#fic: running down (to the riptide)

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍

❝ For almost as long as she’d known she was a half-blood, Lydia had wanted to go on a quest. Being an adventurous kid by nature (as well as a dramatic and overly perky kid, according to Camp Half-Blood’s notoriously surly head counsellor), she ached to venture out and retrieve some important magical object or face some terrifying monster on behalf of her father, to carry out a mission that would make for the summer of her life and get her some glory in the process.

Unfortunately for her, a quest didn’t seem to be the will of her father, Apollo - or of anyone else in her life, for that matter. Chiron kept insisting that she wasn’t ready, wasn’t trained enough, to put herself in danger like that; her moms, when she was home, practically forbade her to go even if her father did call her on one, not wanting her to be in danger; even her best camp friend Annabeth, for all she was desperate to go on a quest herself, didn’t think she was good enough to succeed. It didn’t even matter that Lydia was one of the rare Camp Half-Blood campers with an actual power from her godly heritage, that she could cause smaller wounds to heal if she just focused enough; she was always too cheerful, too trusting, too weak for anyone to take her seriously, let alone allow her to put herself in danger just because she wanted the thrill of adventure.

As much as it hurt - as much as she knew everyone else was wrong about her, they had to be - Lydia had resigned herself to always being blocked from what she wanted. She trained as hard as she possibly could every summer, in combat and survival skills and even honing her healing power, striving like Tartarus to be good enough that Chiron would finally deem her ready, and in the meantime, she hung out with Annabeth and dreaded going back to school when the summer ended and tried, always in vain, to get Mr. D to agree to let her arrange a camp-wide musical production. But she’s been going to Camp Half-Blood since she was seven, and now she’s twelve, and it’s starting to seem like the opportunity for her to go on a quest is never going to come… until Percy Jackson stumbles into camp having just killed a minotaur and is told he’ll have to locate Zeus’s Master Bolt and prevent an Olympus-wide war.

Seeing her chance finally arriving, and not about to let the fact that half-blood quests are typically done in threes stop her, Lydia sneaks out of camp and follows Percy, Grover, and Annabeth, gleeful when it’s too late to send her back by the time they even realize she’s come along. She’s absolutely thrilled to finally be taking part in a quest, to experience the high stakes and adventure she’s been aching for for so long - until their little band nearly gets turned to stone and killed by a chimera in rapid succession, and Lydia starts to think that maybe everyone was right about her not being ready for this after all.

Still, though, Lydia does have her best friend, a really nice satyr, and a sarcastic forbidden kid who’s actually kind of cute, as well as her typical bright smile, boundless determination, and arsenal of classic musical theatre songs. So maybe, just maybe, this quest that she isn’t even supposed to be on might not turn out so terribly after all.

If Zeus doesn’t smite her for helping the kid he suspects to be a thief. Or her father doesn’t smite her for going on a quest without his permission. Or her moms don’t ground her for life when they find out, or Chiron doesn’t give her that disappointed look he does so well, or all four of them don’t get killed along the way, or - okay, why did she leave camp again? ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @oneirataxia-girl, @ocappreciationtag.

[simplegenius042]

WIP Roundup

Rules: Post the names of all (or some of) the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Tagged by @direwombat (than you so much for the tag) to share what I have cooking up in my folder. I'll only share some as there are way too many to fit in one post (...unless... no, begone devil thoughts!). I have four folders, one each for The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters, and some extra stuff that don't belong in the three universes above (includes Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore).

Anyway, below the cut is the WIP names (and their respective series they belong to) as well as the people I'm tagging. Just like direwombat (though a little differently), I will be listing them by active, snippets, or shelved. Enjoy!

[P.S I'm about to ruin my exact number of 4,000 posts LOL! Damn who knew I'd get that high]

ACTIVE WIPS (e.g. WIPs that are either published or that I am actively working on)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> Jurassic World Before The Storm

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

The Years In Hope County (FC5)

Silva's Hope (FC5)

Life, Despair & Monsters

One By One, The Towers Crack folder -> Sonya's Push - Jennifer's Story (Love Death + Robots)

SNIPPETS (e.g. WIPs I've only shown through snippets and have been bouncing back and forth between and/or can only publish once another WIP is finished)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> A Blast In The Past (original work influenced/inspired by Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

A Truce, As Null And Void As Yourself (FC5)

La Última En Pie (Kind of Original Work with references to FC5 and adapted/AU characters from The Masquerade, The Bone Season, Mermaids of Eriana Kwai, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, The Locked Tomb and Rapunzel's Tangled Adventures)

No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden (FC5)

The True Sinners (FC5)

You're Almost Like Family (FC5)

Life, Despair & Monsters

On Strong Foundations, The Tower Stands folder -> Miraculous Miracles: Tales of Hatter and his Two Buds (Miraculous)

Original Works and Other Series

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> It's A Matter of Perspective, Really... (FO3)

SHELVED (e.g. WIPs that I've currently put on the shelf as of now until I have the time and motivation to write or WIPs that haunt my dreams)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> The Dark Awakening (Original Work inspired/influenced by Bendy and the Ink Machine)

The Omniscience Rule saga -> All Who Remain (The Last Of Us)

The UnTitled Ventures saga -> UnTitled Venture: Village Of Shadows (Resident Evil Village)

Mario: Mother's Boy (Original Work)

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

Old Dusk (FCND)

Call To Arms (COD: MW)

Ain't It A Joy? (We Happy Few)

No One's Safe At Home (Welcome To The Game)

Far Cry The Judge's Duty AU -> What Are The Chances? (FC5/FCND-ish)

Lady, Running Down To The Riptide (Taken Away To The Dark Side) (FC5 AU influenced by Bioshock Infinite)

Life, Despair & Monsters

Enemies Crawl, Along The Tower's Walls folder -> Word Of Woe - Wednesday Addams' Story (Wednesday)

On Strong Foundations, The Towers Stand folder -> The Thorned Crown Of Iron Thrones - Corvus Targaryen's Story (House Of The Dragon)

Original Works and Other Series

Wings And Horns (Original Work)

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> The Waters Of Life Flow (FO3).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> The House Always Wins (FONV).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> A Symbol For A Better World (Our World) (FO4).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> Vault Number 76 (FO76).

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @strafethesesinners @wrathfulrook @g0dspeeed @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @bitchofedensgate @inafieldofdaisies @softtidesworld @minilev @snake-in-the-garden @afarcryfrommymain @nightbloodbix @derelictheretic @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @dephellseed @fourlittleseedlings @cassietrn @chazz-anova @voidika @onehornedbeast @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @skoll-sun-eater @neverthesameneveranother and @ladyoriza + anyone else who wants to share their wip list!)

[drurrito]

a/n: untitled beach fic; another shot at writing smut; 18+ only

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Submissive!Reader

warnings: some degradation; light choking; cursing; dry(?) humping...

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

"You haven't looked at me the entire time we've been here, you know?"

The water is suddenly ice-cold and your muscles bunch up into one big knot. You turn to look at Natasha for the first time since you pulled up to the beach and the realization that she would be in nothing but a bikini for the entire day smacked you in the face like a stray frisbee.

"What?" You try to sound offended. Natasha holds your gaze. Your freshly sunscreened face begins to burn. You look back towards the shore where the rest of your friends are tanning, talking, and laughing. Steve chucks a football far enough to make Bucky sprint after it, but he trips over a kid's abandoned sandcastle head-first. You thought you could find reprieve in the water after a few minutes of just staring at your toes in the sand while Sam talked about bar-hopping last night. You watched Natasha follow you into the water the same way a bleeding seal watches a circling shark's fin.

"Haven't I?" You ask, your eyes briefly passing over Natasha's form. She watches you flounder in the water. You're wishing and hoping for a wave to swallow you whole right now.

"I wouldn't have said anything if that were true."

"Right," you run a shaky hand through your hair and collect yourself enough to look Natasha in the eyes once more. She's closer now, your eyes dive into the shrinking space between you and her.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

Your eyes resurface, landing on hers, "no, not at all!"

Natasha moves closer, you fight the urge to look away, you can't let her think you don't like her.

Because you do, you do like her. So much so that you can't focus on her in that bikini for more than mere seconds. Any longer and you just might faint, or melt into the sand, or both.

You're in a staring contest with her now, you're determined to count every speck of amber floating in her deep green eyes and--

Natasha is moving even closer now, this time she goes left--then right--then left again--your eyes track her perfectly, not once straying away from her pupils.

"Huh," she tilts her head in amusement as a small wave swells and rolls through you both before crashing onto shore. You still don't break eye contact, only letting your eyes bounce around the borderlands of her irises.

"You can't look at me, can you?" Natasha smirks and you flinch, finally blinking.

"I'm looking at you right now?"

"At my eyes, yes," another wave rolls by, a bit bigger than the last, "but only my eyes."

You swallow down a wad of nerves. Natasha is a riptide ready to pull you under. You’re thinking about how hard you need to push against the Earth below you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible.

“I’m just—“

“Being respectful, I know baby,” Natasha cuts you off—you’re too stuck on how easily those words rolled off her tongue to notice that her bare torso is only a hair away from touching yours.

Another wave, even bigger this time, throws Natasha off balance, sending her right into you. Your arms quickly shoot out to catch her while her own arms hook around your neck to steady herself. You’re actually looking at her, scanning her body for anything that can tell you this is just a fluke. Your mind is screaming at you to let her go and bolt but your body betrays you by keeping her close.

By the time you both collided, the water had risen high enough to kiss the space right below your chests. To the rest of the beach, you both basically look floating heads. You admire Natasha’s profile as she looks out towards the beach for a few moments before turning her attention on you. You barely catch the stormy look in her eyes before you’re reminded of her arms around your neck when her nails graze the base of your skull.

“Do I make you nervous?” Her tone is dark now. Your body goes rigid while your mind fumbles around for an answer. You nod, no use in lying now, not when Natasha could probably feel your heart beating against your rib cage since she’s so close.

“Say it.”

“Yes, you make me nervous,” you do a piss-poor job of trying to keep your voice from trembling with want. Natasha’s lips curl into a smile and she chuckles. You start seeing stars.

“Don’t be,” Natasha starts to pull you impossibly closer and you meet her halfway. She only gives you a few seconds to process the fact that she’s kissing you before she slides her thigh between your legs. Your spine feels a chill under the hot sun.

“Do you wanna be good for me?”

You couldn’t look any dopier, nodding with your jaw hanging low.

“Words baby.”

“Yes,” you sound dumber than you look.

“Then start humping.”

You cough like you just swallowed a gallon of saltwater, “what?”

“I know you heard me.”

“Right…right now?” You sputter, frantically looking back towards the beach, “in front of everyone?”

Natasha roughly grabs you by the chin to pull your attention back to her.

“Start. Humping.”

Her hand lowers to clamp around your throat and that makes your knees buckle. Your arms tighten around her waist and your body dips down until you feel her thigh against your core. You let out a surprised grunt and Natasha smirks while she watches you begin to find a rhythm. It feels good, too good to stop. Your eyes flutter and threaten to roll back into your head, your body overwhelmed by how much you want this, how much you wanted to do this for a while.

“You look deliciously pathetic you know that right? Humping my leg for everyone to see,” Natasha mocks as your pace hastens. You rest your forehead on her shoulder to try and keep yourself afloat.

“Fuck,” you hiss, grinding harder and faster against Natasha’s thigh. You’re not even going to chance a look to see if anyone is actually watching you both. The longer this goes on, the less you seem to care anyway. You litter the sun kissed window of her cleavage with sloppy, desperate, open-mouthed kisses. Your hands groping and grabbing at her waist, her thighs, her ass, anything that can help you get a better grip and bring you as close as you can get to her without having to jump into her skin.

“So needy—like you’ve been dreaming about this,” she teases, you blush. Her hand glides from the back of your head to the tip of your chin and lifts it, “look at me.”

You obey without a second thought, a small whimper escaping your lips when you do. 

“That’s it,” she patronizingly coos as her nails dig a little deeper into your jaw, it stings in the best way.

When you finally look around, you realize the water isn’t covering you as much as it was a bit ago.

“Shit, the tide—” your movements start to slow, but there’s no chance you’re stopping.

“Better hurry then,” Natasha’s hand on your jaw moves down to your throat to give it another squeeze, “you want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, your whole body is buzzing.

“Then don’t keep me waiting, or else everyone will get to see what a pitiful fucking sight you are right now.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you don’t waste another second to quicken the movement of your hips.  Before you know it, your senses are electrified, the pressure against your cunt becomes borderline overwhelming.

“I’m—I’m close—" You stammer against her neck, your hips bucking erratically against her thigh. You feel her laugh rumbling through your lips when you open your eyes and—

“Fuck.”

“Whiny little mutt,” Natasha scoffs.

“No, there’s…there’s a wave coming right at us,” your eyes widen but you don’t stop, you’re too close to give up. You keep going, growing more frenzied as the wave swells to the biggest one you’ve seen since you been here.

You only get moments to appreciate the high you worked so hard to chase before you have to throw yourself and Natasha under the so it doesn’t wipe you out.

You both come up laughing, Natasha pulls you in for a kiss, smiling against each other’s lips.

[astradreaming]

Please write ares x percy's older sister!reader i have read literally ever fic of him on here

I personally have been reloading the ares tag way too often 😫😫 Sorry the ending is kinda rushed, my duolingo streak nearly finished and then i got distracted 😔

masterlist

Caught.

Percy Jackson had been through a lot.

From quests to prophesies, from Alaska to Greece but he finally thought he'd lost his mind.

He had been having a relatively quiet morning, from having his favourite blue breakfast to having a day off of activities due to the hot summer day.

He was currently walking around the edge of camp for something to do when he froze mid-step in shock at the sight of the God of War standing at the gates of Camp Half-Blood talking to none other than you, his dearest older sister.

At first Percy thought he was offering (demanding) you a quest, it had been known on occasion that Olympians would sought out both you and him for their bidding.

As Percy got closer to you (about to demand that Ares find someone else to bother) he realized that that wasn't the case at all.

Ares stood with crosed arms leaning against the gateway, his head would tilt to match yours as you talked. You were standing close, too close. Everytime you laughed at something he'd said, which Percy doubted was even that funny, your side would brush his.

A werid contrast of orange camp shirt, light blue summer shorts, white sneakers next to his leather jacket and dark blue jeans, black boots.

Percy could now see Ares disgusting face against yours in a heated kiss.

"You know that offer is still on the table" Ares' voice in a playful tone that had Percy involuntarily gagging at.

"Not just yet" To Percy's utter surprise your voice was soft as if you were sadden at the fact you could take whatever offer he'd given you.

"What the actual fuck?" Percy's words slipped before his mind caught up.

You jolted away at the intrusion, your wide eyes meeting Percy's. Ares barely turns his head at the abruption, the only indication he'd even heard Percy was the way his eyes narrowed at him.

"Percy! Why aren't you with Annabeth? You said-"

Percy harshly cut you off, stepping closer to you.

"Why aren't I with Annabeth? Why are you with him!"

Percy watches as you start blubbering trying to figure out what to say, when a hand lands in your shoulder, Ares' hand.

"Get off my sister! You fucker!"

Percy reached out to wack his hand away from you but Ares pushes his shoulder, evading Percy's grasp.

"I fought you once Ares I'll do it again!" He said digging his feet into the ground, reaching into his pocket for Riptide.

Just as Percy was about to uncap Riptide, Ares turned to face you, eyes speaking in a silent conversation, making Percy pause his movements before Ares turned back towards Percy.

"Look kid, as much as I would love to send you on a permanent vacation down with uncle H, I've unfortunately promised a certain someone to not to that" He shrugged as he spoke as if this entire conversation was boring him to an early death.

"Who has made you swear it? My dad? Beacuse when have you ever-"

Ares scoffed quickly dismissing him to face you instead.

"This kid's a fuckin idiot, how's he still alive I mean seriously-"

You glared at Ares as you moved closer to Percy, blocking the two from each other.

"I made him swear it, because you're my little brother and I knew if you found out you'd flip out!"

Percy's heart nearly gave out and if it weren't for years of training to fight he was sure it would have.

"Found out? Oh my gods you're- with him? Him! Ugh, this is the worst day of my life." Percy whined, he knew he sounded like a brat but truthfully the whole thing was making him cringe but one look at your face told him to quickly drop it.

After a moment of painful awkward silence that had Percy's mind running in circles trying to move on.

"How'd you even get him to swear that" Percy said finally finding his voice.

You glanced behind you before quickly looking back at Percy, leaning in as if to tell a secret, Percy leaned in too, not wanting to miss hearing what dirt you had on the Olympian.

"I told him I'd swear I wouldn't speak to him again. He lasted a day" You voice broke off into a fit of giggles.

He found it too funny.

Ares. God of War forever bloodthirsty and always a prick, was whipped for Percy's older sister, who looked after Percy throughout two titan wars and was the same girl who practically raised the younger campers so they wouldn't be lonely. A weird duo.

Percy Jackson looked up to see you shaking your head as you laughed at the memory. He also caught Ares looking at you too.

Although traumatized by the thought you two together he quickly brushed it off. It was unusual and unfortunate for Percy to admit but he and Ares did have two things in common.

Both of them would fight fate for you. And of course, Percy looks at Annabeth the same way Ares looks at you but Percy wouldn't exactly admit that too soon.

[envy-of-the-apple]

WAIT that wouldn't even be the first siren gojo fic i've heard about!! dont worry eev and i will do the good lord's work there bestie,,, u follow ur heart wherever it takes u even if i must cheer u on across the vast ocean of different fandom fixations <3

first of all, I was kidding about the siren gojo thing!!! Just putting it out there cuz like 3 ppl genuinely asked me a link to my discord 😭😭😭

but im so glad y’all are making a gojo fic cuz mermaid/siren gojo is lowkey so rare????? I’ve only seen like three with that kind of premise. Honestly any kind of nonhuman!gojo fic is honestly rlly rare which is surprising cuz his character is basically fighting to be human….

But here are a few I’ve found!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58331881

Lady, running down to the riptide

Shine on the Sea <—— a real fav. So so good!!!!

but ya any recs would be great! They’re so rareeeee

Yknow who is a real popular character who’s imagined as a mermaid??? Shinsho Hitoshi of all ppl. I’ve accidentally found like 10 mermaid fics of him. ????

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[sitkowski]

xo ( matt dierkes x oc)

pairing: matt dierkes x zephyr (oc) cw: no real warnings. a little bit of angst, a healthy dose of fluff, neighbors to lovers, making out, meddlesome…dogs? word count: 1.5k author's notes: this is my first matt centric fic (not the last there will be more of these two!!), and i had to fit him into the riptide verse. @darksigns-exe inspired the shirt that zephyr's wearing on their dinner (not) date 🫶🏻 title comes from the song by fall out boy (of course!). dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 🩷

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost

Apparently before the band made their decision to take their break, Zeus learned a new trick while Matt was on tour. He learned how to unlock the back gate, which is why he’s gone when Matt opens the sliding glass door to call him back into the house. It would have been nice if the neighbor kid who’d been looking after the dogs had thought to tell him about Zeus’ new trick when he came home. Boo is just sitting there by the open gate, as if to prove that he knows he isn’t supposed to be on the other side of it.

He brings Boo inside, relatches the gate and grabs Zeus’ leash and a couple of treats in case he needs to be coerced back to the house. He doesn’t think he could have gotten far, he wasn’t outside that long. Matt walks out his front door, looking left and right to see if he spots him right away. It’s not until he steps off the porch that he realizes Zeus didn’t go far at all. He’s sitting in the front lawn across the road, and he’s not alone. The girl sitting with him isn’t someone he’s seen there before, but he assumes she lives there. His dog is all but in her lap, soaking up the attention she’s giving him.

Walking across the street, Matt calls out to him, and Zeus pops his head up, wagging his tail at the sight of him. The girl waves at him and stands up, keeping a hand on Zeus’ collar so Matt can clip on his leash.

“I’m sorry, he came running right over as I was coming out of my place,” she explains. “We kind of have a ritual, he and I.”

“He staged a prison break, he’s not usually supposed to be off leash out front without me. Did Clay let him loose a lot?”

“Oh no, not at all! I’d just say hi to him on his walks, maybe sneak in a treat or two,” She holds out her hand. “I’m Zephyr.”

“Matt,” he shakes her hand, and then looks down at Zeus. “This little criminal is Zeus, in case you didn’t know that already.”

Zephyr smiles brightly, reaching down to pat the top of his head, “Yeah, I read his tags.”

Matt feels himself blushing a little, and he nods, “Well, thanks for making sure he stayed put. I’m gonna have to secure the back gate better so he won’t get out again.”

“If he does, I’ll be sure to bring him back to you.” 

He thanks her again, and takes Zeus home. The gate is an easy fix, and both the dogs stay put. But now he sees Zephyr every morning, and every night when he walks the dogs. He feels like it would be rude to ignore her, so they stop and chat with each other. Boo and Zeus both seem familiar with her, and that itself is a green flag for him. He thinks it’s cute that she does have a bag of treats on her to sneak the dogs, apparently she does it for every dog in the neighborhood.

Eventually, it progresses to Zephyr coming on the walks with them, her holding onto Zeus’ leash and Matt with Boo’s. He tells her about touring, she tells him about her catering business. Somehow, these walks turn into her promising to make him dinner. Matt can’t believe that it’s happened as fast as it has, but time seems to slow down when they’re off tour and he has to get used to moving at a normal pace again. So, he agrees to dinner after Nicholas, Jolly and Noah all bully him into it via text messages when he tells them about Zephyr.

He tells himself it’s not a date, it’s just dinner between neighbors. Even though he doesn’t think that Mr. Birkhoff from next door has ever invited him over for anything ever. It’s been a few weeks of evening walks and long conversations, a few shared beers on his back porch while the dogs run around in the yard. And yeah, he’s thought about it being more, even when his mind is normally consumed with work and touring. This is the longest break they’ve had in a while, and he knows that everyone else is using it to their advantage. He should be too.

Matt almost talks himself out of it twice before he’s standing on Zephyr’s front porch one Friday evening. He rings the doorbell and waits, second guessing himself until the door opens and he sees her. She’s wearing a shirt that says #yeetisildur in elvish and he really hopes she can’t see the sudden hearts in his eyes right now. Smiling that bright smile of hers, Zephyr steps aside to let him in.

“Whatever you’re making smells great,” he compliments as she leads him into her kitchen.

“We’re having homemade mac and cheese, sriracha maple brussel sprouts and grilled chicken breasts.”

Matt leans against the counter, accepting the Dr. Pepper she offers him from the refrigerator. “Are you interested in locking me in your basement and making me your personal guinea pig?”

It sounds ridiculous when he says it but she still laughs, knocking her bottle against his. “Just so you know, there’s a homemade dessert for after.”

“No seriously, the band can figure out the sound without me.”

“It’s called sex in a pan.”

Obviously she was waiting to seize her moment, because she says it the second he takes a drink, and predictably, he chokes. Soda nearly shoots out of his nose, and Zephyr just giggles and pats him on the back before she passes him a paper towel.

“I couldn’t help it, I’m very sorry,” she says, “I promise to behave the rest of the night.”

Matt doubts it.

Dinner’s great, and Zephyr blushes every time he tells her how good it is. The conversation over dinner gets a little heavier than their usual night time walk chats; for a brief moment Matt thinks she’s eventually going to ask about how the band is handling the break. He didn’t miss seeing the familiar vinyls stacked by her record player, even though she’s got a whole bunch of random stuff there. But it wouldn’t be the first time. She doesn’t mention them once though. Instead, they’re talking about her dad who taught her how to cook before he passed away, and Matt’s got a feeling she doesn't talk about him often. 

After they eat and he has two pieces of the dessert that she made, Matt helps Zephyr with the dishes despite her protests. And when the night is over, she walks with him out onto her front porch, kisses his cheek softly to say goodnight, a barely there brush of her lips that he feels more than he should. She’s still standing there when Matt lets himself into his place, waiting for him to get inside.

Matt hasn’t done this in a long time. He doesn’t really know how to go about it with someone like Zephyr, who has no expectations of him. The longer he knows her, the closer they get. The more open she is with him. It’s a new feeling, becoming friends with someone and the crush just hitting him smack in the middle of his chest while they’re watching Chopped reruns at his place, a dog on either side of them.

They’re playfully arguing about which dish was going to make it through to the next round when Matt turns his head and leans in to kiss her. She doesn’t seem as if she’s expecting it, and he likes catching her by surprise. He starts to pull back but she reaches out and curls her hand around the back of his head, pulling him in and kissing him again. She sinks her fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. They break apart once, to catch their breath, before she’s pulling him back in. Matt puts a hand on her thigh, trying to pull her closer. 

But then there’s a big problem, because Zeus realizes that someone else is getting attention, and leaps over Matt to worm his way between him and Zephyr. She lets out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around him and putting her chin on top of his head.

“Sorry, I think you have competition for my affections,” she says as Zeus’ tail keeps thumping against Matt’s chest. If he didn’t know any better, his damn dog was smiling at him. “Looks like you’ve gotta step up your game, Dierkes.”

Matt looks from her to Zeus, to Boo who seems content to just watch the steak being sliced on the screen. “Okay, who wants a treat? And to go play in the back yard where I can close the door for five minutes?”

Both dogs are up and running for the kitchen at the word treat and Zephyr grins, fisting her hand in Matt’s shirt to tug him closer for another kiss before they notice he’s not getting up yet.

⇉ taglist

@deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @baddestomens

@dominuslunae @malice-ov-mercy @rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier

@sorrowofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @thatchickwiththecamera @collidewiththesavannah

@th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[dawnoftime22]

"be soft please, I love like the entire world is about to fall apart."

| W.M ( -> N.R )

Undeserving of a love like yours, Chapter 3

Chapter Warnings: tense/awkward conversations, slightly competitive r and wanda, but fluff in those parts, has it been proofread? I don't remember, but I'm hoping it is

Summary: Your mind starts to get louder with worries, and you can't tell if you're making it up. Wanda invites you along to some time together, hoping to relieve the odd built up energy between you.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 3.7k

Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort...Angst if you squint?

A/N: really the first few chapters is just an excuse for me being able to write fluff for wanda for a bit (I'm kidding) but I'll be very busy in feb, so if I don't seem to be as active, that's why. but I'll try my best to keep posting the fics. okay love u all<3

| Started on 11/01/2024, 1:44 PM |

| Finished on 19/01/2024, 2:23 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 2 Chapter 4 ->

"but are your words true to your soul?"

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

-- - 5 days later...

You were sat at the reading space in your bedroom, holding a warm mug filled with tea. The window was open just slightly, letting air in. The sun was going down, and the sky was turning into a shade of blue, holding little of any orange.

You sigh and check your phone, the time showing 6:58 PM, but there were no new notifications.

You unlock your phone and go to your messages, looking at the texts you've sent Wanda. Not a single response yet. You brushed it off as her being busy, but now you were getting worried.

After a few seconds, the bubble of the dots come up. Although late, you now see a gray message than just your own blue one.

I stole one of your hoodies :)

it's one of your favorites, so I just thought

if you're searching for it, I have it

11:29 PM Today

do you want to bake some cookies

when you're free?

2:34 PM Today

Read Just Now

omw home now ❤️

6:59 PM Today

Read Just Now

Your eyebrows furrow as your eyes go over the words again, no other ones going along with it, and the dots had disappeared when the message sent. Had you annoyed her? You couldn't have. She was probably just driving and didn't have time to type more. Right?

You turn off your phone and look back at the window. The streetlights had turned on, illuminating the streets and trees nearby. Your eyes flicker down to your mug though, watching the drink make small riptides with the smallest movements you did.

You take another sip and finish off your tea, letting the warm liquid run down your throat before moving to stand up, the soft seat meeting your skin as you push off it.

The bedroom has a cozy atmosphere, the dim lights keeping the place dark, but still well lit. You don't stay for any longer though, with your path leading towards the kitchen.

You put your empty mug in the sink, but clean it with the dish soap and washing it off, to then putting it on the drying rack, having decided to keep the sink empty.

You rest your arms on the kitchen counter, a yawn escaping your mouth and your eyes water up, leading to the smallest tear leaving them. Your elbow replaces your sleeves on the counter instead, your hands moving to run themselves over your face and covering it. You move your fingers to wipe your stained cheeks.

After doing so, one palm of your hand held your jaw, the other one drifting down to rest on the counter once more. You stare at the dark kitchen wall, hoping time would pass by quicker.

A key was inserted in the front door. You heard it clearly echoing through the large room with the quiet silence. You turn to look, and it opens. A brunette walks through the entrance, but you don't move. You just watch.

She closes the door and turn the lock, then takes off her shoes and her jacket. She takes notice of your presence when she looks up, but not much of a smile went on her face. Bad day, perhaps.

"Hey. I came home on time." She says, her jacket hanging on her shoulder as she puts her hand in her pockets and walk closer to you.

"Hi." You say, your response short while you turned around completely and leaned back on the counter. She purses her lips and looks down, remembering she didn't get anything for you on the way, so all her hands were available to do was hide in her pockets, not knowing what to do with them.

You notice that, and you continue talking, not wanting an awkward silence to fall upon the two of you.

"I uh, didn't make anything for dinner. But we can order take-out or something if you'd like." You raise your eyebrows in question with your offer, and she looks back up at you.

"Oh, that's alright. I already ate on the way here," she says, with a gentle shake of her head. Your heart felt like it fell just a little, but something stopped it just inches before it hit the ground.

"Are you hungry though? We can order some either way," she asks, worrying your needs haven't been met yet while hers, has.

"No. No, it's fine, I had a sandwich earlier." You give her a small smile. Her attention drifts off to a blank space in the room, her head moving to nod, but her eyes not once going to yours, only focused on the wall behind you.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." She points to the bedroom with her thumb, her feet taking her away to clear herself from the living room.

You stand there for a second, shifting your body and contemplating a decision before pushing off the counter, the cold marble meeting the skin of your hands. You follow her once she's already in the bathroom, knowing the conversation was awkward enough.

You make your way across the room, going to the window to close it along with the blinds. Once that was done, you walk to the bed, the soft mattress dipping with your body as you sat on it.

The sounds of the shower could be heard even from outside the bathroom. You didn't mind it much and grabbed the tv remote, deciding to put something on.

You scroll through the lists of films and end up going with a rom-com Wanda loves. You got comfortable in bed, pulling up the blanket for warmth.

You didn't notice through the laughs in the show and talking, but the running water had stopped for a while, and the bathroom door opened with Wanda wearing her pajamas.

You look at her, and see her eyes focused on the tv screen, a smile raising on her lips before she saw you on the bed.

"You're playing my show," she said, as another funny scene plays and laughter erupts in the audience within the tv. You try your best not to smile too hard in making her face brighten up a bit.

"Yes, now get in bed and cuddle with me." You open up your arms, turning on your side and pouting. Wanda shakes her head with a smile and walks to the bed, sitting down next to you and shuffling closer until your bodies touch.

She pulls the covers up her body as you did earlier, and you help her, of course, not being a blanket hogger. You lean into her, your eyes focusing back on the tv screen.

She shifts until she's comfortable and then puts one of her arms around your back, the other one at your front, going around your waist. You look up, and she was focused on the show. Her heartbeat can be heard thumping against her chest with how close you were.

Your legs was tangled with hers, and she held you closely. Eventually, she looks down on you, her green eyes shining even within the dim lighting. She brushes her finger against your cheek, and you know you can't ever resist her.

Your gaze travels back up to her, and her eyes searched your eyes for something. What? You didn't know. But a certain sadness swirled in her pupils, you can see it.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy lately," she whispers, her hand dropping back down to rest on your waist. You snuggle closer to her, one side of your cheek against her shoulder.

"It's okay. I just wish work would take it easy on you." Your hand goes up, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt. She keeps watch on you, her lips tucked in as she thinks of something in her mind.

"I have an idea." You pause your movement and curiously look at her, wondering what's to come. She takes a gentle breath before continuing.

"Do you wanna go to the beach tomorrow?" She offers you, and your eyes gleamed with happiness. Her lips raise up slightly face when she sees you brighten up.

"Yeah! I'd love to." You say, your voice filled with genuine excitement, having missed spending time with her. Her smile grows and she turns back to the tv.

The rest of the night, you spent in each other's embrace. You were the first to go to sleep peacefully, and Wanda had turned off the tv, following you along.

In the morning, both you and Wanda are sleeping soundly, the blanket and her arms still around you are keeping you warm.

The only movement was of the breathing of two bodies. That was, until you slowly stir, your mind awakening to the sun slowly brightening the skies. Your eyes slowly open, sleep invading your vision, blurring it.

You blink it away and move to rub your eye with a single finger just for a second before yawning, turning to the still sleeping brunette beside you.

It was the first time in a while she was there in bed with you while it was the morning, with her being so busy lately. You take the moment to indulge in being so close to her, in her arms, safe again.

Your fingers trace some meaningless patterns near her neckline, your head resting against her shoulder.

It didn't take long for her to soon wake up, just minutes later. You pause your movements, looking at how her eyelids slowly open, her eyes taking in the scene around her and registering that it was now morning.

She notices the touch of your finger on her skin along with your own pair of eyes, making her glance down.

"Morning, детка," she whispers, her morning voice only reaching your ears and not even the walls due to her saying it under her breath.

"Morning," you reply softly, continuing your hand's movement. Her lips raise up slightly and she closes her eyes, her arms releasing their hold on you to stretch for a moment before leaning her head closer to yours.

"You excited for today?" You ask, your eyes on hers. She goes to look at you for a second before replying.

"Of course I am." She said, her tongue going out slightly to rid of the dryness in her lips that her sleep caused.

"We're going to the beach. So, we can relax, splash water on each other, make sandcastles..." She trails off when she sees your eyes gleam at not just the first few words, but specifically her mentioning of building sandcastles.

"And I'm going to challenge you in a sandcastle contest." You say, and she tries her hardest not to break out into a big grin at how determined you were to do such a thing.

"Oh, really? Well I'm going to beat you in it!" she says, her voice slow and a quiet volume at first until her last few words, exclaiming as if she was trying to scare you, although with a soft voice.

"We'll see, we'll see." You say with your eyebrows raised, eager to win. At that, a laugh comes from her lips like a gentle melody.

The small laugh she did was short, but your heart still warmed just the same as the morning sunshine that peeked through the windows.

"Do you wanna go shower first, or should I?" You ask her, leaning back slightly to either get out of bed and go to the bathroom, or let her go.

"You can go shower first, sweetheart." She says with a soft smile. You nod, and her hands move to let you get out of bed.

You went to grab some clothes from the closet while Wanda unplugs her phone from the charger, checking the time. It was 8:24 AM. Certainly early, but not too early or late for the sun to be too sunny in the morning for your time at the beach.

You go into the bathroom and turn on the shower once you had your clothes off, making sure the temperature was just right. The shower gel was gentle on your skin, the aroma filling up the bathroom and making itself out to the bedroom, the familiar scent comforting the brunette outside the bathroom.

Soon enough you get done with showering and you step out with a towel. Wanda's eyes linger on you for a short while before returning to her phone. You blush as you made your way to your clothes on the bed.

She gets up and gets her own clothes and towel, to then shower herself. You put on your clothes when she closed the bathroom door. You plop on the bed, the soft mattress slightly going down with the change of weight.

You hear Wanda's phone make a notification sound, but you don't mind it much, and grab a hairbrush to fix up your hair a bit.

Wanda was quick with her shower, she came out and while you grabbed your phone and got ready with the other items, she wore her clothes, a loose thin jacket and a swimsuit underneath.

You turn to look at her softly, your eyes focused on hers. She was looking around the room, making sure you got everything.

"You ready to go?" You ask, and she hums her answer of a yes, grabbing her sunglasses on the bedside table and putting it on, now fully giving a beach look.

"Let's go, then." You walk out the bedroom with her behind you, going to the front door and opening it. The weather outside was perfect and clear.

Wanda locks the door with her house keys and goes to the car next to yours, which is of course, hers. You go to the passenger side, settling down into the seat as she turns on the engine.

She gets out the driveway and starts the journey to the beach, turning on the radio after a few minutes of quietness. Some Rihanna song is playing, setting a peaceful mood, but also making you want to move along to the beat.

The drive was short, seeing as your house wasn't too far away from the beach. The both of you were out the car when you had arrived, the crashes of the waves coming onto shore and visiting the sand could already be heard along with the strong wind.

You walk together to the beach, the sand hitting your sandals and feet as you go. Wanda's hands held beach towels so you could rest and lay down together.

When you find a perfect place where not many people were, that was when she set up the spot with the towels and sat down. You watch her, a smile growing on your face at the thought floating in your head.

"So...sandcastle competition time?" You ask her, and she shakes her head at your quick question, even right when she sat down. But a smile was present on her face.

"You're on!" She says, and goes to the side of the beach blanket, starting her little sandcastle, and you scramble to find your own place. She giggles, seeing you panic at her fast answer. You had sat right in front of her, working away with the sand.

After a few minutes, the two of you finish up, and both was perfect in every way. Although some parts were starting to fall apart. But it was still holding up good. Wanda looks at them, surprise over her face just as you were.

"Yours is...wow." She says, normally at first then to surprise with her eyebrows raised and a small laugh. Yours were big, but not all that much bigger than hers. You just had a tinge few little more details...and a small flag atop the castle. Where had you gotten it? She didn't know. You must've hidden it away in your pocket, she thought.

"If I'm going to be honest with you, yours look amazing. But mine is..." You stop when she cuts you off with a hum and a tilt of her head, her eyes narrowing their gaze on you as a warning.

"Hmm, well I think that we...have a tie!!" she gently pushes you on the beach blanket and tickles you, making shock fill your face, but laughs making sound from your chest.

"Wait, no!" You say between the giggling and laughing, her hands easily finding all the spots that you're ticklish at.

"Say it, or I won't stop!" She said, continuing on with no mercy. You were kicking your legs a little, but she was on your lap, so it did nothing.

"Okay! Okay, we have a tie!!" You surrender, the laughs getting tiring. She stops her attack on you, the both of you smiling brightly even though she had made you breathless.

She lays down beside you, catching her own breath even though she was the one who tickled you. But a giggle sounded out from her, having joy lingering from earlier.

A quietness went over the place other than the occasional seagulls in the sky and flapping their wings and on the sand, just near where the water kept coming in small waves.

Wanda moved closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder while you looked down on her. Your arms go to rest on the side of her waist, the warmth of your bodies keeping you in a decent temperature while the wind came and went by.

Your mind started to wander off, and your eyes travel way off over to the view of the ocean, the skies holding clouds melting within the blue. There was nothing in the distance but the ocean.

"Be honest," you start quietly, making Wanda curiously look up at you. Your hands had went to fiddle with hers, taking out one of her rings every now and then and playing with them, then putting it back into her fingers.

"...Are you starting to dislike me?" You mumble, trying to not make it too obvious that your thoughts were awfully loud. She notices you distracting yourself with her rings and fingers, making her look at you softly.

"What? No. I could never." Wanda's eyebrows furrow as her face fills with concern. She props herself up with her other hand that you weren't holding, looking into your eyes.

"What makes you say that?" She questions, as if oblivious to anything that's ever happened. You bit down on your lip and teared your eyes away from hers, looking at the sandcastles beside you.

"Okay. I know you've been busy, it's just...nevermind, it's stupid." Now her eyes sadden and she lets out a quiet sigh. She moves her hand to hold yours entirely, giving you an assuring squeeze.

"Hey...don't do that to yourself, малышка." She says softly, rubbing her thumb on the skin of your hand gently, hoping the motion will soothe you a little.

"I love you." She lets go of your hand and cups one side of your cheek, while going to place a soft kiss on the other side. She brushes her thumb on your lips now, making your teeth release it. It took everything in you to not break right then and there.

"I love you, too," you whisper, leaning into her touch. The sand moved with the wind just slightly, and even took a few layers off the sandcastles you had made.

"Don't ever blame yourself for anything between us." She shakes her head while saying it. Her voice was soft, and you look at her. You couldn't tell what the look in her eyes were, but you know you've seen it before.

You didn't give a reply. She didn't want one anyway. A silence washes over you like how the water washes the sand with it's gentle touch. She goes over her thoughts as she looked at your face.

"Do you wanna go to the water?" she asks, breaking the silence and looking at the ocean. Your eyes flicker to her before you look at the water, too.

"Yeah." You nod, and she smiles, pushing herself up to stand. You take her hand when she offered it, your legs moving to get you up.

Wanda takes off her thin jacket and kicks off her sandals, the sand meeting her feet as she walked closer to the water. You follow her, having gotten yours off too.

The water hits both of your feet, making a shiver run down your spine at the coldness of it. Wanda was already in to her waistline, but not going any farther than that. You continue on until you were close to her.

You feel the water with your skin and hands and the small waves that come and go, a feeling that had always calmed you. Your body starts getting used to the temperature, and it wasn't awfully freezing.

"How big of a splash can you make?" You ask casually, not really going in any direction with your small conversation, but she looks at you with her eyebrows raised.

"Is that a challenge?" She asks, watching you play around with the water and see the small waves that you make.

"Maybe." You tilt your head playfully, suggesting so, but only trying to feel the lovely beach air. The water keeps cascading against your bodies, while your hands go to rest on her shoulders, admiring her with the ocean in the background.

She smiles, and you could see the mischief in them. It made you curious, but then she splashed water lightly towards you, making you gasp. You splash back, initiating a battle of hitting water against each other, and each other's faces.

"Stop!" You shout, giggling along with her as you shielded yourself with your arms. She had done a big wave of a splash, making your hair soaked.

You wipe the rest of the water off your face, needing to breathe. You move your hand just slightly to do another small attack of water to her, but that was the end of it. You move away with a cheeky smile on your face and get out the water.

She laughed, knowing she won as you surrendered. The sun shone down on the both of you, although making you warm and the water glimmer with the light, the wind that breezed by made your bones tingle.

You walked back to the spot you picked out, sitting back down on it. She stays in the water for a while longer, taking in the refreshing feeling.

Soon after, she joins you, putting back on her thin jacket to defend herself against the wind. You welcome her into your arms, and she goes into your embrace just the same as the way the clouds enveloped the sun.

end of chapter 3. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 2 Chapter 4 ->

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taglist <3 - join here! :]

@may-z3 @ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @justanotherteenpoet @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @simp-erformarvelwomen @marvelwomen-simp

[impossiblesuitcase]

hii, how are you? I was wondering if you could write something like Cinder being sick or in pain and Kai taking care of her, I've had this in my head for so long!

Drowning. She's back in the water, thrashing her arms for leverage, her ears filling and throwing her balance into a blender. The iciness covers her arms, her legs, her spine. She gasps and splutters, hoping to fill her lungs with whatever she can. Something insidious enters her throat; not water, but noxious smoke. It incinerates the water in its heat.

The lake empties out beneath her. She screams as she plummets but doesn't feel the impact. Her fall is cushioned by the fire that rises up to catch her.

Cinder gasps, limbs clawing to get out of this hell pit when they are pushed back down firmly.

"It's okay, you're okay."

She doesn't know where the voice comes from. Her mind is still coiled to attack, but her body becomes limp. It trusts the voice. Against her will, she allows the elements to overtake her. Somehow, the assuring voice has snuffed out the flames and dried up the riptides.

Cinder wakes in a haze. A hand is pushing hair off her brow and a damp cloth is pressed against her temple.

She instinctively tries to sit up.

"Hey, easy there," says the same voice. "Lie back. You're okay."

His face is hovering above hers when she opens her eyes. "Kai?" she croaks out, almost inaudibly.

"Hi, my love," he murmurs, smiling down at her. "You gave me a good fright today."

She weakly removes his hand from her forehead. It's hot and clammy, and she wants it cupping her cheek instead. When he allows her to move it and her forehead is still burning, she realises that perhaps it's not his hand that's feverish.

"Where am I?" she asks.

He adjusts her blankets and she shivers. "On your ship. I didn't want to move you just yet. Once you're better I'll get you inside the palace."

Vaguely, she collects her bearings. The room is dimly lit and yet still too bright for even her bionic eyes to handle. She forces them to focus. They are in her quarters on the personal ship used for Lunar's Earthen ambassador.

"You've been working too much," Kai reprimands gently. "Going from one climate to another when you're already fighting a cold is a recipe for a fever. It used to happen to me when I was travelling with my parents on diplomatic missions."

A fever. That's what the freezing and burning was. Cinder had felt run-down the past couple of days, and today was going to be her rest day. But she must have collapsed, because her last memory was half-consciously telling the pilot to take her home.

Her crew must know her well enough to know that her home was no longer Luna.

Kai gets some water into her, teasing, "Thank you, by the way, for getting me out of a tedious meeting. Taking care of my sick fiancée is a great excuse."

Right. Kai hadn't known she was coming. He was probably busy. But a muddled Cinder is a selfish one. "Stay with me, please," she begs incoherently, grasping for his hands, "don't go back to the meeting."

She feels a kiss on her fiery skin. "I'm not leaving you, love."

She drifts off again. When she wakes, she will recall how Adri had been so attentive to Peony when she had the flu. Feeding her soup, ensuring she took all her medicines, tucking her into bed with a kiss. Later that week when Cinder caught the same bug, she was confined to her room with an unempathetic "get over it".

Now, cared for and loved and treasured for the first time in her life, Cinder almost wants to stay sick for longer.

--

This is directly inspired by me having covid right now. Which is also the reason it's probably word vomit. I have a fic coming up eventually which delves more into this theme but here's a short fic for the moment.

After writing this I actually thought, sure, Kai taking care of Cinder while she's sick is sweet, but what about Iko taking care of her? Or Cress? Or Thorne? Now that I want to read.

[thepiratefish]

[] Jrwi riptide spoilers from 108/109 to 112[]

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I know we're all traumatized from the whole heart thing, but how would Ollie and Lizzie react? I haven't seen much talk about how the grand berry pirates and Ollie's family would react (I am pretending Enza is like his wine aunt).

Imagine Ollie running back to Enzas when he realizes the teloporter activated to see a bunch of new people that he knows the captians helped. Imagine him meeting Star or Zamnia and asking about Chip or the other pirates and how they would react. Would they see this small miniture chip and say that they helped them get rid of an evil piratecrew and Ollie proceeds to tell the others about the Riptide Pirates adventures while everything got sorted or would they sadly look down at this little boy and begin to explain the events that occurred with captian widow but before either of them could finish Ollie is out of the house barely holding back tears.

And what about Lizzie? How would she react? Imagine the grandberry Pirates running into Star and Zamnia and the two realizing Lizzie knows Chip. Imagine them sorrowly having to tell Lizzie about what happened to Chip because they know they can't hide it from her and that she deserves to know (I am not saying Ollie doesn't deserve to know). And how would Lizzie react to learning Chip, Her little brother is Half-Dead. Even if they aren't related, Chip is still her little brother, her little brother that went missing for Years before they were reunited. Would she begin to cry? Politely excuses herself? Or would she push it down again because it was only a matter of time until he got himself killed like the rest of the Black Rose Crew? Like Arlin?

I am just saying we have a bunch of potential Angst fics..

[que3rduckling]

A little Stoneflame fic for you guys :DD

The sun shined brightly down on the Albatross where the crew of the riptide pirates went about their days. Igneous was leaning against the railing that looked over the main deck. From his view, he could see Chip and Ollie goofing around on the main deck, appearing to be pulling pranks on their fellow crew mates. 

“Chip! Chip! Did you see Miss Jay’s face!?” Ollie said excitedly, rocking back and forth on his heels as he did so.

“She was so shocked! We totally fucking got her!” Chip replied, seemingly beaming with pride at that, a large grin engrossing his face. Igneous always loved when he was like that, even if it was over some childish prank. 

Speaking of children, the more closely Igneous looked at Chip and Ollie the more he realized their physical similarities. Sure there were obvious differences, eye colour, skin colour and the fact that Ollie was a half-elf whereas Chip is a human. But there were also similarities such as hair colour, their face shape and their physical mannerisms.

Actually, as he continued to watch, he realized they were quite close, Relationship-wise. Igneous didn’t think kids in their 20s and 12 years old were usually that close…  I mean he had been in the Black Sea for over a decade so maybe things changed over that time but he didn’t think so…

Oh fuck was Ollie Chip’s kid!? 

I mean it made sense, the two were practically inseparable. And Chip did have a seemingly parentalish relationship with Ollie, even if he allowed for reckless behaviour and even encouraged it at certain points. There was still that love in his eyes towards Ollie that Igneous had seen in his own pa towards him. 

But wasn’t Chip only in his twenties? Does that mean he had Ollie super young? Or was Ollie adopted? Igneous knew Chip was an orphan himself so it didn’t seem so far-fetched that he would adopted. But even so, twenties was still such a young time to be raising a kid, he is practically still a kid himself! But he couldn’t judge, it was not his life to do so and if the kid and him were happy and safe there was nothing that igneous could or should do on the topic. 

Though saying that, did he almost become a father himself? Chip did ask to marry him, so if he had accepted the proposal that means we would become a father to Ollie himself? Igneous didn’t think he was ready for that kind of responsibility yet. He did love Chip- as a friend! He loved Chip as a friend! At least he was pretty sure he did, but either way, he was not prepared to be a father yet. 

Igneous stood there for a while, his brain running over everything he just possibly discovered over and over again and he continued to watch Chip and Ollie as he did so.

After a while Ollie and Chip eventually split off, Ollie going over to hang out with Gillion and Pretzel and Chip seemingly walking over to where Igneous stood. Igneous watched him carefully as he continued to walk closer, eventually landing right beside him leaning on the railing beside him.

“What’ch you up to there igneous?” Chip turned to face him as he asked, his handsome smirk still present on his face.

“Nothing much Lil bro.” Igneous replied. He paused for a moment, thinking over whether or not to mention it but curiosity got the best of him. Let’s hope it doesn’t kill him like that one cat, “Uh Chip can I ask you something?”

“Yeah sure, what about?” Chip seemed to shift his weight from one foot to another, he appeared to be preparing for a deep talk. Which, fair, over the past couple of weeks there seemed to be no end to them. The Black Sea seemed to do that to people. 

“Don’t worry bruv, it’s nothing serious.” Chip seemed to relax a bit at that, “Just, when you are asking people to marry you, probably should mention you have a kid. Don’t think I would be ready to be a pa if I had accepted.”

“What- Igneous what are you talking about? I don’t have any kids, at least I don’t think I do.” Chip looked genuinely puzzled at this and in exchange so did Igneous. 

“What’cha mean? Ollie? Isn’t he your kid?” Igneous questioned. Chip and Igneous stood there, staring at each other for a moment. Igneous at one point felt himself start to heat up, whether it be from embarrassment, something more romantic or a combination of both he didn’t know. Chip eventually broke the silence by going into a fit of laughter, leaving Igneous even more dumbfounded.

“No-no HAHHAHAHA NO!! Ollie isn’t my kid! He is just the kid we keep on the ship! You-you think I am a father?” Chip started to snicker at that, “I barely have worked through my immense daddy issues, I am not fit at all to be raising a kid.” 

“Oh I am sorry bruv, I just assumed-,”Igneous was a bit taken a back, we thought for sure Ollie was his kid, “You and the kid seemed so close, thought you must be his dad.”

“Nah, Ollie is more like a little brother to me than anything,” Chip said, something glazed over his eyes for a second before he continued, “Well you know the proposal is still on the uh table if you want to. Maybe you and me could be a “pa” or whatever you said one day. We be a power couple! Raising a badass pirate kid.”

Igneous felt himself start to blush, which was harder to see on his stoney skin which he was thankful for. He had embarrassed himself enough with the captain today. Though thinking about it, the idea of becoming a pa with Chip one day was one that… excited him a bit. Maybe that’s how he would want to use his newfound freedom away from the Black Sea. With Chip, raising a kid on the sea.

“Might have to take you up on that offer one day.”

(This is definitely cannon btw ask @millenniumchibo or @blackseastone)

[daughter-of-melpomene]

💌 + running down (to the riptide)?

Thank you so much for the ask, Lavi!! Also gonna tag my Percy Jackson fam @luucypevensie, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, and @manyfandomocs!! <3 <3

Lydia/Percy (my beautiful babies).

Nico/Will (gotta keep the other royal couple of the Riordanverse!).

Annabeth/Calypso (one of my besties just wrote an amazing fic about them and it intruiged me, so I figured why not?).

Charles/Silena (I’ve always thought they were great, gotta keep them together).

Sally/Paul (Mama Jackson deserves this sweet, funny man and all the love he can give her!).

send me 💌 + an oc/fic and i’ll tell you all the endgame ships in the fic!!

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday and Moodboard of WIP + Phrase/Dialogue

Tagged by @icecutioner @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic and @shallow-gravy

Tagging @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @voidika @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard and @alypink + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

(Update: So if you happened to have been pinged again, sorry, I edited/corrected a mistake and suddenly that made the tags inoperable so I had to make them functional again).

One song for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles each and two moodboards for a WIP in The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles.

A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore is a Fallout fic series, and Fallout is mostly set in America, and what better to describe the best parts of America than John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads". While I know there's a Fallout version for this song sung by Spank, I'll save that one when analyzing its role in What Happened To Vault Number 76? As for now, John Denver's version encapsulates Ortega "Ore" Brantley and Marissa "Ress" Bishop's journey, as well as my Fallout protagonist OCs. Narrative-wise, this song describes both Ore and Ress' acknowledgement of their beginning roots (Appalachia and New Reno in New California respectively) and the comfort these homes bring, but also how they'll never lose sight of their true home, and how no matter their father, Arcane Urias, attempts to persuade them otherwise, they'll always trail their roads back home.

"Almost heaven, West Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River Life is old there, older than the trees Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze

Country roads, take me home To the place I belong West Virginia, mountain momma Take me home, country roads."

What better fic from The Silver Chronicles is suited for Vance Joy's one-hit wonder than my Six of Crows fic How Good Is A Heist If It's Improvised? A song that acts like a relatable tune about pop culture but is a cleverly disguised bittersweet tale of love and longing mixing with the emotional turmoil of escapism from reality, and my fic which acts like a comedic modern-ish retelling of the Dreg's heist against one of Ketterdam's richest motherfuckers filled with action, drama and romance but is in fact very depressing in reality only made humorous (dark or light notwithstanding) through the perspective of the fic's only two unreliable narrators, my traumatised criminal OCs Isiah Popov and Gemini Teal. Anyway, enjoy!

"Here's this movie that I think you'll like This guy decides to quit his job and head to New York City This cowboy's running from himself And she's been living on the highest shelf

Ah ooh-ooh-ooh, ah oh And they come unstuck

Lady, running down to the riptide Taken away to the dark side I wanna be your left hand man I love you when you're singing that song And I got a lump in my throat 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong

I just wanna, I just wanna know If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay I just gotta, I just gotta know I can't have it, I can't have it any other way

I swear she's destined for the screen Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen."

The Time Guard is an original work set before, around and within the canon events of The UnTitledverse. It follows Timekeeper, a droid who's purpose was to observe the Time stream and properly utilize the Time Watch only when absolutely necessary. Despite using it during dire circumstances in the events of the Jagged Instincts Novelisation, the Time Court, overseen by the Time Bureau Authority's supreme leader, Judge Khronos, and with the prosecution lead by Leviticus, declared Timekeeper had stepped out of line and also lost the Time Watch to a Time Vortex in the process. So Timekeeper is demoted as expendable and decides to found a team that will do Khronos' dirty (and often life-threatening) jobs to get in his good graces again, calling it the "Time Guard". A multitude of characters in the beginning of its foundation (and even after) come and go, though two have never been more linked than a Carmine scout drone designated "J.O.E" and Edward Carmine's most loyal security drone subordinate, designated "K.I.L.L.J.O.Y", not only coming from Jagged Instincts, but also after The Perfect Storm saga, and they're relationship during The Time Guard can be summed up as "cheerful naive optimist and brooding angry pessimist forced into a get-along brother shirt". So here's the closest song I believe emphasizes.

"Ah such a beautiful day, uh Yeah, the sun's shinin' in a beautiful way, uh Gonna take a shower, brush my teeth, and-" "Life is ultimately meaningless."

"Uh, uh, but I'll get out of the house. Get on the road, top down, hands out. Put on my favorite song and nod to the rhythm." "The planet's being destroyed by your carbon emissions."

"Oh! But I, I, I'll head to class Try my best on every test till I pass And my grades are screamin' in my face (Hey!)" "Ninety-eight percent of what you learn is a waste."

"I get to hang out with all my friends My friends are the friendliest friends Can't think of a better way to spend my time." "Your brain is flawed, and all your friends will die."

"Never mind, I'm alive in the greatest nation, so proud of-" "The exploitation of the natives?" "This graceful bird means freedom for all!" "Tell that to the slaves, and bald eagles aren't bald!"

"I can live in the moment, milk every second." "At any time, you could get clinical depression." "But I'll just be happy, no matter what's in store." "It's quite genetic, and we have no cure." "Uh, at least

We are young ("Not for long") Life is fun ("It only goes downhill") We gotta make the most of it, make the most it ("Or you'll regret it") We are young ("For now") Life is fun ("To some people") We gotta make the most of it, make the most of it!" ("Good luck")

And lastly two moodboards + an excerpt phrase/dialogue for WIPs from The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles.

rules: show a moodboard and an important phrase or dialogue from the current fic you are writing!

WIP: The UnTitled Stories - Prologue

If I may... I'd like to ask you a question. One which has plagued me ever since I was introduced to it. What do you think dictates humans: The mind? Or the body? This was a query originally formed by French philosopher Rene Descartes in the 17th century; one that drove him to develop a concept called dualism. A concept that elaborated the distinction between the mind and body as separate entities, whereas the mind procured thought, mental processes and housed consciousness, the body focused on structure, our instincts, the neurons and the brain itself. Descartes had implied the mind could control the body, but the body could also influence the mind when it needed to, though ultimately had no control. However, despite Descartes' famous words, "I think, therefore I am", modern psychologists didn't believe it to be that simple. Humans worked like a machine, our organs merely cogs serving a function in the system. To take out even one has irreparable consequences, a disruption that could lead us to falter and break down and supposedly become useless, or our certain demise, which earns the same results of uselessness. Now, to deprive humans of one of these components leads to total system failure, regardless if its because of disuse or death. In other words, neither the mind nor the body can continue without this system. On that note, if this system is keeping the human body functioning, the question re-contextualizes from whether the mind controls the body, and vice versa, to instead what this system is trying to keep operating; itself, or our consciousness? The complexion of this debate can be hard to wrap your head around, especially if your introduction to it came from a source as dubious as mine had been, but this did not diminish my personal affinity towards it. To be clearer, I had been led to believe that if the system exists to function, then it must be to either support itself or the battery that drives it, not both. It's believed that by determining the dominating source that dictates humanity, a whole slew of concepts and functions will become clearer to understand, easier to deduce an explanation and an answer. To cease the uncertainty in our lives, which is the only thing that makes everyone equal in this meritocracy. By identifying the force that drives us, we can better understand ourselves, making arguments like free will and determinism, instincts and self-control, nature and nurture, our ability to change and adapt in socialization, perception of our identity and sense of individual self, among other things... well, clear cut. Or at least, that's what I had been told to believe. Not so much now. Though if anyone had asked me about my opinion on the matter back then, riding as a passenger on that bus, and if I felt inclined to share, I would have spouted my blind agreement to the belief. That never happened though. I had been lead to believe that to reach the conclusive answer to the dictating source of our actions; whether it was the mind or the body, I had to be placed in an academically social environment that would push my boundaries for the next three years. Determine the dominating victor of either consciousness or reflex, and take satisfaction in the answer to my curious nature. And though I would later discard this goal... the fact remained, it had been my original intention, one I had gone to such costly lengths for as demonstrated in our first year. And the fact remains that, while on that bus, on our way to this very school, I had every intention to follow that pursuit through til the very end. That is, of course, until I had met you…

WIP: Silva's Hope [Content Warning: Descriptive depiction of a violent death]

An ugly croak escaped from the Peggie's lips, his mouth agape like a lake trout. But instead of suffocating from a lack of air, he was choking from the dagger that pierced through his throat. Silva gripped the handle as she dug the blade further into the man's esophagus, blood seeping out of the opening. The red flowed down, staining his shirt and her gloves. The Peggie swung his arms out weakly, one hand managing to futilely claw at her wrist. She paid no mind to it. Is this all I am good for? She twisted the blade, gritting her teeth as she kicked the Peggie's knee down, swiftly sinking her knife down further. His grip went slack, and his eyes began to glaze. But she wasn't done yet, not with the burning fire eating through her veins. Is this all I'll ever be? Her free hand caught the man's blonde hair. She dug out the red-stained silver blade and slashed it across his throat, widening the cut. A source of fear? A beast with bloodied hands? She stabbed the blade against his head, pulling it out, then puncturing again, repeatedly, like a butcher chopping thawed meat. I gave you a chance, didn't I? A chance to turn back, to put the gun down, to turn a blind eye while I made my escape... Pulling the blade out, she tried to breathe, to calm the rage engulfing her heart, cascading over her mind. But it refused; it demanded it's release, to have her take it out on the man who's eyes have glazed. ...And yet, he did not choose to value his life, instead the words of his Profeta. Fraudulent lies that outweighed common sense, self-preservation, and moral understanding. Her teeth gritted, breathing rapidly, ignoring the bullet that inflamed the skin in her thigh. She raised her knife, red dripping down onto her head and shoulder. Looking down at the Peggie, she shouted out the wrath stuck in her voice, and broke through his skull. If this is the path they all will follow, then she won't waste time giving them chances they won't take.

[raspberrysmoon]

WELCOME TO THE SOTBAW MASTERPOST!!!!

sotbaw is short for the spawn of the black and white. it follows kai drew, in her adventures being adopted and raised by the lords in black.

KAI DREW IS NOT MY CHARACTER. kai belongs solely to @pastriibunz and her custody has not transferred to me outside of this series.

kais age and condition fluctuate. sometimes shes dead, sometimes not. you'll know.

each lord has "papa" tacked onto their name. papa wiggly, papa tinky, papa pokey, papa blinky, and papa nibbly. nibbly is also called mama nibbly on occasion. paul and emma are dad and mom respectively.

IN CURRENT CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER THEY ARE: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,9,10,8,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22. minifics aren't included in this as they are generally less important to the main plot

AO3 UPLOAD

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST LINK

FICS-

number- title | song credit | lyrics you'll find in the fic | short explanation

1- i forgot my name again. | devil town - cavetown | "i still get a little scared of something new, but i feel a little safer when i'm with you." | kai, at 15, discovering that shes not quite as alone as she thought.

2- i truly am my parents child. | family line - conan gray | "i can run, but i can't hide, from my family line." | kai, at 17, fighting for what she wants.

3- deserves the same judgement. | average - sushi soucy | "you've got the skills of an idiot, who got too much praise." | blinky's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

4- i'm losing on their side. | i bet on losing dogs - mitski | "my baby, my baby.. you're my baby, say it to me." | pokey's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

5- make me love myself, so that i might love you. | saint bernard - lincoln | "when i am dead i wont join their ranks, because they are both holy and free." | tinky's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

6- apathy's a tragedy and boredom is a crime | goodbye - bo burnham | "am i going crazy? would i even know? am i right back where i started fourteen years ago?" | nibbly's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

7- you're scaring us and all of us- some of us- love you. | achilles come down - gang of youths | "soldier on achilles, achilles come down, won't you get up off, get up off the roof?" | wiggly's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

8- what if i told you i made it? | inevitable - the guy who didn't like musicals | "what if i told you a story, that settled all the dust? i'm still the man you trust. it's inevitable, for us." | pokey and kai, meeting one last time in the starlight theater.

8- what if i told you i made it? | inevitable - the guy who didn't like musicals | | pokey and kai, meeting one last time in the starlight theater.

9- i won't let go of your hand | two birds - regina spektor | "say that they're always gonna stay together, but ones never going to let go of that wire." | emma and her thoughts as paul and kai leave.

10- you'll never settle any of your scores | little lion man - mumford & sons | "take all the courage you have left, and waste it in fixing all the problems that you made in your own head." | paul, discovering how it feels to lose your body, but not quite how it feels to die.

11- it's so cold and i don't know where. | another love - tom odell | "so i'll use my voice, i'll be so fucking rude, words, they always win, but i know i'll lose." | emma, waking up.

12- i wanna be your left hand man | riptide - vance joy | "i love you, when you're singing that song and i've got a lump in my throat 'cause you're gonna sing the words wrong." | paul and emma waking up. for real.

13- you're skin, oh yeah you're skin and bones | yellow - coldplay | "its true, look how they shine for you. look how they shine. look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and all the things that you do." | christmas.

14- someone just like you | share your address - ben platt | "i want a key to your house, i wanna pick up your clothes, i wanna clean up your mess, i wanna know where you hide your things, wanna be in your pictures, wanna share your address." | kai and max.

15- the land was godless and free | foreigner's god - hozier | "her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me, but still my heart is heavy" | kai's first try.

16- swinging at somebody i can't knock down | take me to war - the crane wives | "all the words i've swallowed, all the sharp things i've kept in my mouth, i am always burning up." | kai's second try.

17- i'm gonna keep doing it | breakfast - dove cameron | "do you wanna see a magic trick? cause you don't know, what you don't know, but i know." | webby.

18- honest with myself | i'm not a cynic - alec benjamin | "not every sunday is a picnic 'cause the sky ain't always blue." | wiggly.

19- blame i can't face | stick season - noah kahan | "now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and i'm split in half , and that'll have to do." | blinky, watching

20- i need something to rely on | somewhere only we know - keane | "is this the place we used to love? is this the place i've been dreaming of?" | little kai drew, exploring.

21- holding the world | epic iii - hadestown | "and i know how it was because, he was like me, a man, in love with a woman." | max.

22- finale.

EXTRA FICS AND FICLETS: COMING SOON

[minty-mythos]

Bull Horns and Webbed Hands (Ch. 1)

Summary: Since Percy became an instructor at camp, he knew first hand how stressful it was to be in charge of the health and safety of over a hundred demigods. Which was why he offered to travel to Olympus in Chiron's place to give the Olympians the monthly camp status report. All he had wanted to do was give Chiron the day off. He hadn't planned for anything exciting happening. He certainly hadn't planned on accidentally adopting the Ophiotaurus while he was there. As usual, nothing ever goes as planned for Percy Jackson.

A/N: My first Percy Jackson fanfiction! AKA I think Bessie is an absolutely adorable, totally underutilized character (His AO3 tag only has 16 fics as of me posting this, which is criminal)

(Read on AO3)

~~~

The monthly status report on Camp Half Blood had been going well. Chiron had coached Percy on how the report usually went, and he was well acquainted with the finer details of how the camp was run nowadays. He’d always been highly involved in the happenings at camp, and since he had become a permanent instructor several years ago, he’d become even more knowledgeable. 

A few members of the Olympian council might have been pressing him harder and asking more questions about camp than they usually would have asked Chiron, but he hadn’t faltered under their scrutiny. He knew it was a test to see if he was really capable, and unlike the other times the gods had tested him, Percy didn’t mind too much.

He’d also managed to keep all of his sharper comments to himself, which was impressive for him. His relationship with most of the gods had gotten a lot more civil over the years, even to the point of friendliness in many cases, but there were still a few he would fight if given half the chance. 

He'd nearly finished his report when he was interrupted by the sound of a strange squeal and the sound of wet feet slapping loudly against bare marble approaching him quickly. The unexpected noise made Percy, who was already on edge after being grilled by the council for the past hour, instinctively tense up and reach for Riptide.

Logically, he knew that he couldn’t be in any true danger. He was standing in the throne room of the gods. No monster could possibly make their way all the way through Olympus without being spotted and killed on sight. 

Even if one had somehow managed to sneak through the city, the gods wouldn’t allow it to kill Percy. Having a hero of Olympus attacked and killed in their own throne room by a lowly monster would be very embarrassing. 

So Percy knew it probably wasn't a monster running at him, but he hadn't gotten this far in life as a demigod by not taking potential threats seriously. 

He spun around with Riptide already in his grasp. Despite his fast reflexes, he didn’t have time to uncap his sword before a figure no taller than his waist barreled into his legs and clung to him with a tiny cry of “Percy!” 

The familiar feeling made him drop his sword and immediately switch from ‘potential threat running toward me’ mode to ‘small child hugging me’ mode. He was more than used to being clung to by young children, thanks to Estelle and the younger kids at camp.

After a second to collect himself and relax his tensed muscles, Percy ran his hands through the kid’s thick hair, gently coaxing them to release him and take a step backward so he could get a good look at them and maybe get a clue as to why on earth they were in the throne room.

The kid was probably five years old, maybe a little younger given how small they were. They wore a white tunic that was cinched around the waist with a golden rope, and no shoes. The tunic was completely soaked with water. In fact, the entire kid was strangely wet. Their skin was a shade or two darker than Percy’s own, and their long black hair tumbled down their back in gorgeous curls. The bangs curling on either side of the kid’s face were pure white, a shock against their dark complexion. 

Percy was confused and slightly disturbed by how similar the kid looked to himself. He’d seen the baby pictures his mother had of him, and this kid could have been his twin, if Percy had grown out his hair and been forced to take the weight of the sky at the ripe age of four. A thought grew in the back of his mind that if he ever had children, they might look similar to this child. Percy did his best to ignore the thought, even though it filled him with warmth. 

The only differences were the fact that this kid was clearly not human, and their eyes. 

Percy also wasn’t human, but you would be hard-pressed to tell from simply looking at him. By contrast, this kid reminded him more of young satyr kids than human children. Two curved cream-colored bull horns poked out of the child’s curls. They were just barely visible, but already sharp and dangerous. 

Their fingers ended in hard nails, too blunt to be claws but too hard to be normal. Their hands were webbed, and Percy could see slits that were clearly gills on the sides of the kid’s neck. He would bet anything that if he were to take off the kid’s tunic, he would find matching slits on the sides of their torso. Their feet were covered in iridescent black scales that trailed up their calves and disappeared before they reached their knees. 

And then there were the eyes. Staring up at him from a sweet face were two beautiful chocolate brown eyes that made Percy want to melt into a puddle. Their pupils were horizontal, which Percy was so used to after years of looking at satyrs that he almost didn’t notice. 

But those eyes were familiar. He’d seen them, not thirty minutes earlier, in fact, when he’d stopped to say hello to Bessie before the gods officially convened for council.

Percy gasped in realization. 

“Bessie?” The whispered word echoed through the utterly silent throne room.

He felt stupid for even suggesting it, but a quick glance at Bessie’s aquarium showed no sign of the creature, there was a trail of water leading from the tanks to where the child was standing, and the eyes that stared up at him from the child’s face were hauntingly familiar. 

The little boy nodded vigorously at him, seemingly incredibly pleased that Percy recognized him. He raised his arms in the universal demand to be picked up, and Percy complied entirely on autopilot, picking the kid up from under his arms and hoisting him up onto his hip.

A long moment of silence stretched on as everyone in the room processed what was happening. “Ah,” Percy said, lacking anything better to say, “I… did not know you could shapeshift.” 

“I didn’t either!” The boy wiggled with excitement. “I’ve never gotten this big before, so I never had the chance to try!”

That thought smothered any happy feelings fluttering in Percy’s chest as he clutched the child tighter. 

Right. Bessie had never had that chance to grow up before, because every time he’d been reborn, the gods had hunted him down and slaughtered him before he could be sacrificed in a bid to overthrow them. 

Percy was suddenly hit with the memory of the first time he’d met Bessie, and how the Ophiotaurus had flinched away from Riptide. He’d been so panicked he’d gotten himself even more tangled in the fishing net he’d been caught in. The thought of any child being so afraid of weapons even when they weren’t being brandished threateningly made Percy burn with anger at the gods. 

Anger at the gods wasn’t a foreign feeling for Percy, but not something he could indulge in right now. He was standing in front of the Olympian council, holding a child who needed his protection. He couldn’t afford to get angry, not when it was more than his own safety at stake. 

The gods had nearly killed Bessie only a few years before. The fact that Bessie could now shapeshift into a human was a strange new development. He was clearly no longer a mindless beast, if he ever was to begin with, and he could act independently. It was something no one had expected and it was entirely possible it would make the gods reconsider their decision to not kill him.

Percy wouldn’t let them do that. He’d fought against the idea years ago, and he would fight even harder now. This wasn’t a random sea creature anymore. This was a child. A clearly sentient child. If the gods dared to debate on whether or not to kill him in front of Percy, he was going to do something drastic.

The thought of the gods made Percy realize that none of them had said a single word since Bessie had appeared. He looked up toward the thrones, not sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t what he found.

The gods, every single one of them, looked frozen in varying degrees of shock. Apollo’s mouth was hanging open in a rather ungraceful manner, his sunglasses falling down his nose to expose eyes wide in surprise. Artemis’ expression mirrored the sun god’s with such precision it forcibly reminded Percy that the two of them were indeed twins, despite their differing personalities. Athena had gone completely still on her throne and the only sign she was alive was her wide-eyed gaze tracking Bessie’s every move.

Poseidon was no exception to the shock, staring openly at Percy and Bessie as if they’d both grown second heads. Although Percy supposed Bessie had technically just grown a human head, so that wasn’t totally out of line. 

Which, hold on-

“Do you like the name Bessie?” Percy asked, just to make sure. He’d given the name to the little mer-cow before he’d known the creature was sentient- or that he would eventually shapeshift to have a human-ish form, holy shit- and it was a girl’s name. Not that it being a girl’s name mattered, not really, but he’d rather ask.

Bessie blinked up at him innocently, eyes impossibly wide. “Why wouldn't I like it? It’s my name!” 

“Fair enough,” Percy muttered, once more very distracted by the strange feelings welling up inside of himself as he stared into Bessie’s wide brown eyes. Protectiveness, possessiveness, love. 

The feelings themselves weren’t all that strange. He’d felt similar things for the children at camp, and his friends and family. Percy had always loved quickly and possessively. Once he decided someone was his- his friends, his family- he would defend that person to the death, do anything for them. He suspected that was something he got from his father, who was known to be possessive and overwhelming in his love.

The emotions hadn’t come from nowhere- he’d always been fond of the Ophiotaurus, but the sight of Bessie in his arms made them swell in intensity. The only time it had come close to the intensity he felt now was when he’d met Estelle for the first time. 

‘Is this what it feels like to be a father?’ Percy wondered hysterically. Oh gods, did this mean he was effectively Bessie’s parent now? (The kid definitely looked enough like him to be his kid. Which was baffling… Why did Bessie look so much like Percy?) 

The Ophiotaurus was supposed to be one of a kind, so Percy doubted there was a mama mer-cow anywhere out there. Certainly, none of the gods would have any sort of parental claim on the child after all they’d done to him. And Percy had been who the Ophiotaurus had sought out initially, back on the quest to rescue Artemis. He’d also responded to Thalia, but it had been Percy he’d followed in the end. He had even listened when Percy had told him to return to the Long Island Sound with Grover. 

And now, the first time he’d gained a human form, he’d run straight to Percy. 

Fuck, was Percy a dad now? He wasn’t prepared to be a dad! He was a college dropout who worked a dangerous job as a sword instructor at a camp for demigods, and he still- for all intent and purposes- lived in one of his dad’s houses since he still slept in Cabin 3. 

Recently, Percy had realized he wasn’t willing to bring children into this world when they would be in constant danger from monsters. Even if he raised his children in New Rome they’d be required to join the Legion, which would put them in danger anyway. If he adopted a mortal child, they would still be endangered from the monsters that came after him, and they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves with the mist veiling the truth from their eyes. He’d always wanted to have kids, but if he’d been forced to conclude he wouldn’t be able to have any in good conscience. He’d consoled himself with being able to look after the younger kids at camp and soiling Estelle rotten, even if it wasn’t the same.

But now, here was a child who was clearly already attached to Percy and had no one else to care for them. A child who would already be targeted by monsters, regardless of what Percy did. A child who needed him. 

Fuck, was he seriously considering adopting the Ophiotaurus? Annabeth was going to be so disappointed that he’d adopted a child with no prior planning…. But if Percy was going to adopt a child, this seemed like the most likely way he’d go about it. He’d never been one for planning ahead.

Percy didn't realize he’d been staring Bessie directly in the eyes until the child broke eye contact and started to kick, pointing down at the ground insistently. “Put me down now!”

“Put me down now, please,” Percy corrected him absently, the response automatic.

Bessie dutifully echoed him, and Percy let him down. The child took off running immediately, and Percy nearly started after him, before stopping. It wasn’t like he could get lost anywhere in the throne room, and Percy was a little curious about where the kid was heading. 

Bessie made a b-line towards the hearth, which made everyone in the room startle, including Percy. Everyone knew what the consequences of Bessie burning were. 

Thankfully, Bessie slowed down well before he got to the edge of the hearth. He approached the edge slowly but clearly filled with curiosity. The child crouched at the edge of the hearth, which was burning low today, but still warm and welcoming.

Percy suddenly realized that Bessie had spent most of his short life on Olympus, trapped in the tank Poseidon and Hephaestus had built for him. It wasn’t a bad environment; Poseidon wouldn’t have stood for a sea creature getting a less than adequate enclosure.

But that was just it. It was an enclosure meant for an animal, not a child. Percy couldn’t comprehend how Bessie must be feeling right now. Overwhelmed, most likely, but still insatiably curious about everything he’d been able to see but never explore over the years. 

Bessie reached out a small clawed hand- gods, he was so small- and pressed his hand to the bricks that made up the side of the hearth.

In a flash that made Percy instinctually cover his eyes to shield himself from the sigh of a god appearing, Hestia was sitting at the hearthside, not far from Bessie. The child made a sound of surprise that sounded suspiciously like a moo, shying away from the newly appeared goddess.

Percy hadn’t expected to see Hestia today. He’d known she’d been in the throne room for the entire meeting, but she hadn’t taken on a physical form. From what Percy had seen over the years, this was typical for the goddess. Hestia seemed content with her decision to give up her seat on the council to Dionysus. She stayed out of the meetings and didn't interfere unless there was a great need for her to intervene. 

But she was here now, looking like a young girl like she typically did. Hestia smiled at Bessie. When that caused Bessie to shy away even more, her smile flattered slightly, and she turned her attention toward Percy, who had been watching the interaction like a hawk. They locked eyes, and Hestia’s smile returned with full force. Percy thought Hestia looked incredibly pleased and a little bit smug as she drew her long veil closer around her.

There was no time to contemplate what the goddess might be thinking, as Bessie seemed to have enough of having the goddess so close to him. He slowly inched away until he had put some distance between them, then turned and ran away.

Straight toward Poseidon. 

The rest of the gods seemed to have gotten over their collective shock, but that didn’t stop Poseidon from twitching as Bessie ran as fast as his little legs could carry him toward the sea god. 

Only Percy’s trust in Poseidon allowed him to let Bessie continue doing whatever he was doing. 

That newly blossomed and fragile trust in his father was something born from several trips to Atlantis which allowed him to spend more time with Poseidon than ever before. Actually being able to sit down and talk about the events of the two wars had cleared a lot of the tension between the two of them. 

Percy had learned exactly how much Poseidon cared for him. The god had even declared Percy a prince of Atlantis, further proving to the demigod that his father was serious about the fact that he wasn’t going to drop Percy as soon as he was no longer useful in fulfilling a great prophecy or two.

It was Percy’s trust in the position he held in his father’s heart that allowed him to hold back from calling for Bessie to return to his side. He wouldn’t come to any harm by Poseidon’s hand, at least.

Bessie continued straight on, ignoring Poseidon and ducking around his legs to get to the throne, giggling with quiet awe-filled joy as he carefully inspected the barnacles and sea stars that encrusted the legs of sea god’s throne. 

Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch it. Percy might have been able to sit on his father’s throne, but he doubted Bessie would be able to handle that sort of raw power coursing through him, and that was if Poseidon didn’t kill him for daring to touch in the first place.

‘I would die for you,’ Percy thought suddenly as he watched the kid crouch to examine a colorful piece of coral. The intensity of his thoughts startled him, but he didn’t find himself wanting to take them back. ‘‘I would kill for you. I’d fight the gods themselves if I had to,’ he thought very intently in Bessie’s direction, as if it would allow the boy to read his mind.

His dad made a strange, strangled coughing noise, and at least half of the council shifted uncomfortably. Percy was once again reminded of his audience, and of the fact that gods could read minds. He winced- he really didn’t need to give the council any more reasons to want him dead.

Thankfully though, none of them looked particularly murderous at the moment. 

Hera was staring in Poseidon’s direction, but didn’t seem too upset. Demeter‘s eyes were closed as if she were trying to block out the world, and she looked incredibly… Long-suffering was probably the best way to describe it. Hades had looked even worse, his head in his hands as if nursing a blossoming headache.

A gleeful look had overtaken Ares’ face, which made Percy incredibly wary. He would have to keep an eye on the war god. If Ares thought he could use Bessie to get to Percy, he was sorely mistaken. Thankfully, Aphrodite had turned to glare her lover down. He looked cowed, at least for now.

The gods’ reactions made Percy feel strangely nervous. He’d never cared very much about their opinions of him before, since several of the gods in this room had been trying to kill him since before he even knew they existed, but this was different. 

“Bessie,” he called quietly. “Come back over here, please.” Bessie obeyed, running back over to him and demanding to be held again. Percy obeyed. The child was a strange mix of hyper and clingy, flipping easily between clearly wanting to run around and see everything, and wanting to be held at all times.

“I wasn’t done looking!” Bessie complained when he was in Percy’s arms, but didn't seem too upset.

Hera finished glaring at Poseidon and cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “I believe,” she said, sounding like she was forcing herself to not scream, “That perhaps Perseus should take the child out of the room so we may discuss this new… development.” 

That sounded like an excellent idea to Percy, especially since Bessie had flinched and cowered into his chest at the sound of the goddess’ voice. But of course no one asked him what he thought.

“I will not allow the boy to take the creature away,” Zeus rumbled in response.

“Bessie is clearly not a creature anymore,” Percy protested, only to be largely ignored. 

“It would be unwise,” Athena agreed. 

“Don’t be obtuse, husband,” Hera snapped at Zeus. “They won’t be allowed to leave the mountain. We must discuss this, and having the child in the room would be unwise.” 

This last part was said derisively in Athena’s direction. Hera didn’t say having Percy in the room would also be unwise, but everyone could hear the implication, even Percy himself. A moment before he’d been all for leaving the room as soon as possible, but this made him hesitant to leave. If they were deciding Bessie’s fate then Percy wanted to be there to speak in the kid’s defense like he had the first time. 

On the other hand, Percy knew what it was like to hear the gods debate whether or not you should die, and the last thing he wanted to do was subject Bessie to that.

His conflict must have been obvious on his face. 

“Go,” his father’s voice echoed in his head. Percy met his father’s eyes and saw understanding there. “Take the child away from here. I will do my best to protect him.” 

Percy wanted to protest that that wasn’t good enough, but before he could, his father’s voice came again. 

“Percy,” His father sounded amused, even in his head. “I was able to prevent his destruction before, was I not? He is yours, so therefore he is mine. I will not allow harm to come to him if it distresses you so. Trust me, my son.”

An ancient, possessive part of Percy wanted to preen at his father acknowledging Bessie as his, but he refrained. He didn’t know what was going to happen in the next few hours, let alone the coming days and months. He shouldn’t be getting attached to the child so fast. The longing that had hit him so swiftly should’ve been alarming, but for some reason Percy couldn’t bring himself to care.

Maybe it was the fact that Bessie looked so much like Percy. Maybe it was the fact that Percy could recognize himself in Bessie, as a child who the gods had tried to kill before, and was still in active danger of being killed now.

Whatever it was, Percy couldn’t shake the feeling of possessiveness that had come over him, and he didn’t want to. Bessie was his.

He gave an awkward bow, hindered by the squirming child in his arms, and then turned to leave the room as quickly as he could. As he had half expected he would be, he was stopped by Athena objecting once more.

“I agree that the Ophiotaurus would not be in any danger from the boy, but there are plenty of others who would be tempted, even on Olympus.” She was leaning forward in her throne, eyes still trained unnervingly onto where Bessie was nestled in Percy’s arms. She looked too much like an owl who had locked onto their prey and was trying to figure out the best way to go in for the kill.

Hera waved a hand dismissively. “Perseus has proven to be more than capable of holding his own in a fight.” 

Even against a god, went unspoken. Ares’ expression soured, and Hades, who had finally lifted his face from his hands, just looked exhausted. Neither of them reacted any more than that, though. 

Athena sat back in her throne, seeming to concede the point. Percy felt himself relax slightly now that he was no longer pinned under her gaze. Zeus also seemed to have bent to his wife’s will, as he said nothing more. “Go,” his father urged him mentally once again, and this time Percy listened immediately, leaving before any of the other gods could come up with another reason to protest.

[crowandthefics]

“You lied to me!”

A teenaged Estelle Jackson blofis fic!

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Estelle took a breath, staring out her window.

She’d been lied to, lied to by her own family. She didn’t have hallucinations, the monsters she saw were real.

The day before she’d had a meltdown about ‘hallucinating’ in front of her brothers friend, Rachel. Rachel told her about everything. Everyone else wanted to keep lying to protect her, but Rachel knows what it’s like to be a mortal who can see through the mist.

Estelle realized she wasn’t breathing, she couldn’t breathe, what was happening? She tried to scream but nothing happened. Then a creature stepped out in front of her. The monster wanted revenge on Percy Jackson, killing his sister would have to do.

Estelle couldn’t move, she wanted to run and find her mother, father, brother, anyone, but she couldn’t.

Before the monster could actually kill Estelle there was a knock on the door, Percy entered.

“Stella!! I’m back fro-“ he cuts himself off upon seeing the monster. He uncapped riptide and sliced the monster to dust. He then looked at his sister. She was petrified in fear with a gash across her face.

“Stella, are you alright?” He leaned down to examine the injury. Estelle finally registered it was her brother and hugged him.

“You lied to me, you were gonna let me think I was hallucinating forever!” She cried, hugging her brother tightly.

“Estelle- what are you talking about?” He asked gently.

“Rachel told me everything!” Estelle looks up. “You don’t have to let me think I was crazy.”

Percy sighs “I didn’t want you to be scared, or for monsters to find you. It’s to late for that now ain’t it? Come on, Stell, let’s clean that gash.”

After that encounter Percy gave Estelle a celestial bronze pocket knife, small enough that he wasn’t worried she’d get hurt, but enough for her to feel safe again.

He also talked to his parents, they agreed to stop lying to Estelle. they wouldn’t tell her anything unless she asked though.

Estelle and Rachel ended up being good friends. Gods know Estelle needed it, she was scared and it helped having someone who was in her position before.

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