#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!)

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, implications of cheating/addiction, degradation, oral, ripping clothing, choking, rough unprotected sex, sneaking around (kinda), creampie, roughdom!matt, possessive!toxic!exbf!matt, exgf!reader, lovers to enemies, angst (?)

🖤 author's note: 🖤 if you fall in love irl with anyone who exudes behaviors that matt does in this fic, run for the fucking hills.

🖤 summary: 🖤 you and matt, who have been in a toxic, on-and-off-again relationship for several years share an incredible hatefuck when he shows up at your door, drunk while you're waiting for your date to pick you up.

shout out to this ask and this ask for requesting/inspiring this fic 🖤

"Where the fuck y'think you're going dressed like that?" Matt huffed, standing in the doorway of your apartment, blocking you from going outside. He was looking up at you through his dark stare, head tilted down, and breath reeking of whiskey.

And if his breath hadn't given it away, you could tell how trashed he was, because his Boston accent always came through thicker whenever he'd drink.

"Matt, did you drive here!?" You asked, peeking through your blinds to search for his car, and there it was, parked like shit, taking up two different spots. "This is exactly why we can't be together, Matt!" You went to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with his hand.

"Who the fuck're you dressed up s'nice for?" Matt slurred his words, motioning towards your simple black dress with a sweetheart neckline that hung off your shoulders and your black stilletos. "Matt, it's none of your business! We're not together anymore! I'm calling you a taxi," you told him, grabbing your phone out of your clutch.

"The fuck you are," he lunged forward, practically breaking into your apartment and snatching your phone from your hands. "Tell me who's taking out m'girlfriend or I break it," he threatened, holding your phone above his head.

"Chip! I'm going out with Chip. I'm not your girlfriend anymore. He's gonna be here any minute. Please leave!" You begged him, holding your hands up in a defensive position. Matt tossed your phone into your room, it landing safely on your bed while he chuckled at you. "Chip? You fuckin' left me for Chip?" Matt drunkenly exclaimed, rolling his eyes and scoffing.

"I didn't leave you for Chip. I left you because of the drinking and your toxic behaviors, and I just so happen to be going out with Chip three months after we've been broken up!" You screeched at him, furious about his accusation. "You're not goin' anywhere tonight," he smirked. "You're stayin' right here with me."

Matt pushed you up against the wall, pulling you into a deep, sloppy kiss, filling your mouth with the taste of Jameson. You pushed him back, standing your ground for a bit longer. "No, Matt. We can't do this. I'm going on a date because I'm moving on, and so should you," you sternly told him.

All it took was a flash of that smile, a moment of intense eye contact, and him muttering under his breath, "No, you're not, and you know it, too," before you were folding, giving into his next kiss.

He grabbed your face while his demanding lips devoured yours, smearing your red lipstick and leaving them bitten and bruised before he pulled away once more to look at you. "No matter who you fuck, you're all mine," Matt rasped through gritted teeth while he tilted your chin up to look at him.

You hated the effect this man had on you. Every time sex with Matt was on the table, all self-respect would fly out the window. You'd forget about your future goals, your incompatibility with him, his lack of emotional regulation, his drinking problem, and his arrogance.

Suddenly, you were all consumed with him, like a riptide pulling you out to sea and trapping you in its undertow while you begged to be drowned in his ocean blue eyes. You didn't stand a chance from the moment you opened your door to your psychotic ex.

You hadn't felt the touch of a man in months, and even if you had, it would never measure up to the way Matt's strong hands wandered the shape of your body, giving his attention to every curve. Even when he was shitfaced, he knew exactly how to touch you to elicit the responses he wanted.

"Can't help the way your body responds t'me, hmm?" Matt cooed, feeling your demeanor become softer and your body language become more receptive to his kiss. A familiar, warm, and wet sensation arose between your thighs while you remembered how sexually satisfied you were when you were with Matt.

"For old time's sake.." Matt murmured against your lips, "Let me have you one last time." His sentence was broken up the sounds of the sloppy kisses the two of you shared.

One last time. You heard that phrase so many damn times before from Matt that you couldn't take it seriously. Despite this, you still surrendered to his empty words.

Matt hiked up your dress and picked you up, grabbing your ass. Instead of fighting him, you hooked your legs around his hips while he carried you into your bedroom. "My girl's not goin' anywhere without me," Matt huskily muttered into your ear while you fell further and further under his spell.

Matt loved the way you couldn't resist him, no matter how much your brain tried. It made him feel so powerful over you.

Matt's eyes flicked up at the tall mirror in your room right across from your bed. "Fuck, I missed fuckin' ya in front of this mirror," he smirked, trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck. You savored the feeling of his tender lips exploring your turn on spots. "Fuck, Matt.." you moaned, submitting to him.

He laid you down on the bed, removed your high heels, and started kissing the insides of your thighs. "Fuck, missed the way y'taste," he drunkenly murmured, his voice muffled by the way he had it pressed up against your panties, and the vibration from his lips sent waves of pleasure through your body.

His eyes met yours once again as he slipped a finger into the fabric of your thong and pushed it to the side. He lowered his lips onto your pussy, licking and kissing your intricate folds, earning a few soft whimpers from you. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he held them apart and pushed them down against the bed. Your hands fell lazily into his hair, and your hips involuntarily bucked up to give him better access.

You'd missed the way he'd enthusiastically eat your pussy, like he could never get enough of your taste. He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit with incredible speed before clamping his lips down around it and humming against all your nerve-endings.

His grip on your thighs, forcing your legs apart, became rougher. You were certain he was going to leave finger shaped bruises on your flesh, like he often did.

But you loved that about him. You loved the sense of urgency, the talent, the passion he brought to the table every time he'd eat you like he was starving.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone on his tongue. You went to clench your legs together around his head, but you couldn't due to the way his strong hands held them wide open, flush with the bed beneath you. Your body trembled, and a slew of moans and obscenities flowed from your lips while you crossed the finish line.

He peered back up at you with a darkness in his eyes as you tried to catch your breath. "What you're gon' do is get on your hands and knees, and you're gonna take whatever punishment I give ya," he growled. You mindlessly nodded, falling deeper into his trance.

Your body obeyed him, propping yourself up on all fours while you watched the two of you in the reflection. "Such a shame Chip'll never see you in this dress," Matt maniacally chuckled, ripping it off of you with his bare hands. You let out a sharp gasp as you watched the torn fabric fall into a pile beneath you.

"My girl. All mine," he whispered into your ear while he pressed his hard package into your backside. You grieved the loss of your dress, but not for long.

Matt removed his own shirt and began fiddling with the button and zipper on his jeans. Then he grabbed ahold of your panties, pulling them to the side once more and roughly shoving his cock into you. You'd longed for the way he filled you so expertly, stretching you out after months without a proper fuck. "Miss me?" Matt asked in a seductive tone.

That was one of the things you missed most about being in a relationship with Matt - the intoxicating and addictive sex. He might have been a manipulative alcoholic and an asshole, but he gave great dick.

In your logical brain, you knew you and Matt would never work, that you'd never truly be happy again with one another. There was too much history there, and too many things were done that couldn't be taken back. But your cunt had a mind of its own. Matt knew the weakness you had for him, and he wasn't above using it against you for his own benefit and, ultimately, yours.

You watched in the mirror as Matt pounded you, the way his relaxed expression stared back at you. His bedroom eyes pierced through you, capturing your attention. His mouth was contorted into an o-shape, and he furrowed his brow while he continued to burrow into your hole.

"Oh, Matt!" You called out, clenching around his girthy cock. "You take me s'well, sweetheart," he gruffly stated, his breath becoming more shallow. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at the door, pulling you out of your sexual reverie.

Your eyes widened, and Matt placed his palm over your mouth. "Shhhh," Matt hushed you while he sped up his thrusts. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the sensation. You heard the knock again, a bit louder this time, and Chip's voice came through the door, "Hey, I'm here!"

You felt bad about standing him up, but there was no way you were going to open the door for Chip to find you with your ex, but you also knew Matt would never let you.

The knocking continued, but you were lost in the feeling of Matt pumping into you and hitting your sweet spot. Matt removed his hand from your mouth and moved it to the back of your head, roughly shoving your face into the bed to muffle the sounds of your pleasure.

You felt your phone that was beside you begin to buzz, and you felt Matt reach over and silence it. "Sorry, princess. Guess you're missin' your date," Matt whispered in a mock sympathetic tone.

After a few minutes and a few more fervent knocks, Chip left your porch, completely unaware of what was going on behind your door.

"Ride me," Matt ordered you, lifting you by your hair and rasping into your ear. He temporarily removed his cock from your hole, flipped you over so you were on your back, and then pulled you on top of him. You straddled him and sunk down onto his rod while you peered behind you to take in your reflection as his dick disappeared into your cunt.

You loved how aesthetically pleasing it was to watch your pussy swallow him up and slide up and down on his length. You loved all the little details, the veins on Matt's cock, the way you'd leave behind a trail of wet fluid each time you'd drag back up over his rod, and the way you could see his face in the reflection as he watched in awe as well.

Your mirror had seen many steamy encounters between you and Matt, and you reminisced about how in love the two of you were with one another when you'd first started having sex. You reminisced about how good things were at the beginning, all Matt's grand gestures, his emotional availability before the drinking, and the way he used to make you feel special.

A sick part of you liked how hung up he was on you, how he couldn't move on. It almost felt like revenge for how he'd betrayed your trust over and over. But you were just as hung up on him, too. Of course, you still loved him, but you also hated him.

You bounced up and down on his cock faster, taking your anger out on him for your failed, on-and-off-again relationship.

The ironic thing was Matt blamed you for the way things ended. He believed that if you'd just stuck it out a little longer, he could have gotten his shit together for you. But how was he supposed to feel motivated to get sober when the woman he thought he was going to marry wouldn't even talk to him?

He reached up, pulled your gaze away from the mirror behind you, and wrapped his hand around your throat, tightening his grip and holding intense eye contact while he started to fuck you from his reclined position, displacing responsibility from himself and taking it out on you like he always did.

"Fuckin' whore," he smirked, delighting in how much you loved being choked. "Think Chip could ever fuck ya like this?" He growled through gritted teeth. When you started to feel light-headed, Matt loosened his hold around your neck, but moved his grip to your waist while he fucked you more violently, his hips bucking up and driving the tip into your cervix.

The two of you struggled for power, trying to see who could hate fuck the other person better. But you felt your knees buckle and your legs begin to shake while Matt's thrusts won you over.

You finished a few seconds before Matt did, calling out his name while he berated you for trying to cheat on him and fuck some other guy.

The two of you were consumed in the dance, both the literal and metaphorical one, burning up with desire for one another, the constant push-and-pull, and the up-and-down cycle that kept the two of you bonded together.

As you came, you recalled the most beautiful moments of your relationship with Matt - the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, the first kiss, the first time the two of you slept together, both being each other's firsts. You recalled the first time Matt told you he loved you, the moment you knew you loved him back, and how you didn't say it until months later.

You moaned Matt's name one last time while you spasmed around his dick, and you could feel him finish inside of you as he filled you to the hilt with his seed. You were immediately overcome with regret, knowing you should have never answered his knock and wondering how different your life would be had the two of you never met at all.

Your mind was swarmed by the bad times - the first time you caught Matt driving drunk while you were in the car with him, wondering how he could even love you at all if he could so easily put your life in danger. You remembered the first time you left him, and the way he guilted you into staying after he raised his voice at you after promising over and over again that he'd change. You remembered all the nights you'd spent crying, not knowing where Matt was while he ignored your calls and entertained other women.

"This can never happen again," you told him while you pulled a sweater on over your head and threw on some pajama pants after it was over and you came back to your senses. It hurt too much, and you knew it would inevitably wreck both of you.

You were holding onto a dead relationship, dragging out the process of putting it out of its misery and making it harder on yourselves in the long run.

But a part of you still didn't want to let go, even having a deep knowing about the psychology behind the toxic cycle the two of you were caught up in.. You hated it. And you loved it. And you loved to hate it and hated that you loved it.

"It can happen again, and it will," Matt confidently declared, his hair disheveled, his chest covered in a layer of sweat, and his glazed over eyes. The two of you stood silently looking at each other. You knew he was right.

After all, your souls were intertwined with one another, and not only were there years of history between the two of you but lifetimes. You and Matt would cross paths again, and you both shared this belief despite the fact that you wouldn't admit it out loud. But in your heart of hearts, you knew. You and Matt were connected on a cosmic level, bound together in a karmic cycle that extended time and space.

And it was far from over.

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @miss-delicious @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @schlutt4matty @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturnioloss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @aalirosesblog @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mynameisuser834 @mattlover-00

[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.

[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.

[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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[psychesalcove]

❝ lady, running down to the riptide

!! want to go back to main navigation? — click ☆ here ☆ !!

₊ ⊹ perseus 'percy' jackson navigation tab

๋࣭⭑

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑ headcanons

^᪲᪲᪲ percy with a child of amphitrite — click here !

✉ written as platonic, sibling dynamic, gn reader, not proofread

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑ oneshots

^᪲᪲᪲ percy x child of apollo — click here !

✉ written as romantic, gn reader, not proofread

synopsis: percy invites you to spend a evening at camp by the lake with him. and, you definitely do not have any feelings for him. nope, not at all. he just has a really cute smile, thats all.

^᪲᪲᪲ percy x fem reader — click here !

✉ written as romantic, fem reader, college au, angst no comfort, not proofread, part 2 being written

synopsis: you and percy have been dating for around a year. however, you feel like he is always choosing annabeth over you, even if he isn't aware of it. tonight, you decided to confront him about it, ending the night not knowing where your relationship stands with him.

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑ blurbs

^᪲᪲᪲ percy x gn reader on the 4th of july — click here !

✉ written as romantic, gn reader, not proofread, multiple characters in fic (separate)

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑ event specials

^᪲᪲᪲ 'wait, don't pull away..not yet,' — click here !

✉ written as romantic, gn reader, blurb, fluff

art above is not mine. credits to original artist: m0ons0

[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 beer 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, clinking 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. Beer 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.

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[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.

[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.

[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..

[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.

IN CURRENT CRONOLOGICAL ORDER THEY ARE: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,9,10,8,11,12,13,14,15,16.

pokey, blinky, tinky, nibbly, wiggly, webby, kai, paul, emma.

ao3 link - coming soon!

spotify playlist link - coming soon!

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.

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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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"

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."

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." | UNREALEASED

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

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." | UNRELEASED

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?" | UNRELEASED

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." | UNRELEASED

22- finale.

EXTRA FICS AND FICLETS: COMING SOON

[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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