dare to ever do that. She had promised herself that she wouldn't do that. But what if she couldn't help the emotions that constantly pulled her back, wither it was one sided or not? What was the goddess supposed to do then? They were far too strong for her to ignore; but they were possibly weak enough for her to resist. But did she listen to her mind and what was said to be the 'right thing to do?' Did she keep her distance from the underworld? The question could be answered by Athena's actions as she took yet another trip. Her mind was troubled as she thought to herself what was down there, that was so important? Important enough to get her hated, hurt or even killed. The hell hound. Upon arrival, the simple brunette made her way to the guarded rusted iron gates that divided her from her destination. She weaved her way in, and slipped through majority of the passages unnoticed. There was just one more door that was always closely guarded. She could easily slip past unnoticed, by how many times she had done it in the past. But instead, she cleared her throat, making the slightest sound causing the beast to spark up once more. A wide grin appeared from ear to ear as she studied over the male. She walked over to the male, and then placed her small hand on his left shoulder. Her hand dangled there for a moment, before she slid it down his arm, letting her fingers trace over the many tattoos. "Hello hellpuppy. It seems as if we meet yet again. It feels as if an eternity has passed since i have last visited here." The brunette paused as she reached ever so slightly for his face. Her fingers barley grazing over his cheek as she spoke again with a soft voice. "I do hope you didn't miss me too terribly much." _________________________________ Cerberus' reply: What seemed like a short few days since Athena's last visit had actually been years, or maybe it was really only just a few short weeks since he had seen her last. Time was rather confusing when one did not get to go to the upside very often, and usually it was for something Amara had wanted. The male Hound was quite bored, usually watching the wall and trying his best to not pay attention to the plans and what Amara was saying behind the closed doors. He noticed her presents, he always did. IT did not matter if he let her sneak past or if he stopped her, he always knew when the young Minerva showed up. It was always different times of day or night, it was always something that he would notice. As soon as she stepped into the underworld he knew she was around, this time though he decided to let her sneak past if she wished, though that did not seem to be the case when she made a sound and started to walk up to him. Her touch on his shoulder made his whole body tense for a brief second before relaxing into her touch briefly. He had craved touch for a while now, but not from her. It was welcoming all the same, as he moved to look down in to her face as she spoke to him. "Hello little 'Thena" He spoke softly, his usual cold stripped from his voice as he looked into her eyes. "If I say I missed you will you tell me why you are here for today? Or do I get to continue with this guessing game?" A raise of his eyebrow as he leaned slightly into the touch on his cheek. "If Amara saw you she would be furious you know. So why do you continue? Is it an alliance you want with her? A friendship? Or was I wrong with your intentions?" ______________________________________-- Athena Minerva A warm laugh escaped from the woman as she listened to his 'kind' words. He hadn't always been this pleasant before, so for the male to show so much compassion now had taken the other by surprise. Her light touch on the other had seemed to linger much longer than intended; but deep down the young brunette hadn't wanted to let go. She listened closely to the others words. And couldn't help but smile at the nickname that he had spoken out to her. "I hadn't heard that name in quite awhile; for many seem to be feared to call me other names besides 'Athena', so i do suppose that's a pleasant surprise." She pulled away from the male as she paused for a moment. She allowed herself to be drawn and captivated by his complex appearance. The woman let out a small pouting like face as her narrow icy hues gazed into the others. "And to think, i had been enjoying myself with you. But the mention of amara slightly tampered the mood if i do say so myself. What makes you think my arrival has anything to do with her?" The woman's voice came out like a purr as she looked down upon her own feet. Slightly reaching for the males hands for a brief moment. "Missing me surly can't be as torturous as me missing you.. or your sporadic actions." "Talk about Amara isn't what brought me here today. And sadly its more business than pleasure. As i have a slight proposition that might interest you, and before you resist or decline, it will not involve or interfere with amara; nor put her in harms way in any way." ___________________________________________ Geryon Gabris Cerberus crossed his arms over his chest before Athena's hands could reach his own, his eyebrow raised slightly as he listened to the other speak. He cocked his head to the side at the mention that others were fearful of her, and he couldn't help but exhale through his nose, loudly. "Well, that is what makes me different then, doesn't it? Because I am not scared to call you as I wish, and I believe 'Thena fits you." He gave her a smug look before his facial featured turned back to indifference. "Well, I do know that you are trying to gain her trust or whatever, I know that you have been trying to talk to her as of late, so why would you not be here to see her? That is the logical reason is it not? That you are here to see the queen of the underworld, not her mutt, Im sure." Yet as she continued to speak his eyes grew darker, not in a way of want, more in the was of suspicion, distrust, he was not sure what her proposition would be. He might not even wish to know what it would be, though he doubted that she would not tell him just because he said no. "Is missing me really that bad? I would think one would be happy to leave me and hell behind. I do not understand how you could miss me." He was confused at this, it was rare if ever that the male had found someone beside Amara who cherished his companionship. So for the young Minerva to say something like that, was odd. Maybe there was a double meaning behind it, and Cerberus was not sure how he would feel about that. He took in a sigh and looked her over before deciding if he should let her tell him about her proposition or not. "Fine, tell me. That does not mean that I will accept it though. I can still turn it down after you tell me. _________________________________ Athena Minerva The young brunette watched carefully over the powerful male before him. Everything began to stiffen with the male; and the tension began to grow. Athena tried to break the uncomfortable situation by a small laugh, but it had only seemed to make it worse. His eyes had darkened, and he pulled so far away from the other, it was almost as if he weren’t even there anymore. He looked as if he were battling himself in an argument... and she wasn't quite sure which side of him was winning. It had been strange to her how fast the mood had seemed to change. How fast he could hide his emotions once more. How fast he could look right past the other. Or how fast he was to uneasy the young woman. His actions had been so much sharper than his words to the other and it was unsettling. Her head tilted slightly to the right side as she listened to his beckoning words. Had he really thought that nobody was ever capable of showing any type of compassion to him? Had he not taken note that part of her ‘display’ that she put forth for him had been true emotions that she had pulled forth? As much as the brunette would hate to admit it, she was drawn to him, but she wasn’t quite sure why. She hated the thought of her ever falling for another. She wouldn’t be a fool like her sister and allow herself to fall in love. She had seen how easy it was for love to become a weakness; and it was not going to be the thing that made her fall. Athena shook herself as she checked back into what was being said and going on around her. As she watched Cerberus finish his last words she pressed her thin lips together as she began to slowly speak. “Any decent person who gets to know the underworld would learn to miss its hidden gems that are found within.” She fixed her posture as she continued with her words. “So, my proposition seems to intrigue you. Shall we move in a less open area to speak?” The woman made an exaggerated look around to the open scenery to show that she hadn’t quite trusted the open ears that lurked in the location they were at currently. ______________________________________ Geryon Gabris Cerberus listened to what she said, really listened. He also watched her body language as it changed, and he simply could not understand what she saw in him or about him. He knew the hidden words, and he knew how to see them without them being said. Someplace less private? It must be something she did not want others to hear, and he knew of a few places he could take her if it would ease her mind and have her speak freely. Maybe he could take her to another corridor? Or his room. No he would not take her to his room, that would only cause the others to speak. He did not wish to have them speak, the underworld was terrible gossip. He thought for another moment before he finally spoke. "There are few places that give us privacy, but one of the places I can not take you. The others are still open though I am afraid." He gave a small shrug, and put his hands in his pockets. "The other corridors with less people, there are also few rooms others would go into. Like for instance the library, if you wish to speak privately that would be the best bet. No one really goes into the library and it does have comfortable chairs." __________________________________ Athena Minerva A brow kinked up. There was a place that he wouldn't take her? Why? What had made that place so important? Why couldn't she see it? What was he hiding? So many questions flooded through the woman's mind as her curiosity seemed to get the best of her. "So, what you are telling me..." Her words trailed off, creating a slight amount of tension. "Is that there is one place that we can go, it's secluded and shut out , the best place to choose if we desired to be alone." The woman took another step closer to him as she began to purr her words "But you don't want to take me there? Rather, you wish to take me to yet another open place, with possible lurking ears?" Her soft hands reached yet again for his porcelain face. So perfect, but so hallow. It had been nothing but a shell, a display if you will. Narrow hues scanned over him and her long nails began to slowly dig into his perfect complexion as her grip tightened. "I am beginning to wonder if i can trust you, Hell Puppy." Her words were sharp, slicing right through him. "What are you hiding in that place you cannot take me?" Her dialect had changed so dramatically from a few moments before. She was slightly bitter to the male. She hadn't meant to carry the tone she did, but she couldn't really help it. _________________________________________ Geryon Gabris  His eyes remained indifferent as her nails dug into his skin, he didn't show any sign what so ever to her display. He simply just grabbed her hand and pulled it gently away from his face. "The one place we can go without anyone being around, is my bedroom and if I dare take you there someone will see and they will talk. I doubt you would want them to talk little 'thena." He spat back, moving to check his face. "My room is the only place no one goes, without permission they can not enter. That being said, you would not wish for my room I am sure. That is why I offered the library, it is the second best place to go. It is still secluded, not many go there and if you are lucky no one will. I have not seen anyone enter the library in a long time." He rubbed his face lightly, checking for blood or any other marks. He gave a small sigh and turned back to look at the smaller goddess. "You do not have to trust me, 'Thena. Not many do, I kill people on orders of Haydees. You should not trust me, yet for some mysterious reason you actually do. I do not understand it, I don't know why you would trust me. _________________ Athena Minerva  Her gaze softened to the male as she stopped fighting back. Why hadn't she ever thought about that? Instead her mind had been aimed to the worst. And her small spark of anger had gotten the better of her. Oh how foolish it had been for her to think such things. Now look what had happened. She listened carefully to his words. Trying her best not to jump to any more conclusions. He had been straightforward with her, so there really wasnt any reason for her to judge him the way she had. "I'm... I'm sorry." A deep breath pulled at the young Goddess as her eyes drifted from him to the ground. Without gazing back up she spoke again. "My actions were uncalled for, and you don't frighten me. I understand what it is like to be under someone else's leash, even if it is by choice. My trust in you will never fade, and if that will be the result of my fatality so mote it be." True emotions had pulled at the young brunette as her eyes met back with his. "If you are still inclined to hear what i have to offer i would love to go with you to the library. For you would know best where to go __________________________ Geryon Gabris Cerberus was taken back, she apologized? He did not understand how or why she would even apologize. He did not see anything wrong with her actions or what she did, and as such he didn't understand why. It was a very odd feeling, to not understand something. Normally he was good at controlling his emotions and understanding why people did what they did, yet Athena always confused him in some way. "I still don't think you should trust me, I don't think anyone should trust me. I cause distruction, I cause pain. I cause emotional turmoil everywhere I go. Yet, for some reason you still trust me." He took a deep breath, and gave a soft sigh. "I don't now why you apologize but you did, so I accept your apology." He licked his lips and gave a nod. "We can go to the library, it is not that far away from where we are currently. If you will follow me, I will lead you toward the library where you can talk as you wish." He smiled softly, and turned to walk down the corridor. His food steps echoed off the walls as he walked, and he turned to look back at the younger Goddess to see if she was following him. He made a few short turns, once left, twice right, before he finally stood in front of two large wooden doors. "And here... Is the library" he said softly, holding his arms out and turned around in a swing motion to show her. A large triumphant smirk on his face ________________________________ Athena Minerva "Trust is never something that i give out lightly; why i have given it to you is beyond me Hell Puppy. I sometimes wish i was more careful.. but things are /different/ with you." The young woman responded without even looking up from her task before her. And that had been the truth. She wasn't quite sure why she had ever thought to trust Cerberus as much as she did, She really shouldn't but she couldn't help herself. Her eyes met his as she listened to his acceptance of her apology. He had clearly been confused as to why the young woman apologized, not seeing wrong in her actions for grabbing him the way she had. But if Athena were to remain loyal in that type of way to the hell hound; her actions can not be repeated. A soft nod came from the woman as her reply to his words, and then again to the rest of what he had to say. Before she had knew it they were on their way to the Library. Walking away from the open and curious eyes that seemed to follow. It was nice to be able to go somewhere to finally be alone. She never had thought that she would be able to pull the hound away from the redhead long enough to even say hello. As they reached their destination the brunette hesitated before she reached for the locks on the door. Was what she was about to do really a good thing? Would her actions jeopardize everything that she has built between the two of them so far? Was this a mistake? Her darken hues danced away her guilty mind, as it focused once more on the golden door handle. 'Just open it Thea.' She thought to herself before giving the door a hard tug. "After you." She spoke as she gestured for the male to go inside.

---------------------------------------- Geryon Gabris How could things really be all that different with him? He was still confused even as they had walked down to the library, he had been in thought, had been thinking about a lot of things and the actions of Athena. It was confusing for sure, he just was not sure what the Goddess was planning and if he should trust her. Though, he did feel like he could trust her and believe her, yet he also admitted that it could be very very dangerous if Amara ever found out. 'After you' it rang in his head for a quick second before he stepped forward into the grand Library, bookcases towering over his head so high that you could not see the top. Filled with books from top to bottom, one would wonder how they even got to the top of the bookcase. It was one of the rooms he felt calm and relaxed in, one of the others being the training room. Another being his own bedroom, and the last being in a room near Amara almost always calmed him down. He turned to look at Athena once more, hoping this would prompt her to say something. ":I do believe you had asked me here because you had something you wanted to speak to me about? I did after all lead you here, so I would hope this time is not spent wasted." He spoke softly, yet the words did seem to come out a little harsher then he had intended. "Or do you simply wish to stare at me? Because I am sure that I can arrange that. You could do all the staring that you would ever want, and I could read a book or look I could go back to the training grounds and practice. I am sure you would not mind seeing me all covered in sweat and a chance to see my muscles working and in action." _______________________________________________ Athena Minerva Athena watched Cerberus walk past her with ease. He hadn't looked too worried over anything that might happen between the two of them. And he acted almost as if he trusted the woman. How had he been so open and caring to just walk with the woman anywhere she pleased to go? Why would he take that risk? Knowing damn well what could happen if Amara would find out. Why would he risk everything for a simple conversation with Athena. It had almost seemed absurd. Her eyes had widened to his taunts. Had he really been amused during this time? A grin emerged from the woman as she inched closer to his body, now closing the gap between the two of them. Her left hand tugged at the bottom of his shirt as she whispered back to him in his ear. "I am sure there is much to you that would catch my eye Hell Puppy, but i am not here for this. Not at this specific time and moment at least." Her words almost came off as a purr. Very flirty for even herself, it wasn't normally like Athena to be this reckless. Her grip on his shirt released once more as she decided not to continue to toy with him. But with the same tone, the woman began to ramble on again. "I do hope you forgive me, my darling Cerberus. As i really didn't mean to dismay your trust in this manor. I just wasn't quite sure how i would get you alone in any other way."Her words trailed off yet again as her gaze wandered around the room. He did find quite an exquisite place to be isolated from the rest, from the voices. The room towered in books and other random objects. It was a place Athena could often find herself coming to get lost in... It was a quiet place. The perfect place. "I could spend all my time in here and still not be done." She had whispered to herself, as she continued to take in the beauty

[pentacass]

I wish you would write a fic where... a teenage Fareeha gets shot down by Angela (bec: teenager) and Kamilah (and Ana) trying to make her feel better.

A/N: More literal spin on ‘shot down’. ‘Trying’ became a key word. Plus a little more. And a pinch of angst. Sorry.

-

“Bet my aim’s better than yours!”

Fareeha cringed at her own foolish, naive, brash, dumb declaration just fifteen minutes before. Standing stock-still, she stared down at her chest piece, the sensor’s light above her heart glowing red - causing those strapped to her abdomen, limbs and head to turn red as well, indicating her virtual death. She glanced up at Angela, who had lowered her own laser pistol and was closing the distance between them.

They were in the training range, turned into a makeshift arena with the help of holo and hard-light technology. Jesse had roped Fareeha, Angela, Mirembe, Gabriel, and a few other agents into a casual session of laser tag. But with Jesse and Gabriel on different teams, the cowboy made it a competition by betting that his team would win against his mentor’s. It earned a scoff from Gabriel, obviously. And Fareeha, who had never seen Angela hold a gun before, made the bold statement that had her burning with embarrassment inside.

It didn’t help when Angela seemed to carry not a single shred of pride, and merely gave her a benign smile. “Have you played laser tag before, Fareeha?”

“I-”

The loud report of a laser revolver cut her off, and Angela’s heart sensor shone red along with the rest of her body sensors. They turned to watch Jesse give a whoop.

“Gotcha, doc!” He dashed off around a corner without giving them time to respond. “Yeehaw!”

Secondhand embarrassment curled Fareeha’s lips. Angela pressed a hand to her mouth to hide a smile - or was it a laugh, Fareeha could not tell, because of Jesse’s sudden shout of panic from behind the walls. They heard him cry “No!” repeatedly before hearing six deep crackles from a mock shotgun and a loud groan of defeat.

“That’ll teach you to keep your dumbass mouth shut,” came Gabriel’s growl.

“Let’s go,” Angela said to Fareeha with a wide smile - something she had rarely seen on the young doctor’s face. Fareeha stared up at her, then gave a nod, trailing behind the blonde in a personal walk of shame.

As they reached the range’s entrance, they heard Gabriel’s shotguns go off again, interspersed by the rapid firing of SMGs. 

Fareeha recognised Mirembe’s melodic laugh in the lull after. “Get fucked, Gabe!”

“You’re on my team!”

-

“What’s wrong, Fareeha? You’ve been sulking for the whole day.”

Fareeha glanced up briefly at her mother, who was looking at her curiously. “Nothing,” she mumbled.

“Then why the pout?” Kamilah asked, as Ana continued digging into her own dinner. They were in the private dining lounge - where the Amari always had their meals with Ana, whenever they popped by the HQ for a visit.

“Are you still sore about losing at laser tag?” Ana said through a mouthful of potato, which she promptly swallowed at a frown from her wife. “Jesse’s still bummed about it too.”

That her mother hit the bull’s eye didn’t serve to improve the teenager’s mood. And like hell would she ever divulge that dumb thing with Angela. So anger diverted her focus someplace else. “We would’ve won if you’d teach me how to shoot.”

Ana’s hand paused briefly as it reached for the glass of water. “I’m not teaching you how to use a gun.”

“Why not!” Fareeha’s anger snowballed. Her tongue moved on its own volition. “You taught Jesse. You taught Angie. You taught the entire fucking base except me!”

“Fareeha,” Kamilah cut in. “Language. And watch your tone.”

“I am not teaching you how to kill.”

“You make it sound like I’ll pick up a gun and go on a shooting spree!”

“That’s not the point!” Ana said sharply. “I never want you to go near a-”

“Enough.”

“Then I’m learning whether or not you teach me!”

“Fareeha Amari-”

“I said enough!”

Ana fell silent at the command. The two averted their gazes from each other to look at Kamilah. Fareeha met her mother’s eyes for barely a second before she lowered her own.

“We are not going through this again, not here at the table,” Kamilah intoned. “Either stay and eat, or get out if you want to argue.”

Ana stayed, stabbing her fork into a carrot with her lips pursed into a thin line. Fareeha, unable to take her mother’s presence anymore, stood from her chair.

No one stopped her as she stormed out of the door.

-

As it turned out, Fareeha did manage to learn without Ana’s tutelage. The army had taught her all she wanted and needed to know.

And now, it was time to prove her worth.

“It’s us again, lil birdie,” Jesse drawled as they stood by one of the training range’s entrances. Behind them were Hana, Mei, and Torbjorn. All ‘willing’ participants drawn into Jesse’s impromptu laser tag challenge.

“Let’s win this time, hm?” Fareeha smirked, hefting the rifle in her hands. She was disallowed from using a rocket launcher in this game, sadly.

“You betcha.”

Athena’s countdown ended, and their team sprinted forward into the arena’s maze. They split up, and Fareeha took the north-east path, making sure to check her surroundings and keep to cover. She took down Genji and Lena at an intersection, then quickly ran forward into another path again. 

Taking her time, Fareeha kept her senses on high alert as she moved out into the small open area. She stayed close to the wall, heard a shuffle of movement off to her right, and snapped her weapon up in its direction.

At the sight of blonde hair, Fareeha’s finger froze on the trigger. She lowered her rifle in reflex, and that gave Angela an opening to shoot at her heart, just as she had all those years ago. Fareeha looked down at her sensor, and this time, there was not a sliver of embarrassment at all. Merely a bloom of warmth in her chest when Angela’s lips parted in a chuckle.

“Letting your guard down in front of an enemy, Fareeha? Not a very wise move.”

“I was disarmed by your lovely face, Dr Ziegler.”

A tinge of red appeared on Angela’s face, and her sensors followed suit.

“Get a room, you gross hags,” Hana scoffed, lowering her pistol as Athena announced a victory for Jesse’s team. His ecstatic yell rang through the air, followed by Lena’s voice asking for a rematch.

“Would your team accept a defector?” Fareeha asked as Angela fell in beside her, following behind Hana to the arena’s starting point.

“Depends on how good a case she makes.”

“How about,” Hana said. “‘I’m a big, strong, useless lesbian’?”

“I don’t know,” Fareeha hummed. “Sounds pretty convincing to me.”

“Me too,” Angela concurred with a grin, prompting another scoff from Hana.

“This base is gonna explode with all this gay tension,” the mech pilot muttered under her breath, as her colleagues linked their hands together behind her.

[aceprosecuties]

Nahyuta wants to visit Metis' grave with Simon and they have a lovely angsty time with it

You know the way to my heart

ALSO THIS GOT LONG SO IT IS HERE BUT IT IS ALSO OVER AT AO3!

-----

“MayI accompany you?”

Simonpaused when Nahyuta voiced his inquiry; today was his monthly visit to MetisCykes’ grave, a task that he normally completed alone.  There was one time where Athena joined him,right after he was finally exonerated, but he tended to prefer the solitudeduring such emotional moments.  

“…Why?”

Nahyutatilted his head a little bit, clearly confused. “…Because she was important to you?” The way he inflected his tone at the end suggested a question ratherthan a statement, as if he was unsure that was the answer Simon had beenlooking for.  

Simon,meanwhile, has folded his arms over his chest. “But she means nothing to you, so why would you wish to come along?”

Nahyutacouldn’t help but chuckle.  He stood upfrom his spot on Simon’s couch, and walked over until he was in front ofhim.  Nahyuta began doing the buttons onSimon’s vest, not meeting the man’s eyes when he spoke again.  “My panda, you really can be an idiot attimes.”  Despite the fact that he wasn’tlooking at Simon’s face, he knew that the man had frowned at the insult, asplayful as it had sounded.  “She wasimportant to you, and you are important to me. Is it so surprising that I would wish to share such a moment with you?”  He finished up the buttons and stood back tosmile warmly.

Simonhesitated.  It was not as though he hatedthe idea of Nahyuta coming with him today. Admittedly, the thought made him feel slightly itchy; he usually wentalone due to wanting to feel completely connected with his dead mentor, andalso because, well…he never really enjoyed showing anything that could be perceivedas weakness in front of another person.  

Also…whatexactly did this mean about the state of their relationship?  Simon and Nahyuta were sort of in limbo –they were more than casual (the frequent trips to and from Khura’in were enoughto spell that out), but Simon never really believed them serious.  Not that he didn’twant that, it was just…they never really spoke about it.  Simon didn’t want to possibly push Nahyutaaway by bringing the subject up.  Afterall, Nahyuta was the king-regent ofhis nation, and Simon was convinced that he needed to eventually pick an “acceptablesuitor.”  

Simonwas sure that he was anything butthat.

“I…suppose you may come with me,” heeventually said, his volume quiet.  If heappeared reluctant, Nahyuta did not pick up on it (or just chose to ignore it,more likely), and just kissed Simon’s cheek before smiling that damn beautifulsmile that made Simon’s heart speed up every single time he saw it.  It was so frustrating, really, how etherealand lovely Nahyuta was, and it sometimes made Simon angry when he thought toomuch about how the monk’s eyes were like emeralds in his perfectly-crafted faceand how his hair was finer than the finest silk.  

“Iwill just need to make a stop at the florist,” Simon informed Nahyuta when theystepped outside.  Despite the fact thatthe Metis’ grave was a few miles away from his apartment, Simon never took a caror bus there.  Instead, he would walk, onlybriefly stopping to buy flowers.  Thetime he spent walking he would contemplate the past – he would remember histimes with Metis and her young daughter and his sister…back when they were alltogether and happy.  Metis was somewhatawkward with most people, as she was with him at first, but eventually shebecame more comfortable around him and Aura, and he was able to see thewonderful caring person that she truly was.

Shewas a genius and there was so much more Simon wished to learn from her beforeher untimely passing.  

Forsome time, Simon and Nahyuta walked in silence. Simon was alright with that – it allowed him to reflect and think aboutMetis, though the question about his and Nahyuta’s relationship annoyingly persistedin the back of his mind.  

Theflorist wasn’t that far away, and when he entered the little shop, the womantending the flowers greeted him by name, indicating to Nahyuta just how oftenSimon stopped here.  The saleswomanbriefly went to the back and returned with a small bouquet of white flowersthat were still closed.  Simon thankedher after giving her some cash, and swiftly exited with the flowers in his handand Nahyuta at his side.

“Whatare those?”  Nahyuta had never seen thatparticular plant, and was curious as to why Simon would get a flower thatclearly hadn’t bloomed.

“Moonflowers,”Simon responded, glancing at Nahyuta as they continued their journey down thesidewalk of Los Angeles.  “They do notbloom during the day, instead opening only under the light of the moon, hencetheir name.”  It was an obvious choicewhen he began visiting Metis’ grave, and he didn’t have the heart to changethem.  

“Whatwas she like?  Your mentor,” Nahyutaasked, after a few more minutes of silent walking.  

“Shewas…incredible.”  It was the firstadjective that came to his mind, and Nahyuta was genuinely surprised to hearsuch praise for another person coming from Simon’s mouth.  Though…he really shouldn’t have been thatshocked, considering who Simon was speaking about.  It was just not something he was particularlyused to.  “She taught me all I know aboutpsychology, and was my sword training master on top of it.”  For a few seconds, he contemplated a memory,and then chuckled when he voiced it out loud. “My sister would often get angry with me when I would apparently steal Dr.Cykes away from her.  Aura never reallydid take to sharing.”  He looked up,smiling softly at the sky.  “I couldstudy psychology for the rest of my life and would never even approach hergenius.”

Nahyutasaid nothing in response.  Instead, hereached out and took hold of Simon’s free hand with his own, and carefullylaced their fingers together.  The actionsurprised Simon, as it seemed rather intimate, but it was comforting, so he didnot pull away.  

Forthe remainder of their walk, Simon told Nahyuta stories about his time withMetis and Aura and Athena.  How Athena atfirst was somewhat unresponsive to him (as a child, she was not nearly asextroverted as she is now, he explained), but soon warmed up to him after heplayed with her a few times and watched movies with her.  She would drag him away from his lessons sometimesso that he could read her stories, and Metis always allowed it because she washappy that Athena had finally found a friend.

Heexplained how he would tease Aura about her very obvious crush on Metis,leading to a lot of back-and-forth pranks between him and his sister thatculminated eventually in both of them getting into trouble.  Based on his conversations with Metis, andwith how she would often sneak glances at Aura when his sister wasn’t looking,Simon was convinced that the crush was mutual. But with Metis’ personality and awkwardness, she never acted on thosefeelings.  To save his sister fromfurther heartbreak, he never told her these suspicions of his.

Hislessons with Metis were always rewarding, and sometimes grueling.  She was an excellent teacher, and taught himmore than he ever would have imagined in the short time they had together.  At first, psychology wasn’t something that hewas able to get the hang of; he was an expert in law first and foremost, sogoing from something so tangible as law to a subject that had its focus onsomething as volatile as the human mind was not that easy for him.  But despite his shortcomings, Dr. Cykes nevergave up on him, and would never get frustrated when he performedless-than-adequately.  She was alwayspatient and kind.

Heloved her for it.

Theyreached the cemetery, and even with so many graves, Simon had been here enoughto know exactly where Metis’ site was. Nahyuta followed, feeling a spiritual energy course through him as soonas he stepped on the grass; he might not have had the incredible powers of hissister or his mother, but he was able to notice spiritual presences when theywere overwhelming, as they currently were.

Metis’grave was not anything particularly remarkable, aside from the vines ofmoonflowers crawling around it.  Simonhad specifically asked the groundskeeper to not remove them, as they addedsomething to the otherwise plain-looking headstone.  

Nahyutasaid nothing as Simon knelt down to place the flowers in front of the stoneafter a few moments of silence.  Hewatched Simon’s hand reach up to touch the engraving of Metis’ name; to maybebring some comfort to him, Nahyuta put his own hand on Simon’s shoulder,waiting for the man to stand up again.

Buthe didn’t.

Instead,Simon had begun to shake.

“Simon…?”  The shaking had been very slight; the onlyreason Nahyuta even noticed was because he was physically touching him.  Nahyuta knelt down beside Simon, only to seethat tears had begun to leak from his gray eyes, falling into a pattern thatresembled the dark markings on his face.

Itwas the first time that Nahyuta had seen Simon cry.

Again,Nahyuta whispered the man’s name, this time in a sympathetic tone.  He squeezed Simon’s shoulder, hoping tocomfort him, but was saddened to see that he had no effect.  At first, Nahyuta believed this to be justnormal mourning, but soon started having other suspicions, based on the painetched on Simon’s face.

Hissuspicions were confirmed when Simon finally formed some words.

“…myfault…”

Therest of the sentence was mumbled and hidden behind some harder sobs.  Nahyuta softly whispered “what” to try andget Simon to clarify.

“It’sall my fault she’s gone,” Simon repeated, this time loud enough for Nahyuta tohear.  Before Nahyuta was able to respondin protest, Simon just continued, becoming slightly more unhinged with everyword he spoke.  “I put her in the Phantom’scrosshairs when I asked her to analyze his voice.  If I…if I had just done it myself, or…or leftit alone, he would have pursued me that day rather than her…”

Clearly,this had been weighing on Simon for some time – really, ever since herdeath.  He played over the scenarios inhis head way too often while he was in prison, always inevitably coming to thesame conclusion: the Phantom pursued Dr. Cykes to silence her only after she created his psychologicalprofile.  And, she only crafted theanalysis specifically because Simon requested her help.  Therefore, if he hadn’t gone to her, shenever would have been on the Phantom’s radar.

Itwas his fault.

Yes,in the end, they caught the Phantom.  Inthe end, Simon was exonerated, and all suspicions of Athena dissipated.  But also…in the end, Metis was still dead.  

Andthen he considered himself partners with the very same monster who had killedher, never once realizing who he was dealing with.  The fact that he didn’t notice earlier was aninsult to everything she had taught to him.

Althoughhe often thought these things, he had become almost numb to them after so many yearsin prison.  For some reason, though,having Nahyuta by his side this time made him feel helpless again…like he waswhen he spent the first few nights in his cell, where he could do nothing butcry over the loss of his mentor and the guilt he felt over her death.  He hated it; he didn’t want to show thisweakness to anyone, and yet here he was, weeping over his mentor’s grave like achild while Nahyuta watched him.

ButNahyuta wasn’t just watching.  He couldn’tbelieve that Simon still harbored these feelings of shame and guilt…all of themcompletely unnecessary in his eyes. While whispering Simon’s name again and again, Nahyuta pulled the maninto him, wrapping his arms around Simon’s broad shoulders and holding himtight against his chest.  At first, Simonhad resisted, but caved and allowed Nahyuta to envelop him, though he justloathed himself more for seeking out the comfort.

Nahyutastroked Simon’s hair as he waited for some exhaustion to settle him down, notwanting to speak over his sobs.  OnceSimon quieted, Nahyuta spoke gently to him. “Simon…you’re far too hard on yourself. How could you ever have known that the Phantom would have ever targetedMetis?”  He pulled back so that he couldstare into Simon’s eyes, which were still glossy and wet with tears, while hisown were full of righteous conviction.  “Youneeded a profile on him…if you didn’t have one, there’s no way you would havecaught him.  And…he might have killed youinstead.”

“Better-”

“Please do not finish that sentence.”

Nahyutaknew that the words that were about to leave Simon’s mouth were “better me thanher,” and he couldn’t stomach having to listen to them.  “Yes, Dr. Cykes’ death was…is a tragedy, but replacing one tragedywith another isn’t better.”  Besides…if Simon had been killed in Metis’place, Nahyuta never would have met him, and he didn’t want to think of a worldwhere he did not know Simon Blackquill.

Hebrushed some hair from Simon’s eyes, and he could tell that Simon still was unconvinced.  “Please don’t think so poorly of yourselfwhen you have so many around you who think so highly of you.  Who…who loveyou, Simon.”

Simon’seyes widened.  It was the first timeeither of them had mentioned the l-word, and he was caught off-guard.  Just this morning he was wondering about thestate of his and Nahyuta’s…relationship, and now…Nahyuta was alluding tolove?  Sure, he could have been reallythinking about Aura or Athena, but…the way Nahyuta’s cheeks had gone slightlypink indicated that he considered himself in that group as well.

“Nahyuta…”  Simon wanted to say something…anything in response to that, but wasonly able to form the other man’s name. He allowed himself to sink back into Nahyuta’s arms, closing his eyesand trying to calm himself back into a more reasonable state.  

“Idon’t think Dr. Cykes would have wanted you to blame yourself, Simon.  Especially not after everything you have donefor Athena.”  Nahyuta may not have knownMetis personally, but from the way Simon spoke about her, he could not imagineher ever blaming him for her death. Instead, she would have been grateful to him for protecting her child,and for finally bringing the Phantom to justice.

A newfresh flow of tears stained Simon’s cheeks, and Nahyuta quietly clung to him.  It took a few minutes for Simon to calmagain; he ended up with a splitting headache…it had been quite some time sincehe cried this hard and this long.  

Nahyutaknew that a few choice words were not just going to undo years ofself-loathing, but he hoped that they had at least given Simon some ammoagainst those destructive thoughts.  Hepulled back and wiped some of the wetness from Simon’s face with his thumb beforesoftly kissing his forehead.  

“Wouldyou like to get something to eat?  I’llbuy,” he suggested.  Simon just chose tonod rather than respond verbally, and allowed Nahyuta to help him into astanding position.  Nahyuta then tookhold of Simon’s hand once again, leading him from the gravesite.

Ifthey had turned around, they would have seen the apparition of a smiling womanwearing a yellow kimono watching them.

[macabrecabra]

Symmetra approaches the shimada bros about their dragons because she's curious about how they work, what are they made out of exactly, etc., but besides the very basic info the brothers don't actually know too much about their dragons, which leaves Symmetra unsatisfied, so she decides to lure their dragons out so she can study them more closely.

I can give you a little somethingsure! A new prompt idea is always welcomed to bring in some fresh air

For anon! Title: In Regards toDragonsRating: PG-13Relationship: Symmetra studying themdragons

Sometimes, in the pursuit of betterunderstanding, it was better to ask forgiveness than to seekpermission. That was a lesson Symmetra had been taught from a youngage, well before she had enter the field itself.

As a smallgirl, she had learned quickly, as most children did, what was rightand wrong, what was allowed and not allowed, and also that there wererules and barriers. She had also learned that breaking those ruleswere sometimes, just sometimes though, a little necessary to find abetter way. The ends justified the means in the end and small slightscould be forgiven. What she was about to do now was just oneof those instances. In the name of understanding the Shimada dragons, she had to take things into her own hands.

Of course she had tried to play nice.She had spoken to both Hanzo and Genji about the object of herinterest, their dragons, but it was rather hard to get a straightanswer from either. “It has been in our family forgenerations, binding to those in the family who are proven worthy,”Had been what Hanzo had said solemnly with Genji's own remarks beingmore or less the same thing although phrased far more crudely andlaid-back.It was a pair of responses that had Symmetrafrowning as they held no sense of scientific or even rationalexplanation and fell back on wives tales and traditions. Two menhaving dragons was treated like a common place thing, not somethingof extraordinary revelation. Such answers could not be accepted andso Symmetra had went to work on finding a way to truly settle her curiosity and bring a more logical explanation for the dragons intobeing.There was always a way to explain myths.

Symmetra hummed to herself, a habit ofhers that came to light when in high spirits and dare she say giddyabout a particular project, as she began to power up her personallab. She had left the Vishkar Corporation, true, but she had notabandoned all the equipment she had picked up over the years. She hadsimply moved it to her own personal room, converting half of thesuite into her own working lab with her own security codes separatefrom Athena's control. Here, there would be no one to watch or evenknown she was the one that “stole” the Shimada dragons.

She wouldn't have used that word to describe what she had done though. She had simply borrowed the beasts and wouldreturn them when she was satisfied. That was all. Nothing more,nothing less. They would not be gone any longer than what wasnecessary to get her curiosity sated. As her lab finishedloading Symmetra extended a single finger to lightly tap against theholoscreen, flicking through the security codes without much thought,already bending her mind towards what she needed to accomplish thisday. To start, she would have to find a way to isolate  what thedragons were made of, or at least, what kind of light they were.  Herpersonal theory on the matter was that these dragons were a constructof light, not hard light, but some other form of undiscovered lightmanipulation that was more alive than the hard light creations sheutilized.

If that was true, with enough researcha combination of living and hard light could very well be used tocraft organs, maybe even new life. It would be the literallykey to godhood if someone were to master it, the very ability tomanipulate life as it was known.A touch of a smile came toher lips as she briefly entertained such lofty thoughts. Such dreamshad merit but now wasn't the time to get lost in the could be of herresearch and focus on the task at hand. The architect lifted hergun and loaded the muzzle carefully into a port, pressing the switchto let the dragons out into a larger containment field constructed ofthick glass that would allow her to observe them as she manipulatedthe strange energy that they were made up of. Blue and green serpentstwisted and twined about, clearly agitated and Symmetra even got thesensation they were watching her. In all honestly that didn'tscare her as much as it should have. It fascinated her that the beingwere sentient enough to know they were captured and being studied.Symmetra gave a small smile to the beasts, deceptively kind,as her fingers tapped across the keypad and began to scan and uploaddata to her lab. Her eyes flicked to the read out of numbers dashingacross the screens, pursing her lips thoughtfully. Her mind wasfocusing in on it all, soaking it up with the fervor she always hadwhen it came to matters of light and light research. The green dragonhad paused in its ceaseless meanderings of its new cage, watching thedate with an almost curious tilt of its head, tiny paws against theglass. It was cute she supposed but it did little to distracther from her work. The dragon was now pawing at the class, giving outhissing low growls that sounded so much deeper and louder than itssmall size would indicate but she suppose it only appeared small fornow due to being confined. It had been so much larger when Genji hadunleashed it.

“My, my aren't the three of youinteresting,” She murmured out loud, “Such strange photonmake-up, and to create such colors and diversity, yet behave thesame, so very peculiar,” She flicked her fingers over thescreen, sorting out data into the necessary categories, eyesnarrowing. The green dragon was moving at a slower pace, which madesense given its color while the blue dragons were far more energeticand more akin to hard light. Akin to, but not quiet. There was someother wavelength in their make-up, some other finely woven aspect shestill needed to unpack. Symmetra's eyes narrowed andcarefully she shifted to bring her hands to a small pad, brushing herfingers against it. Within the container, hard light erupted and thedragons scattered from the thin beam, hissing and growling. The greenone was the first to inspect it, snapping a small mouth at it beforesquawking as the beam of harmless light expanded as Symmetra began tomanipulate it from outside the containment chamber.Shesmirked, just a bit as she watched the dragons huff and hiss as shemore or less formed a copy of the green dragon out of hard light. Itseemed to be aware of this, letting out a surprised shrieking soundand starting to nudge and wrap around the construct, looking over atthe twin blue dragon's with a wide eyed, glowing look of shock as ifto say “That's me! This is me! Its me!”

Symmetra couldn't help the slightchuckle that escaped her or the curl of her lips as she beheld itsantics, “My, aren't you a lively one?” she cooed.Thegreen dragon turned to regard her, looking more at ease, earsflicking about as it gave almost a smile and a purring rumble. With afew flicks of her fingers, her dragon of light began to move,tickling its own paws now over the belly of the green dragon. Thelittle glowing dragon shrieked and twisted about and if it had beencapable of blushing, Symmetra had a feeling it would. The twin bluedragons were curled up with each other, watching with a guardedinterest, hissing slightly as the green dragon was all but wrapped upnow with the dragon construct, purring happily and licking it.“Doyou like my little construct then?” She teased, for a momentforgetting her research to continue to more or less play with thegreen dragon, “I can make more,”In a flurry and few wellplaced twists of her fingers, three more much smaller little babydragons flitted in, twisting and turning and causing the green dragonto glow even more, lighting up as it swatted and chased the smallerdragons, sometimes nuzzling, only stopping when it had caught one andlooking to the twin blue dragons, tilting its head.

Hanzo's dragons though seemed to not beas social, only giving a hiss. It was honestly quiet fascinating how the dragon's seemed to have picked up on theindividual personality quirks of their owners. All in all though, itwasn't like she needed all three for her study. She pursed her lipsthoughtfully before flicking her fingers, dismissing the hard lightcreations. The green dragon whined, flitting about  before pressingits face to the glass in an attempt to give her a doe-eyed look. Shechuckled and raised a finger to tap the glass where its small nosewas.“How about we let your friends there go back to theirowner and you, my tiny green friend, stay with me for a while yes?I'll make more dragons for you to play with,” she cooed. Thedragon seemed to understand and nodded excitedly while the two blueones perked up at the mention of being able to go to their owner.Symmetra chuckled. She had the readings she needed and one of themwas willing to stay around. A flick of her finger opened the hatchand the twin blue dragons burst out and were gone in an instant outunder the door. The green one though slid out, growing larger andthen wrapping about her some. The touch of the glowing scaleswas warm, but not blistering so. More like a warm cup of tea on acold winter's day clutched between the hands. She reached out to petit slightly, earning a low purr as it rested its head on hershoulder, “You are an affectionate one, aren't you?”Thedragon's only response was a lazy yawn, exposing its teeth somebefore it settled to watch her work. As promised though, she created afew constructs, little dragons that danced through the air around thehead of the glowing green beast. Again this seemed to please thedragon and it was darting about the lab in dizzying patterns to givechase to the constructs, pausing at times to wrap about her as if toremind her it had not left. She had expected no visitors toher room. It was honestly a bit of a surprise for her door to swingopen and Genji to step in, crossing his arms as he leaned in thedoorway, “It is rather rude to steal someones' dragon withoutpermission,”“I did not steal the dragon. They seem morethan content to stay,” Symmetra responded idly, not about to lether surprise break through her calm facade, “Did you know it washere?”“Hanzo's dragon's told him and he told me,” Genjidrawled, stepping further into the room. Symmetra clucked hertongue, turning to the green dragon and giving it a tickle under thechin, “A dirty pair of snitches, aren't they my friend?”Thedragon purred in agreement and she saw Genji tilt his head some, hisposture a bit tense and he had a slight arch of his neck as ifsomeone had touched him there. Symmetra noted that it was the samespot she touched the dragon. She repeated the touch, quirking aneyebrow as she noticed Genji arch just slightly again before she gavea wicked little smirk and brought both hands up to ruffle and pet thedragon, turning her attention to the beast as if she hadn't noticedthat it seemed indeed the dragon and its owner shared a link andshared sensations such as touch.

Best not to let him know she found outand play innocent. Such a thing could be exploited for amusement andstudy after all. Mostly though for amusement as she couldn't help buttake a little mean sort of satisfaction in ruffling people in aspassive and elegant as a way she could.  “I want my dragonreleased back to me,” Genji growled out  slightly.“It isreleased and can return when it wishes,” she answered simply, “Ihave enough data to sort through for now but I would love to have mynew friend stop by,”

She pressed a kiss to the snoot ofthe beast and she swore she heard Genji curse under his breath in hisnative tongue. Oh she was going to have fun teasing the usually cockyand tranquil cyborg, that was for certain. She had been growing tiredof teasing that rubbish Australian, stalwart Pharah, and  the far tooAmerican cowboy. It was time to perhaps...expand her horizons. Hernew fascination with the dragons seemed to have yielded even more thansimple data.The dragon gave a long rolling purr, moving abouther before lazily returning to Genji, the coils starting to dissipateas it returned to its resting place, “We shall see. It is a clansecret as to what the dragons are,”“You never seemed likea man of traditions though,” Symmetra pointed out idly, turning herattention back to the data she had, flicking her eyes over it all,“Regardless, I'll sate my curiosity one way or another. You cannotimpede science,”Genji gave a snort, turning to leave, “Andyou cannot impede a Shimada if you cross their path one too manytimes,” he said, the tone calm yet carried the undertone of athreat. Symmetra ignored it and focused on the work in frontof her. Genji could threaten all he wanted but he really didn't havethe makings of someone who would go as far as to kill someone else.His nature was subdued despite his fearsome reputation. She didn'tfeel threatened, not in the least. Besides, his dragon wouldbe back. A quirk of a smile was curling her lips, her eyes narrowingin a pleased expression. She was missing the dragon already and itsantics. Perhaps sooner rather than later it would return. Shewouldn't mind its warm scaly company.